Boys and girls of every age, wouldn't you like to see something strange~?

[laszlo-jamf.livejournal.com]

When; October 31^st
Rating; G to PG-13 (please post warnings if your thread goes higher than this!)
Characters; Yours!
Summary; What better way to wrap up the stress of the October month than with a Halloween Ball? Come, join the festivities in the Square or in Xanadu! The City has been dressed to the nines with all the trappings of Halloween (from jack-o-lanterns to twisted trees, to eerie lanterns, to burial shrouds, to mounds of burning candles, to any horror your mind can imagine), and it hopes you'll be just so dressed too. Come and feast on pumpkin stew and roasted beasts, come and dance under burning orange stars and lights, come and laugh with witches and goblins of all sorts. But be warned: the witching hour is fast approaching, and all sorts of mischief will abound. If you're dressed as a cat, why not act a bit like a cat? If you're dressed as a king, why not act like a king? The clothes make the man (or woman), after all, or so the Deities will claim...

Log;

Misery Square bespeaks the holiday occasion today: Halloween, All Hallow's Eve. Already, the square is draped in holiday colors: orange, black, purple. Long rags of black hang down the sides of buildings or across alleyways and streets, touched only by strange banners sewn in diamond patterns, in harlequin patterns, of orange and black, and purple. Even the lamp-posts are wrapped in bundles of black sticks, hung with tattered harlequin banners of orange and purple, ribboned with tattered crow's feather's and black rags. And, look, the lanterns themselves are Jack-O-Lanterns, grinning out at the City with their mocking skull smiles. The last of the decorations are going up, the twisted ladders are being taken away from the sides of buildings, and the spidery climbers who had been on them are coming down again.

It is daylight yet, perhaps, and the scene seems more like something from a children's book: the Kingdom of Halloween. The walls are draped with the king's colors, of course, or the queen's. The streets are lined with pumpkins, the candles are waiting in windowsills and on rooftops to be lighted. Dead leaves blow in the distance, the trees are bare, or nearly bare, as the wind strips them further. It is daylight, and the scene is eerie, though perhaps not yet so interesting as it will be.

At night, though, the celebration will truly begin: with long tables laid out for a feast not yet there, but promising to be there, if the gray and grunting figures (almost simian in their appearance, almost monstrous in their movements) laying out black dishes and ragged silver (stolen from a thousand different pirate caches) are any indication. The tables are dressed in black lace, torn from the wedding dresses of jilted, ghostly brides, dyed black with hints of red (their blood perhaps?), and dressing now these tables. And the tables? Made from stolen coffin wood, of course. What else could bear such a rich shine? Their feet are old gravestones, their chairs are made of ebony and bone. The whole is dressed for mourning. Look, even the flowers are black or dead or only bare twigs. Watch how sadly the ribbons flutter in the wind. But there is an elegance to it. And perhaps these tables will bear wonderful things. Perhaps there will be sweets made from grapes stolen from Paradise and the last drop of blood from an enemy's heart, perhaps leaves and mushrooms from a thousand hidden forests where the oldest creatures in the world make their way through time to the end of the world will lie soaked in new wine and new vinegar, perhaps there will be a monumental and towering and toppling cake that fairly bleeds sugar when it is cut, perhaps those defeated demons will be roasted over a spit (look, they're digging out a pit to hold the creature now) and carved up in a victory feast, perhaps candy of every sort and every kind will lie in glittering obsidian bowls to be grabbed by the handful with utter disregard (and those bowls will never empty), perhaps wine will be mixed with blood (and even those who aren't vampires can partake), perhaps the ordinary will become extraordinary, perhaps the extraordinary will become horrific. Perhaps anything: the tables are bare for the moment--but only the moment.

But eating is only eating. What else is there? Perhaps that: a shining floor of ebony laid out in the midst of the square. For dancing, of course, and large enough to hold any number of waltzers or twisters or turners or swirling mass of dancers. Let the music take hold, as ever. It's guarded, of course, against those monsters and spirits and evil forces who (that explains the chalk lines streaking across the surface, doesn't it?). But how soon will those be smudged? There is no keeping things at bay on this night. And there will be no keeping still.

Look, a place even for musicians, hung with those same harlequin banners, draped in bunting of black burial shrouds, and lit by candles in their jewel-like glasses (but who knows what bony, knobby claws and talons will play those instruments, for they seem made of the flesh and bones of the monsters from the week before, now fused and melted into some new shape, gray and ragged, with fingerbones for tuning pins and knucklebones for the mouthpieces--perhaps the music will be sweeter than their appearance).

