Open Adelaide Sitai's Surrealist Soirée

[Adelaide Sitai]

[Adelaide Sitai]

69th Summer 514AV
Early Evening - around the Eighth Bell

For the last two days, Adelaide's time had been consumed by preparations for the Party - sending a summary of her spending (which she had thankfully kept just below the point at which she might have been under fire from the family) to her Uncle, making sure the trees she had sent for to decorate the Ballroom actually fit in it, choosing the slaves who would be involved and finalising the arrangements for the hallucinogenic and narcotics that would be served by the afore-mentioned slaves. Now, as she finalised her costume, a silk dress reminiscent of the Sea, her long, dark hair piled up on her head and powdered blue on which she had placed a little model of a boat, she was moved to realise that everything had come together right on time. The dress had cost her but the boat hat was on loan from a local milliner's in exchange for an invitation to the event. With one last look in the mirror, pleased with the effect the ensemble offered her - almost ethereal - she left her room and started making her way down the stairs and into the ballroom.

It had been a rather idiosyncratic decision to choose the Ballroom for this sort of event when there was a basement especially built to accommodate the sort of soirée that was about to take place. It was, after all, not specifically for dancing, but Adelaide had endeavoured to give the Soirée the surreal feeling that she had promised her guests would manifest itself and, to do this best, the ballroom served her vision.

Inside the ballroom had been placed three large trees in large pot plants, their branches cut off apart from for the vast bushes which almost touched each other on the ceiling, expanding into a sort of canapé through the branches of which, the glistening gold of the Sitai Ballroom could be seen. Forty of the most attractive and skilled slaves, twenty-five of them women, were being used to serve the event, naked save for loincloths, their bodies painted many different shimmering shades and decorated with swirls or more complex patterns and all carrying silver platters emblazoned with the Sitai Rose on which glasses rested, filled with rum, whisky, wine, and even beer (so as to suit those with simpler tastes) The floor had been covered with many different rugs of all different colours and sizes, some newer and some older, a few bargained for at the market and most of the others, gathered from the Sitai Mansion. It would have been fair to say that, outside of the ballroom, anyone visiting the House that night would have been hard pressed to find a rug anywhere else. Over these rugs was a quantity of small tables and a combination of pink or orange divans. Five larger tables were circles with the centre piece cut out, in which a slave stood, painted gold with a chandelier in each hand. Around them, were a quantity of odd objects to add to the surreal atmosphere: broken dolls, empty bottles with candles deftly stuck into them so that they would glow through the glass, swan feathers, top hats, little fans, pencils, flowers which had been rashly (and purposefully) splattered with paint... all this amongst the golden plates on which pipes and cigars rested, not all of them with tobacco. Any guests having trouble identifying these substances need only ask the slaves, who have all been versed as to what they are.

The lights were low and Adelaide had secured the participation of the Playhouse Theatre Theatrical Troupe so that they might be dotted around the room in pairs or trios, providing entertainment: jokes, dancing, tumbling, singing and the playing of music.

With a sigh, hoping everything would come off as planned, Adelaide moved towards the corner of the Ballroom where her Uncle and Father were, the former dressed with the antlers of a stag and the attire of a blacksmith while the other had opted to paint his arms, neck and the left half of his face to resemble a tree and was donning a pearly-white waistcoat and breeches, a Tricorn on his head covered in leaves.

"Well, this should prove to be informative Adelaide."

Adelaide nodded respectfully to her Uncle and affirmed that he was correct, sensing intrinsically that the whole event would prove to be some sort of test to see if she was capable of representing the Sitai family. Then, with a smile to her Father, she disappeared to check on the security arrangements at the front of the house.

"We are ready Milady." said one of the guards.

"Yes," said Adelaide finally, "The Party can begin."

Half a Bell later

The evening started off better than she hoped. Guests started milling in, arriving in droves, making all the right noises as they saw the transformed ballroom. Some started immediately on the alcohol while others took more time to admire each other's outfits, headdresses and make-up
One woman made a noise of horror at the sight of the broken doll serving as decoration, but her friends immediately quietened her and told her that she did not have to understand the spirit of the theme but merely note and perhaps appreciate it.

"Welcome!" Adelaide was standing alone by the door of the ballroom, greeting the guests that arrived with a large smile.

