ERIS NARKISSA

Once satisfied with her choice of foods, she noticed smaller groups of people forming versus those who had kept to themselves within the corners. Running her hands through her hair she observed a man offering a young woman some chocolate covered strawberries, two individuals who seemed to be fawning over something on a phone, and then she noticed the masks. To no one in particular, she spoke, "Wait, were we supposed to wear masks?" She noticed multiple people wearing masks and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Please don't tell me I'm the only one who didn't bring a mask," she stated, speaking to the room. In an effort to bring the group into a larger closer conversation she continued.

"Well, other than my lack of hidden identity, who else has no idea why we're here," she had her hands on her hips, lips pursed. She then noticed the food again and completely forgetting her disruption, ate a delightful looking piece of coffee cake. Realized she'd been talking and gotten distracted, she turned to the room once again.

"I'm noticing a lack of chocolate covered strawberries. I assume they're a hit?" She stated. In her mind, she felt as though she was rambling. She hated entertaining people. Perhaps attempting to do that with the host lacking their presence would bring others to speak more? Perhaps someone would know why they were here? She'd been invited to random events before and had no idea what they were for, but none like this. She knew no one here. No one looked remotely familiar or even sounded familiar.

"Well then, don't everyone jump at once," she said nervously chuckling. She felt her armpits start to moisten and she fanned herself, her bracelets jingling. She then scanned the room for the closest person and stuck her hand out for a handshake awkwardly. The closest individuals seemed to be a man and two young ladies. At least, she presumed. In no way did she want to assume their gender identities. She smiled brightly her eyes shining brightly, her smile lines showing.

Aaron Cardinal | Male | 24 | Heterosexual | M: Stephon Long, Lily Thorne, Eris Narkissa, Hazel Jones

To his annoyance, Stephon kept on talking and yammering about old man stuff. Half-listening, Aaron just agreed to whatever the old man was saying. His only actual words was when he introduced himself. Then another woman approached and Aaron greeted her with a cheery wave when he saw her.

“Hello!” He smiled at her. “I’m Aaron and it is nice to meet you.” He bowed slightly. “The party has been lovely and I hope you have been enjoying yourself. The only thing missing from this is some wine or a glass of champagne.” He said and took another soft bite out of his cheese. He continued after he finished chewing, “Luckily their finger foods make up for it.” With that he finished his slice of cheese.

Then he heard a woman panic. Apparently she had forgotten to bring a mask, or maybe she was a simpleton and didn’t know what a masquerade was. Whatever she was or her state, he chose not to be bothered with it. Moments later she mentioned the strawberries.

“Shoot! How many are left?” He asked her and pushed through his dinner companions to where the strawberries once were.

The platter was once piled high with them, now he could see the bottom. Carefully, he picked up two and ate them. The sweet flavor of the chocolate on the cool fruit made him want to sing, but if he did then he’d have to stop chewing which could potentially lead to death. He enjoyed the juices on his lips and on his mouth as he munched at another one. Sure, he thought, women were pretty and good company, but I haven’t had a chocolate covered strawberry in years!

Earlier he generously offered up his own plate for Hazel, but that was because he hadn’t figured that they would’ve run out. After all, there were dozens of other desserts on the table. Now that he realized that one of his favorite treats was about to be emptied, he forgot about the girls. The strawberries were better by far.

Stephen could tell that the young man was trying to get him away. He forgot about manners and rules, and, after snatching some strawberries and leaving one or two for the younger kids, he strode to the piano and pulled out the bench.

Gently he caressed the wood of the piano, "getting to know it," as he would say. He jammed the last of the sttawberry in his mouth, wiped the chocolate with his sleeve, and sat down on the bench.

He pressed a few keys, closing his eyes in bliss at the beautiful, woody sound this piano made. His mind flashed back to when he was a child.

He was sitting at a piano, a strange one he had never seen before. The old piano had burned down with the rest of the house, leaving him and his mother to buy a new one. He played a quick scale and frowned. It sounded so different, so... wrong.

He began to cry, and his mother came over to her little Steve, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Every piano is different," she had said softly. "Just like people. This new piano may sound different, but

it's still a piano. People can act different, talk different, look different..." She placed a quick peck on his forehead. "But they're all still humans."
Whenhe returned from the past, tears had gathered in his eyes and he found himself emotionally playing Jim Brickman's Winter Waltz, swaying back and forth gently. This brought even more tears to his eyes. Winter Waltz was the first song he had ever learned. His mother had taught it to him, his mother who had died when he was only twelve.
He hammered the keys more passionately as he grew into a crescendo, all of his dead mother's teachings flowing throughout his mind, his soul, and his music.

Willow looked around at the inside of the manner it was appealing but not to much. She thought This manner is pretty boring if im telling the truth. She sighed and countined through the manner until she saw a dinning room. Willow countined to walk which she ended up lost. She thought Damn it im lost i guess i should try and find my way back. Willow was walking down a stair case and ran into someone. She said "Im sorry!" She put her hand out to help the person.

(Sorry about it being short TvT)

??? | M: Willow

Soft music echoes through the halls, emanating from the party only a few rooms away. Servants, maids, and butlers scurry about the corridors, sticking to the shadows and keeping their eyes down. They have many tasks to finish before the end of the night. Everything must be perfect.

Rooms are cleaned, decorations are placed, and floors are swept. One man hurries down a hall, hanging small wooden signs with elegant lettering onto bedroom doors. Slowly, the hallway fills up with names. Lily, Eris, Lynx. Each word is painted in golden curls, stretched over a wooden canvas. A woman follows behind him, dipping in and out of rooms with a dolly and a mop. They are making good time, the halls should be finished by the time the clock chimes.