And over it all, strung up on some nightmare's wire, some massive spider's blackened thread, not a chandelier but its inverse: something hidden, something wrapped in black crepe and gauze and burial fabric. The whole of it hangs, like some malevolent cloud above the festivities, strung high between two buildings, and hanging delicately by those wire threads. The chandelier (if there really is one) is hidden--or nearly hidden, for there may be some hint of twisted metal or barbed wire peeking out from within, and the fabric that drapes it is hardly new and untattered, and those holes to move when the wind blows--under layer upon layer of widow's weeds, all black and darkly glittering, the lack plain and torn, the embroidery ragged. Jet beads hang down in long waterfalls, trailing towards the floor, caught up sometimes in some vain attempt to keep them out of the way by some hand somewhere in their time. A locket here or there contains some twist of black hair, and a name that can't be read. And those same harlequin tapestries mark the points of the compass, hanging down from this widow-turned-chandelier (a woman can be made into stranger things, can't she?).

And, to light it all? A thousand candles or more, black and white and orange as a pumpkin and purple as a sunset before a nightmare, all mounted up in thirteen times thirteen candelabra, each bearing thirteen candles, and all made of the twisted and filigree iron stole and re-wrought from the gates of churchyards and cemeteries and prisons and insane asylums. They are beautiful, in their twisted way, like twisted trees or the candelabras of a church or the great chandeliers that light so many manors and ballrooms and theatres of so many worlds. And all are draped in the colors of the day: black and purple and orange, in long swags of black gauze and those same harlequin banners. But, wait, what about those candles lying idly on those tables? Well, of course one needs a little more light for the occasion (though not too much): these are the candles that will be tossed into the air, and what hidden hands will hold them in the air are unknown. But know that these candles will yet be used, left to float in midair, all surrounding the rosette of crepe that hangs over the dancefloor.

And the Jack-O-Lanterns, too, of course, one cannot forget them, and the way they light the whole of the event: mounded up on tables, peering out from behind tables and chairs, sitting at the feet of the musicians' chairs, perched on window ledges, peering from rooftops, perched in trees--wherever there is a place for a grinning Jack-O-Lantern, there is one--save for when one looks for one.

But this is not the only place where the celebration will take place.

Xanadu, too, has been dressed for the occasion. Of course it must be, if it is, indeed, the famous pleasure garden. Though what pleasure can be found here must be strange, or so one must think upon passing through the twisted gates and under the twisted arch--though that arch is largely hidden by that same black crepe, those same black rags that seem to decorate the whole of the City this day and this night. Candles stand guard at either side of the entrance, melting quietly onto the real guardians: two massive statues (do they or do they not move as the night progresses?) of beasts perhaps only seen in some worlds (and those few are enough) that seems like creatures seen before or seen only in nightmares, with such fangs and such claws and such horns as that. And, grinning over it all, a Jack-O-Lantern, with his cohorts beside him, and their veritable army of burning candles.

The paths here are lined with those candles, like ghosts lights, and pumpkin and paper lanterns are hanging from the black, bare, gnarled tree branches. This is the antechamber of Xanadu, if one should like to think of it so. This is only the beginning. Look, this scarecrow (if one can call him that--he'd probably scare anything that came near him) is pointing the way: this way or that way? The paths diverge...

There are different paths here: those paths with little light or none, and those that glitter like Algol--the Demon Star. Choose whichever you would like.

If you choose the paths with little light or none, lit by those tiny ghost lights, burning blue and faint along the path, then be wary of the darkness. Be wary of those long rags that hang like mist or ghosts in the trees, blowing across the faces of those who pass. There are spiders in these trees, and the grinning faces of Jack-O-Lanterns--but never giving enough light to truly see. Watch for the shadows--there!--that rush by before one can see them, these creatures of fog and imagination. There are people in the trees all around, or creatures, or worse. Crows call as they do after they have found fresh carrion. Owls call, bats flutter across the sky. There are old houses, their broken windows menacing anyone who passes by like the empty eyesockets of a skull, there in the woods all around. The moon's light does little good here, and perhaps only casts a malevolent glow, twisting the shadows of the trees. But press on, find the way through the labyrinth of this path, and the horrors of one's own mind. The reward is yet to come.