One Dynast arrived flanked by two little slave girls which, she said, were invaluable to her costume. Another was completely covered by a red sheet save for a circle cut out for his face, which he'd painted with one striped line down the middle. Adelaide was happy to note that most people had completely understood and even embraced the set theme. Meanwhile, slaves had started serving and the entertainment began in earnest.

The party promised to be a wild and extravagant affair, going on into the night.

[Estrellir Konrath]

Estrellir disliked dressing up. However, in order to attend parties and social gatherings one had to be dressed for the occasion. Once she’d been denied entry because of her dress. Since then she got ready together with her sisters who graciously lent her cosmetics and personal slaves.

This time, the party theme was quite ambiguous in itself. Estrellir had chosen to go with something that complimented her white hair, pale skin and scales. A lady could never go wrong with bringing out her strengths, after all, and dressing like winter in the middle of summer catered to the surreal part. Thus she arrived in a short white dress, skirt and sleeves adorned by translucent white veils that both concealed and revealed. Tiny patterns in white and silver decorated the hem. The dress and matching sandals only supported the piece of art on her skin though. Delicate blue swirls and patterns had been drawn over her shoulders, neck and face, climbing up her cheeks like vines. Her scales still glittered between the paint. Headdress consisted of black and dark blue branches woven into her hair as well as red roses spilling from a pin binding a few locks over the right ear. Her eyes were accented with blue and violet shadow that brought out their natural color.

In the carriage, Estrellir resisted the urge to flinch. Her sisters were giggling about who would follow the invitations, who they’d recognize and how they’d look, but she kept her distance from the chatter. All the powder on her skin felt as if a sack of flour had been hurled into her face. At least the dress was comfortable, she thought as she watched her sister Atia climb out of the carriage in her elaborate gown.

After entering the ballroom, her sisters immediately fanned out greeting acquaintances. Atia, the diligent firstborn, wandered off in search of the host. Estrellir grabbed a glass of wine from a slave in interesting body paint and started exploring the room. Adelaide had been very thorough in her depiction of the party theme. During her round, the Konti stopped here and there to admire acrobatic feats, inspect parts of the decoration or exchange a few words with those she actually knew (which were few). She poked the broken doll and nicked a fan trimmed in white lace from a low table.

Mostly she kept to herself and sipped her wine though. The evening had just begun and the party was hardly in full swing yet. For now she’d take note of who came, who didn’t and who chatted with whom. Even out of her office, Estrellir just had to keep an eye open... like an addict craving their favorite substance in the middle of the wasteland. But who knew, the soirée might turn out a garden in full bloom!

Costume :

Receipt:
Fine costume (light) – 30 gm
Headdress, fascinator – 5 sm
White leather sandals – 4 sm
Total – 30.9 gm

Boxcode by Verena

[Verena Lorak]

As she entered the premises, Verena decided that this party must have been one of the most preposterous parties she had ever attended. When she had first heard of theme, she didn’t have a clear idea of what it meant or how it looked like. It was no easy task to portray surreality since the concept was so. . . surreal. Despite that, she would have to admit that it did look oddly beautiful. The randomness of everything was enchanting in its own way. She let herself marvel at the well-decorated ballroom. The trees place inside seemed to demand for attention, while the rugs underneath her feet made a complex patchwork. The costumes some Dynasties wore were even absurd. All the weird shapes and varying colors threatened to give her a headache. One of the Sitai woman greeted them upon entry and Verena’s eyes quickly rested on the massive headpiece of hers. The young woman seemed quite familiar, but Verena couldn’t really place where she had seen her before.

Compared to most, Verena’s outfit was considerably sober. It was a plain white dress that barely reached her knees, decorated by a pair of wings protruding from the back. She had chosen it specifically amongst the costumes her family had prepared – they knew Verena was not about to go into the trouble of dressing up, maybe even avoid the party entirely. The dress had been the least sumptuous as to the rest of the options. Her hair was relatively untouched – except for the fact that it was turned into a snowy white. Even the paintings on her body was kept reasonably simple. An elaborate white mask was painted around her eyes and matching patterns coiled up around her arm, but that was it.