Most of the staff are assigned to other wings. The kitchen staff busies themselves making a spread for the morning. Others travel the halls making sure nothing is out of place. One maid, in particular, bustles through an otherwise empty corridor. Walking up the stairs, she bumps into something solid, and a quiet gasp is ripped from her chest as she falls back. Thankfully, she doesn't take a tumble down to the first floor, but her face scrunches up into a wince as she lands on her rear. Above her, an apology is blurted out and a hand is thrust in front of her face.

She accepts the help gratefully and brushes invisible dirt from her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles as she puts herself back together. She looks up to scold the other servant for their carelessness, only to blanch as she takes in the person before her. It is a woman, about her age, dressed far too fancy to be employed at the manor. She glances over the decorative mask on the woman's face and pales even further.

Oh goodness, I just ran into a guest...

Her eyes drop to the floor immediately and she gives the other a shallow bow.

"Please forgive me miss, I must not have been paying attention-"

Panic grips her chest as she desperately tries to recall the time, eyes flickering about before they finally land on the grandfather clock on the far wall. She strains to read its face and is relieved to note that the party should still be in full swing. The tension eases from her shoulders and she gives a silent sigh of relief.

Thank the lord. She isn't late.

It does beg the question, however, why this woman isn't in the ballroom with the other guests. She glances behind the other girl curiously. She appears to be coming from the dining room, which... is strange as food is being served at the party tonight. She takes a minute to think. Why would a party guest be out in the halls if they were escorted to the ballroom from the moment they entered?

Unless the butlers just didn't do their job. She sighs in annoyance before a sunny smile plasters its way onto her face.

"Are you lost? I can escort you back to the ballroom with the others if you'd like. The manor can be quite difficult to navigate if you aren't used to it."

Clayton Shaw | Male | 26 | Hetero | Mentions: Everyone

The evening was already shrouded in enveloping darkness before Clayton was closing in on Marion Manor. It wasn’t unusual for him, as laid back as he was, but he might’ve been stretching it this time. Somewhere deep inside a hint of a notion told him he should be a little remorseful for his tardiness, but he just gave a lopsided grin at the thought. Clayton pretty much did as he pleased, and cared little for what others thought about him. It wasn’t like he went out of his way to stir up shit, it just had a knack of finding him was all. Nothing much Shaw could do about that, and neither did he care to.

As he approached the grand manor, well-lit and decorated for the evening, the hum of his black Chevy Impala quieted down to a low purr, then halted in front of the imposing building. While he wasn’t the biggest socialite, Clayton had been to a few of these parties before, though nothing quite like this. Well, whoever this host of ours is, they sure outdid themselves. The manor overlooking the quiet town of Marion was taken straight out of a Jane Austen novel, but somehow even bigger than one might’ve thought. Inherited money… Clayton raised a brow as he took in the sight. Then again, if it was inherited, how come the owner had been so difficult to disclose?

Shrugging it off, he made his way to the grand wooden doors, grinning at the array of transport vehicles parked outside the manor – and quickly sidestepping the horse droppings in front of the staircase. Apparently motorized vehicles weren’t the only mode of transport utilized tonight. As he glanced up from the near encounter of the foul kind, a butler had arrived at the door, awaiting his arrival. Are these guys peeping out the windows to pounce on new arrivals? The butler looked slightly appalled that a guest had nearly stepped in horse manure outside their manor, but quickly regain composure when the accident was avoided.

“Mr. Shaw, I presume. Please, follow me.”

Either they keep a detailed record of all the guests – or I’m just the last guest to arrive. Either option was just as likely in this case. Clayton had the feeling this party wasn’t quite like others, as something was just a bit off about the whole thing, but a part of him was intrigued. At least someone dared to do something different for a change.

Having followed the butler into the grand hallway, the man stopped and motioned for his coat and hat. The Stetson might’ve seen out of place in such an environment, but Clayton never went anywhere without it. Still, he had the decency to remove it while inside. Besides, it hardly went well with the whole masquerade theme… He had chosen to wear a black tailored suit, fitting snuggly to his narrow hips and broad shoulders, with a silver tie and pocket watch, to match with his mask. It had a black, vaguely shiny base, with intricate, floral swirls in glittering silver, and a few, discreet raven feathers to his right side.

Donning the mask, Clayton nodded his thanks to the butler who guided him to the ballroom. Fancily dressed partygoers were spread around the room, though most were either hugging the lavish buffet, or some anonymous corner of the room. One young woman was talking loudly, possibly to herself. Nothing out of the ordinary, honestly. After a quick scan of the room, Clayton momentarily forgot about the other guests, as he beelined for the drinks table. A place as fancy as this had to have an expensive Scotch lying around…

Rebecca (Maid) | F | N/A | N/A | M: Willow

She blinks in surprise as she is asked for her name. Briefly, she wonders if she should even give out her identity to one of the guests before shrugging. It’s not as if the woman can cause any harm knowing it.

“Oh. I’m Rebecca.” She states, following the woman's gaze as she glances about the hall.

“You’re currently in the Western Wing of the manor, where most of the recreational rooms are held. Which is kind of surprising that you’ve made it all this way considering the ballroom is closer to the Eastern Wing.”

The words barely escape from her mouth before the distinct sound of a motor pulls up to the manor, loud enough to be heard through the wall. The maid pauses and walks down the last few steps to brush aside a window curtain. Sure enough, another guest has arrived. She taps her fingers against her arm nervously as the man is ushered into the building before turning back to the wayward woman with a strained grin.

“Well! It appears everyone is here now. We should be getting back to the ball, the master should be making an announcement soon.”

She takes a step to the side, glancing down the hall before looking back once more.

“If you’ll just follow me, please.”