If you chose the glittering path, then follow the lights that burn in the trees like stars themselves: purple and green and orange and white, wrapping around branches light fairy lights. The candles give way to glitter and starlight. There is no great light here, though--no, of course not. The whole is still in darkness, though in the darkness of starlight. The saddest spirits might haunt these paths, or the most beautiful, the ones who will lure the unwary into unsafe ways or into rivers. The harlequin banners are here, too, hanging from the trees, along with their black bunting. If there is a king's progress, then perhaps this is the way he would go, leading his court down a street of wicked trees lit with wicked stars. And he knows the reward that lies at the end of this road.

Regardless of the path one takes, one will find oneself, at the end of the maze, one will come upon the real celebration and come before a great twisting, spiraling tower of Jack-O-Lanterns.

Where Misery Square had its wretched chandelier, like a widow inverted and hung with candles, Xanadu has a blazing tower of Jack-O-Lanterns. All grinning, all orange, all burning with candles, the spiraling tower sits in the midst of another ebony floor (stained with chalk, yes, of course). It is like some stolen column from a monstrous temple, like some strange altar to a monster deity, like some horrific growth from a nightmarish pumpkin patch swelling up towards the sky. Be careful in getting too close. There are rumors flying tonight that some of the Jack-O-Lanterns have been seen laughing.

There are tables just beyond for conversation and a little rest, as one might expect (and still made from the stolen wood of old coffins, as one also might expect), and stone benches (stolen from cemeteries). Like Misery Square, the whole is hung with black rags and lace, tattered crows' feathers, and that same royal harlequin tapestry. Another ballroom, then. Though perhaps more secret, given the darkness just beyond the tables. Less grandiose, perhaps, given the simplicity of table and floor. Or better, if one so prefers to sit with one's companion over the soft light of a Jack-O-Lantern, and have sweet wine mixed with blood brought to one's table by a tall, dour, skeletal man who seems to say too little and know too much. Or so those burning eyes would suggest.

But, look: another stand for the musicians, with those same melted, stitched, ragged, wretched instruments. Who would touch these to play them? Who could play them well? The musicians will, of course, as they read their music by the light of the Jack-O-Lanterns staked on candelabra all around them. That is the light for this place: Jack-O-Lanterns and moonlight. Perhaps the better question, though, is to ask who would dance to it. And here is the answer, tumbling across the floor, skittering on stilts, twisting itself into knots and tangles: dancers themselves, or something like them, or perhaps something more like clowns, or jesters (if we imagine that Halloween King still). A flock of them, a troupe of them, each with his or her own skill. This one balancing high on stilts, that one bending herself into tangled knots, another breathing and eating and throwing fire, still another twisting herself like a serpent as she dances, still more tumbling in--clowns or jesters or the kin of Harlequin himself, yes, but masked as the day would require and dressed in its livery of black and purple and orange. They are amusing, yes, but perhaps they draw up the feeling one has when dreaming a dream that is mere moments, mere seconds away from turning into a nightmare. Watch, but don't stare too long: they seem human, if talented, but to stare too long will make certain inconsistencies appear, certain details grow clear, and certain unsettling problems very, very noticeable. Don't ask where they come from. Don't ask why they use a Hand of Glory to light their way. Speak to them, if you like, but don't expect answers.

Perhaps if Misery Square is meant to be supper with dancing, then this is the proper ballroom? Or does it work the other way? Or perhaps this is the entertainment after the ball? Or should one perhaps visit both? Yes, visit both.

Come, join the festivities. Wear your best costume, bring your best mask. The City has adorned herself for you. Show her the same courtesy, and let us all celebrate together.

[ooc: Welcome to the Halloween Party~!! Enjoy the festivities--and the things described here are just a starting point. Feel free to invent other things going on this evening~

To keep things basically organized, please feel free to note where your character is ("Misery Square, dancefloor"--for example) and whether the log thread is open to all or only certain characters in the subject line of your comment. Feel free to log things out in action tags or full prose tags, as you'd please. Just be careful as the effects of the curse start to bubble up~ Have fun and happy Halloween, Polychromatic~!!]

Comments

The Square - Open

[eagleofautozam.livejournal.com]

[ The City’s newest cursed Idol has just finished his first concert (http://eagleofautozam.livejournal.com/8284.html) and now finds himself mingling among the crowd.

OOC: That link contains videos. Just a warning if you are on a slow Comp!]



The decorations were very elaborate, who ever planned this party had gone to every length possible to make this venue as creepy looking as possible. The band also had been done up exceptionally well! What a good make up job had been done on them! If you looked at the band for too long… they almost didn’t seem human at all. Really amazing!
Eagle paused for a minute to sign a few autographs before continuing on to the middle of the Square. You might see him there. Maybe you want an autograph… or maybe just someone to speak to?
This is Eagle’s first Halloween!