“Well, this party should be quite interesting,” Zorane remarked as he offered her his arm. He was dressed in a white suit that matched her, a more masculine set of wings sewed firmly onto his clothes. With his light blonde hair, he looked like a pale prince, regal and cold. Half of his face was painted to resemble a white mask, resembling Verena’s. His gaze followed a young woman with an amazingly revealing costume with an ostentatious wreath of flower surrounding her whole face. She caught his gaze and winked. “Not something you usually see.”

“It’s madness,” the Lorak remarked as she spotted the out of place dolls scattered on the low tables.

Her brother simply shrugged as he picked up what looked like a roll of tobacco. “Madness isn’t always a bad thing.” He breathed in the cigar, narrowing his eyes. Zorane called out to a slave whose skin seemed to be encrusted with jewels and asked about the cigar. Verena paid little attention to their conversation, but she understood that it was some kind of drug.

Something else had caught her attention. Or more like someone.

[Adrienna Lynint]

I am a granidile. I am strong. I am indomitable. My will consumes.

As she entered the Sitai plantation, Adrienna tipped back her shoulders and held her head high, not at all the same woman she had been that morning while her head was being shaved, or even the same one as when she was having a house slave bind her in the elaborate corset of her dress. No, she was fire. She was the heart of the swamp, and by Siku was she the venom on the tip of a snake's fang.

For Adrienna did not want to be there.

Her attire was non-conventional, even for her. From the head, she wore a wig of pure white*, the colour matching the shade her skin had been powdered to, only allowing the contrast between it and her headpiece: it was almost a mask that affixed itself into her wig, a string of sculpted monarch butterflies that crowned her brow and danced their way down her right cheek, wings spread as if ready to fly*. However, they were fake, and she sacrificed part of her sight simply to allow butterflies to rest upon her face.

Her dress was high-collared but sleeveless, also patterned as the monarch butterflies so it looked like perhaps she was one*. Or several, even, for around her neck were many small ones to match her mask before the corset, which looked a lot like the overlapping wings of butterflies. The skirt of the dress was some form of tulle (Adrienna really didn't know, she was no seamstress) and simply further exaggerated the butterfly effect she'd been going for. It showed a remarkable amount of skin, all of which had been laboriously powdered white as her face had been. Her arms, her legs, her hands, her feet in their black shoes... everything.

Honestly, if there was anything Adrienna liked about her dress, it was that it embodied a creature that inhabited the swamp. If there was anything she detested, it was everything else.

Upon her entrance, in which she attempted to make quiet, she chose to currently avoid the substances provided for her consumption. She wanted to appreciate the appearance of such surreal garb, which might never be seen again, and enjoy the sense of luxury while avoiding the conversation sure to follow by being present near a glass of wine. However, she did note the presence of drugs and was, for the moment, eased. If anything, Adrienna reveled in the sense of elation that followed the consumption of a drug more than she enjoyed the sensation that followed drinking the amount of wine it would take to be tipsy. For this reason did she make her way to a table, selecting a pipe and a rolled ball of some sort of drug. She didn't ask questions; rather than bother talking, the Lynint lit the pipe. There.

Her mood had just improved.

She turned her back to the table before realising who she was standing with: a Lorak girl. Not willing to break the woman's reverie, Adrienna contented herself with making it look like they were socialising while smoking the drug within her pipe, soon falling into that beautiful bliss where things were much easier to deal with.

[Edmund Morealis]

69th of Summer, 514AV The Bloodflower Estate I do not honestly know what it was I was expecting. Though he had arrived prompt and on time, one of the first to as a matter of fact, Edmund could not help but watch the procession of increasingly strange costumes that paraded into the Bloodflower manor. Some were low-key and tame, similar to Edmund's own, but many more were flippantly outrageous. Many people clearly were doing their best to draw as much attention as possible, but the end result was that, since a majority had chosen to dress loudly, it was the subtler and more nuanced costumes that became the noticeable and unique attractions. Apparently it was everyone's understanding that surreal is synonymous with ridiculous. When Edmund had finally - at length - collected himself, he joined the spectacle dribbling into the great white manor house, moving easily. His shape was no different than normal, which is to say he had no extra fabric sewn on or otherwise attached to what would have been his usual attire. Such extremities were unnecessary to achieve - what of thought of as - surrealism. Instead, the Morealis was wearing a suit of midnight blue so dark it was almost black, with embroidered stars of gold and silver thread sewn up and down the length of the silk, with the occasional red or green woven in. It was more than just that though, since the glow of each star was also embroidered into the expensive clothes, soft and flowing lines that bled into the adjacent stars, creating a wonderful aesthetic that lacked a pattern of any kind. The night did not stop with Edmund's suit, however. For the first time in his life, Edmund had chosen to adorn his face with paint, which continued the aesthetic seamlessly from his suit and scarf up his neck and across his face. His hair was left quite alone, and he wore nothing atop of his head, but his face was matching his clothes, except that it lacked as many stars. Instead, the dim glow that would have been found around one of those colored orbs were instead painted around his eyes, and the green stars themselves on his eyelids, visible whenever they were closed. It was quite uncomfortable. "It is just like you to think of surrealism for a congregation," Edmund said softly to Adelaide as he offered a token bow in response to her token welcome. Her costume was outrageous as the most bizarre he had seen yet that night, but there would be more time to talk later during the party. For now, she had other guests to greet. Unlike many others of the dynastic caste, Edmund little pleasure in the regular hedonism that characterized such parties, setting aside perhaps drinking. Smoking was out of the question, regardless of whether it was a mere cigar or especially one of the Sitai's... creative narcotics. Gossip was a waste of time to participate in, but on occasion valuable to listen to. As for some activities that often included the more attractive of the Sitai slaves and a bed (or sometimes not), Edmund had no interest whatsoever. So it was he had found himself at yet another party with nothing to do except keep his ears open as he wandered the transformed hall. Perhaps the liquor would pleasantly surprise him and distract him until someone caught his attention.

[Adair Askara]

Adair Askara wasn’t sure whether Adelaide Sitai was a thief or in fact a kindred spirit. That party was a lot like something he would have come up with, crazy, over the top and completely surreal. How did the saying go? Great minds think alike? Or had she stolen the idea from him when he had been too drunk to notice? He didn’t really care. It looked like it was going to be a lot of fun, and that was all that mattered. Maybe he’d try to get to know Miss Sitai a little better if the opportunity arose. It seemed as if they would enjoy each other’s company.

He had spent a lot of time on his costume. Women’s clothes were so much more versatile than men’s clothes so he was of course wearing a dress – or rather half of one. He wore a wide floor length skirt that consisted of two layers. The first layer was simply ivory silk. The second layer was made of tulle and had delicate golden leaves and birds on it. He also wore an ivory corset that gave him the illusion of a narrow, feminine waist. It too was covered with golden ornaments. His chest was bare. The golden and silver necklaces he wore barely covered it. No matter how beautiful his outfit was, it was very obvious that he was not a woman which was exactly the effect he wanted to achieve. His hair was piled high. His head dress consisted of branches, golden and silver ornaments and a certain amount of tulle. Two long, graceful horns, not unlike the horns of an Ethaefael protruded from his head.

He wore very little in the ways of makeup compared to some of the other guests, just a bit of golden glitter on his eyelashes, golden lipstick and a bit of blush on his cheeks.

His arm was draped around the waist of his favourite Vantha slave as if they were lovers (which they had in fact been at one point). The Vantha was wearing a male version of Adair’s outfit, a white and golden suit, fake horns and glitter on his face and in his hair. Another slave that he had borrowed from one of his many cousins was with him as well, a little boy that wore a neat white suit and had blonde hair and large blue eyes.

Adair did of course not sneak into the ballroom. He didn’t enter it quietly, but waited until people were looking his way. He entered it with his head held high and a radiant smile on his face as if they had all been waiting for him and immediately started searching the room for people that looked like they might be worth his time despite the fake family he had brought with him. They were only part of his costume, just like the horns.

[Adelaide Sitai]

OOCFeel free to post in whichever order you like since I want to get this moving and if you wanted to post but hadn't yet, you still can as long as you keep up with how things have moved.