Xanadu--OPEN

[dude-imbatman.livejournal.com]

If it weren't for the fact that Dean has been planning this for a while, he wouldn't have come but he had the costume already and this was a night to be his childhood hero (no not John Winchester--the other one). So Dean is here with his Batman (http://www.smh.com.au/ffximage/2005/10/18/batman_begins_big_051018100848275_wideweb__300x371,1.jpg) costume on. He's even got some of the gadgets. His holster holds the tools of his trade as well, just in case. He's got a gun with silver bullets, rock salt and holy water.

He also looks a little awkward but more than that he looks like a little kid so excited about Halloween and candy and his costume. They didn't really get to do Halloween proper much when they were kids. Unlike his brother, Dean loves Halloween. Girls dress slutty.

[Action]

[alexis-castle.livejournal.com]

Alexis sees Dean and skips on over to him in THIS (http://pics.livejournal.com/alexis_castle/pic/00003q58) costume. Instead of a scottie, Toto is a collie. Sorry, that's the dog her dad got her. "Dean! You need a spotlight with the bat symbol to shine at the sky!"

[Action]

[manofgnee.livejournal.com]

Well, this is embarrassing. Hanna's also wearing a Batman costume, albeit a rather poorly made one that tends to resemble the Adam West Batman costume a bit too much. He, too, looks excited, since this is his favorite holiday.

Of course, after seeing Dean in his much more impressive costume, Hanna just sheepishly waves at him. They haven't talked since before that last curse, and that...well, was also a curse.

Xanadu OPEN

[whattingawhat.livejournal.com]

Buffy is doing a whole Angel of Death thing. She's got on a strapless black dress, long black feather wings that trail the ground behind her. She's got on knee high, heeled boots and a black and white wig. Her eyes are heavily done in black and silver glitter. She's got the scythe of course. Never leave home without a weapon. Besides this one works so nicely for her costume.

[Action]

[a-bad-guy.livejournal.com]

Of course, as promised, Eliot is wearing a suit and tie. He's even wearing his reading glasses. That of course prompted his geek-a-licious roommate to comment on how much he looks like Lindsey. That name, Eliot's sick of it. Which means when he arrives at Xanadu to be with Buffy, he's grumpy!Eliot... but in a snazzy suit and tie with his hair pulled back and glasses on. He fairly well growls at a passer by who's staring at him. "Take a picture man, it'll last longer."

He pauses as the passer by asks him what he is. "What do you mean what am I? I'm a fuckin' guy in a suit!" Which he realizes is ridiculous as soon as he says it, so he ammends the statement. "I'm a lawyer! Now get the fuck away from me."

And then he sees Buffy, who's hot. And that tension melts just a bit. "Hey."

OPEN Xanadu

[classywigger.livejournal.com]

Rummy's dressed in a blue pimp outfit, which he just rented. He's never going to wear this again, so why bother actually buying it? He skipped on the fake gold teeth, but he does have the standard cane, even if the big diamond on the top is just plastic.

He still remembers spending his childhood Halloweens involving vandilizing houses with eggs and toilet paper. All his more recent Halloweens involved him and Ed either having wild parties or just going around causing trouble. Good times.

[Action]

[alexis-castle.livejournal.com]

In complete innocent Alexis fashion, she walks over to the man and studies his costume. It's pretty obvious that she's trying to figure out what he is. Her first thought is Willy Wonka but he doesn't have a top hat. "Hugh Hefner!" She finally says triumphantly.

[Action] Xanadu - OPEN

[alexis-castle.livejournal.com]

Well Alexis never misses out on holiday happenings. She shows up to Xanadu wearing her Dorothy Gale (http://pics.livejournal.com/alexis_castle/pic/00003q58) costume, ruby slippers, basket, and even Toto. Only Toto is Nikki the Collie that her dad got her. Her basket is filled with candy to give away and of course, she's excited and just enjoying the holiday.

Re: [Action] Xanadu - OPEN

[cuffmeonce.livejournal.com]

Castle is right behind Alexis wearing a scarecrow (http://www.halloweenplayground.com/images/rubies/scarecrow-costume.jpg) costume. After the month they've had, they need the normality of a costume party.

"Not a bad shin dig. Not bad at all."

OPEN and EVERYWHERE (not all at once, but...)