A myriad of guests from all different dynasties, none of them denied an invite, paraded into the Bloodflower Mansion. Some who had endeavoured not to come, for reasons of protest or fractions between the Dynasties, had even given in to their curiosity and were reluctantly enjoying themselves, marvelling at the decoration and the costumes. Each and every one of them received a warm greeting from Adelaide. Whether she knew them well or not, she made sure that most knew how happy she was to see them again or how lovely it was to meet them... and, in most cases, she genuinely meant it. As soon as the guests' arrival started faltering, Adelaide left her post by the door and moved into the room. If any stragglers arrived later, she would make sure to find her way to them and apologise for not being at the door, but Adelaide knew that, if she was to make her short speech, she would have to do so before the party got too much in swing and rendered everyone incapable of properly listening, no matter how short she had decided to make her broad welcome.

Suddenly the slaves all stopped and turned on their heel, looking silently towards the centre where Adelaide was standing under a tree, arms outstretched dramatically but elegantly in greeting, her gaze sweeping around the room. The guests started quietening down and following the slaves' cue, also looking around.

"Ladies and gentleman," she paused before adding with a smile, "And those currently undecided, naturally. Welcome to my Soirée! I hope the refreshments, the alcohol and the... entertainment are to your tastes. I stand here, arms outstretched in a gesture of friendship to all fellow Dynasts, requesting solidarity between yourselves and us, the Sitai Dynasty. For now, though, let's leave the politics to less merry occasions. For now, I humbly ask only that you enjoy and partake in our celebration. For now, let there be music!"

She clapped her hands twice and a slow, rhythmic dance-like tune started to be played simultaneously by all the musicians dotted around the room. Guests started murmuring, then talking, again and a few started swaying around.



The music gave a sleepy stillness to the air, and loaded it with a very potent mixture of nostalgia, even sadness, and something very carnal and beautiful. The atmosphere seemed heavily erotic, though perhaps evocative could be the better word, for it was not necessarily sexual or even romantic. Rather, it just gave a sentiment of mystery and the feeling that anything could happen. And indeed, that was exactly the feeling Adelaide had been targeting - that this was a place full of possibilities. The lights were dim in some corners, casting dark shadows, while warm and bright in others, lighting up faces and costumes in a flattering glow.

Adelaide started making her way around the seated areas, decided that she might soon be allowed to relax and enjoy her own party. A small, since she did have to stay lucid, whisky was quickly ordered from a passing slave and she started walking with a small smile around the borders of the ballroom, watching with a smile as everyone got into the spirit of the evening. The music was faintly hypnotic and things seemed to be getting more surreal with every passing chime, while Adelaide waited for something or someone to capture her attention or demand her interest.

"On such a night as this..." the young woman murmured with a wry smile as she turned for a moment to look out of the window up at the sky, "Of course the stars are shining."

[Estrellir Konrath]

With nothing else to distract her except intriguing furnishings and exotic costumes, Estrellir was emptying her glass rather quickly. The liquid cast a rosy heat on her cheeks that even the white powder couldn't hide completely. When she arrived near the entrance where she'd started, she took the opportunity to refill her glass. Briefly considering a smoke, she discarded the idea at the sight of people congregating near the served pipes and cigars. There would be more time and less of a crowd later.

As she began a second round, a reflection of light caught her attention. Surprisingly, it led to a familiar, albeit unusually glittering face and stiff posture. The Dynast in question had adorned his dark suit with stars that caught the tiny light of candles and lamps nearby. The effect wasn't as breathtaking as some of the more surreal costumes, but still quite an eye catcher. Picking up a second glass, Estrellir made her way over to the starry man.

"Edmund, it's a pleasure to see you here! Will you be the cold starry sky to my wintery landscape, at least for a while?" With a casual smile, she offered the second glass. The red wine tasted exquisite and seemed to contain a curious mixture of spices. Despite the amiable greeting, the Konti couldn't quite remember when they'd exchanged more than a few polite words and glances. Humans grew up fast too... and most didn't seem to remember their younger days well.

If he allowed, she'd extend an arm and rested her right hand in his left elbow. Avalis' lily at the back of the other hand radiated an opalescent gleam whenever she lifted her glass. In a moment of silence she spotted the Askara walking in with a dramatic flair and a costume just as revealing as one would expect from him. Well, he was still quite young... "I wonder when that one will decide on a gender... and which it'll be. He wouldn't run around like that forever, don't you think so?"