[thisismyjob.livejournal.com]

Lulu Bell doesn't understand Halloween. She never has, and there's every chance that she never will. That doesn't mean, however, that she doesn't want to get out and appreciate the City's current resemblance to her home. The Noah isn't fully healed from her various battles, but this doesn't stop her from exploring every inch of the macabre City.

Once night falls, Lulu Bell can be found virtually everywhere--hovering about the edges of the dance floor like a shadow, examining the dripping candle-guardians of Xanadu, slipping near-invisible down the garden's darker paths, falling into contemplation in the light of the fairy lamps, watching the nearly inhuman acrobats by the tower of menacing pumpkins. She's not keen on conversation, but she will speak if spoken to.

If, that is, you can spot her in the shadows.

Either Location | Open!

[primrosella.livejournal.com]

The past week hasn't been an easy one for Rosella, between the night of living out her nightmares and the week of war between angels and devils. And really, she's not in much mood to be anything but herself tonight--which is why she's chosen a costume that's simple but elegant, and hardly dangerous to transform into on accident.

She's out tonight in one of her best gowns (http://i669.photobucket.com/albums/vv60/Fortunes_Wings/Polychromatic/fantasy_red_wedding_dress.jpg) with shoes (http://i669.photobucket.com/albums/vv60/Fortunes_Wings/Polychromatic/7jzD.jpg) to match, her hair left down in curls and an elegant crown perched on her head. Close observers might notice she's carrying a pea with her; closer observers still might see she's got the beginnings of a bruise on one cheek, and she's avoiding coming into accidental contact with the passerby as much as possible.

But those small troubles aren't going to stop her from dancing tonight, both in the hustle and bustle of Misery Square and the tucked-away ballroom in Xanadu. It's been a hard month, to be sure, but the others are right; Halloween marks the end of October, and if that's not something to celebrate, she certainly doesn't know what is.

Xanadu Dancefloor

[thisismyjob.livejournal.com]

Lulu Bell, lounging at a coffin-wood table, sees a familiar blond head out of the corner of one eye. It's that angel; there's no denying that. She's torn between staying where she is--the former angel had been the one to attack her--and making her presence known. Her master has always encouraged her to be polite.

She rises and approaches Rosella, gold eyes bright in the wane candlelight. "You were an angel."

Xanadu Bar Open

[idmakeitaweek.livejournal.com]

Tony shows up wearing a suit (http://www.italsuit.com/images/P/PT-93-BLACK-TUQ.jpg) that's a bit louder than his usual. Of course he's got the fedora as well. He's also carrying a cane and wearing two pinky rings encrusted with diamonds. He's wearing a necklace with a diamond encrusted dollar sign as well. He's got a cigar between his lips and he's holding a glass of scotch, surveying the dance floor.

Why yes, as a matter of fact, Tony is a pimp.

Re: Xanadu Bar Open

[classywigger.livejournal.com]

What a coincidence, so is Rummy. His own suit doesn't have the black and is a darker shade of blue, but close enough. And right now he's just relieved to see a bar. He'd kill someone for a drink. Maybe literally, considering him.

Gin sits near his fellow pimp and orders himself a mojito, casting an aside glance at Tony. "Nice suit."

Re: Xanadu Bar Open

[shewashuman.livejournal.com]

Rose decides to venture out a bit early in something classy (http://i56.tinypic.com/rqvudl.jpg). A nice fitting black dress with knee high black boots. And maybe she did go a bit over board on the make up, she tells herself as she sits on a bar stood looking at her reflection in her compact mirror. Her hair normally straight is now down in curls. An odd look for her but hey it's Halloween. What could possibly go wrong?

That is of course when she notices Tony in a sort of familiar attire, aside from being a bit bright, and walks over.

"That's rather...a look," she decides on.

[dedicatedbitch]

Brooke, who's dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, catches sight of Tony and can't help but smile at his costume. She walks over to stand beside him, looking out of the crowd as well, her arms crossed loosely over her chest.

"Interesting choice of costume there, Boss."

Xanadu; open

[pharles-at-life.livejournal.com]

[ Presea is not really sure why she came. Normally she wouldn't be so uncertain and twitchy as she is tonight, but her costume is already having effect on her - she's become somewhat mousy and jumpy.

She'd put together the costume on impulse, the week before the whole demon/angel mess, and so she decided to go out, to actually try to enjoy herself instead of mull over all the people she'd hurt.

And so she has an uncertain smile to greet people with, and a twitchy nose. ]

Xanadu Open

[yesimagenius.livejournal.com]

Halloween is Reid's favorite holiday which naturally means that he's going to show up at the party dressed up. He's chosen a classic Wolf Man (http://badwolfcostumes.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/adult-wolfman-costume1-300x300.jpg) costume. He's carrying a bag full of candy as well to hand out to people. He's is geekily excited. Like little kid excited. Be careful. He'll chew your ear off about Halloween and it's roots and changes throughout the years.

[deadly_legacy]

"That's a nice costume." She smiles, even though she has no idea who she is talking to in that costume. Her cat costume is a little more revealing.

Xanadu | Open

[deadly_legacy]

Euphie, dressed as a cat, and Yuri, dressed as a knight, have been enjoying the festivities. Feel free to come bother either or both of them.

Xanadu | Open

[notflynn.livejournal.com]

He feels a little uncomfortable, but not as much as he would have if this were a more formal occasion. Thankfully, Euphie's company makes the situation a bit more familiar, less foreign. He sees people dancing, the bright punctuations of candles here and there.

He turns to her, smiling, offering her his arm. "Shall we?"

Either Location | Open~

[protects-her.livejournal.com]

There's a saying about parties, and how they don't start until a certain person walks in. And more often than not, at least as far as the festivities back home are concerned, that certain person is Finnick Odair.

It's not even that he likes gatherings like this, really; he's been to so many of them in the past ten years that he's actually lost count of how many times he's followed this routine, mingling and chatting, seeing and being seen. He could do it in his sleep.

Sometimes, he does.

But regardless of his personal preference on these sorts of things, the fact of the matter is that Finnick Odair, the living legend of Panem, would never miss a party like this. And so he is out on the town tonight, dressed to the nines in the costume (http://i669.photobucket.com/albums/vv60/Fortunes_Wings/Polychromatic/LordoftheSea.png) Cinna made for him and working his very best socialite act. It's what he does, after all.

we got magic, good and bad

[7thborn.livejournal.com]

[By the time October's final curse of the month had settled in, Ginny was still on her way to the party. She had made it, of course, in her own way. And by that way, of course it means the City's way, and that lies in bringing her silver wings to full life. Perhaps, Ginny thinks as she hovers in the chilly night air, being a Golden Snitch (http://i669.photobucket.com/albums/vv60/Fortunes_Wings/Polychromatic/GinnySnitch2.png) was not the best idea.

Since sunset, she has spent the evening flitting from place to place, unable to hold a conversation for much longer than a minute at most. Her own brand of magic is useless against the deities' tonight and it's with exasperation that she ends yet another brief interaction with a curious stranger and flies off again, as darting as the Quidditch ball her costume was inspired by.

The redhead has probably zipped past Finnick several times in the course of the night, probably waved at him from above the dance floor with something of an apologetic expression before disappearing again. At least her hair is holding up in all this flying about. What a depressing thing to be cheered by. Hair.]

Merlin's beard, I'm starting to sound like Lavender Brown.

[Murmured under her breath with a groan the moment she stops flying again, still hovering a few scant inches above the ground by a table laden with drinks. Ginny eyes them warily, wanting one, but uncertain if she'll be able to down it before another flight into the sky will send it spilling over Cinna's masterpiece.]

[imperialwill.livejournal.com]

She'd wanted to ask Asch. She wanted a nice, romantic evening with him, with the both of them dressed so elegantly. She wanted to be taken back to their childhood when they had the same lavish balls, back when Luke- Asch still stepped on her toes during lessons. It was all still so nostalgic, and as she steps into the wonderfully decorated square, she sighs at the memory of something long lost.

She's come alone instead, hoping to find Rita or someone else she knew.

Really, maybe she's waiting to run into Asch somewhere.

laaate comment is late but Natalia deserves some love

[blastiafreak]

Rita likes to think she has a good sense of direction, or at least a better one than some of the other members of Brave Vesperia. Yet here she is, hopelessly lost and stubbornly refusing to ask directions after leaving some gels with Luc to give to Tyr. Of course, if that jerk hadn't startled her, maybe she wouldn't have been so quick to accidentally take half a dozen wrong turns in the name of avoiding any shadows or those downright creepy decorations.

Now she's somehow made it to a party when she doesn't feel one bit like celebrating, glowering at anything that comes too close. With everyone in these stupid costumes and those grinning pumpkins everywhere, it's hard not to feel jumpy.

...Not that she's scared or anything.