They stopped to watch when Adelaide started her announcement. Estrellir barely managed to drown her scoff in liquid. Every Dynast with a modest sense of self-preservation knew politics couldn't just be shut out in Kenash. Curious eyes never closed and the ears of eavesdroppers were never shut. Still, the Konrath couldn't help but appreciate words spoken with such sincerity. Then the last echo of her voice faded into rising music... and suddenly the sense revealed itself to Estrellir. Her hand began to itch as more meaning was added to the presence of the man at her side.

"And this would be the perfect time for the first smoke of the night," she exclaimed with a firm nod. People flocking to the dance floor, those who actually knew how to tread it, meant other attractions were abandoned.

Boxcode by Verena

[Edmund Morealis]

The liquor was good, Edmund had to admit. The Sitai, with their infamous reputation, would undoubtedly be serving high quality... pasttimes at an event such as this, but even then Adelaide must have worked hard to get all of the pieces in place. In that regard, Edmund could not help but be impressed with what he saw, even if he did not find it comfortable on a personal level. There would undoubtedly be things about this party that Edmund would do well to remember. Sipping at his glass, Edmund walked steadily around the room, looking left and right at the various people present. Usually, at diversions such as this, Edmund would find it ripe time to listen in on the various goings-on of the Dynasties. Any news he picked up through gossip could be confirmed for himself, and every piece of information was a tool to some end. At this event, however, some particular people were exceedingly difficult to recognize, meaning that Edmund had to pay attention to names mentioned especially. Complications were undesirable, and once again the Morealis wished that Adelaide had chosen a somewhat milder theme for her little reception. Working around such complications was Edmund's task though, and the rumor mill was eager to provide. After a few laps of the room, Edmund placed his glass down on one of the tables and sighed. The discomfort of his chosen attire was really beginning to irritate him, though the alcohol in his body was helping that to some degree. Before he had the time to become too discontented, however, he found himself being offered a new glass. "It would be my pleasure," was Edmund's smiling answer to Estrellir's request, taking the glass and clinking in a little toast of reunion. It had been a while since the two had had time to talk in such a private setting, mostly it was just in passing or whenever family politics dictate they be in the same room. In fact, if Edmund's memory served him correctly (and it usually did), they had not really had any private conversation since their farewell more than ten years ago. Looking at Estrellir up and down, doing his best to look past her fanciful costume, she looked not at all different from that time he saw her as a boy. The human memory in particular was a fickle thing, though, especially memories from that age, so it was entirely within the realm of possibility that Edmund's mind was using the reputation of the Konti to fill the gaps in his mind. Whatever the case, the longevity of the Konti appeared - to him - an undisputed fact. Welcoming her arm into his own, the Morealis found himself following her gaze, all thoughts of reaping the rumor mill further currently dispelled from his mind. The Askara in question - there was no other dynasty who could pull such a thing off - was indeed half dressed in each gender's clothing. "You can never tell with the Askara," Edmund replied, sipping from his glass. "Perhaps he does not wish to choose. Or perhaps he merely wishes to be talked about, such as what we are doing. Absurdity is sometimes grounded in reality." Edmund punctuated his thoughts with a shrug just before Adelaide gathered everyone's attention on her. Of course, she would have no issues addressing such a crowd of eclectic costumes, but even so Edmund was impressed with the delivery of her words. Even though they could be viewed with a naive tint, it was so characteristically Addy that Edmund found himself hard-pressed to imagine her saying anything else. Not to mention that she, as a Caretaker, would have to be aware of the omniscience of Kenashian politics. Perhaps she was naive, but Edmund preferred to think of his childhood friend as hopeful instead. It was a much better light with which to see her words. At the moment, though, he caught himself beguiled by a different childhood 'friend' of sorts. It was not Edmund's habit to smoke anything he did not have intimate knowledge of, but the presence of someone he knew on a personal level tended to erode his inhibitions. Adding to this was his trust in Adelaide not to drug her guests with anything toxic or of that sort, as well as the prospect of closer relations with the Konrath as a whole. For now, though, he would satisfy himself with closer relations with Estrellir, whose company he was all too happy to keep. "It would certainly appear to be," Edmund echoed, noticing also that the rest of the soiree emptied as the dance floor filled. Taking the initiative, Edmund led the way to one of the tables that still retained most of its contents. "I tend to be a fumble-footed dancer anyway."