"Lord Archangel, perhaps some refreshments inside?" the Viking says to Julian. Depending on Julian's response, Brita will make her way inside and get a glass of water and speak to Julian about banalities (sp?) until the waltz is over.
Julian is agreeable, moreso than one might expect under the circumstances, to accompanying Brita for refreshments. She may note that he addresses her as "Lord" in conversation and, while courteous, does not break her disguise in his treatment of her.
She will make her way over to Jerod/Paige as they leave the dance floor.
Jerod's not going to be hiding from anyone...:)...Brita's Viking can introduce herself/himself/itself at their convenience.
Agreed. Paige has a target in her sights, but could easily be diverted...
The Viking, after talking with Julian for a short while, takes his leave of the Archangel and gets a small glass of scotch.
As the waltz draws to a close and Jerod and Paige make their way towards that general area [lost whether that was Bleys or Florimel] the Viking approaches the pair. "Lady Dragon, Lord... Jerod," he says with a bow, "I am unsure what to term your attire, sir. An interesting Conflict of Light and Dark. Perhaps we can discuss the concept over a drink?" and she offers the scotch to Jerod.
By the time the Viking has moved close enough, Jerod knows who it is. You don't forget someone you spar with. And no one gets to sword range without Jerod knowing who it is. (unless Jerod doesn't see them coming, which is another matter...:).
The offering of the scotch clinches the impression and Jerod studies the outfit before smiling. "Indeed." he says. "I could say the same for your attire...Lord Viking." and he accepts the glass, sniffing to determine its background. "Your attire ensures freedom from custom for the night. I approve."
The Viking smiles as he sips from his glass of water, allowing Jerod to continue.
[Jerod]
"It is a symbol I learned from my arms instructor during philosophy
training. A blending of the Light and Dark, as opposed to a
conflict. They are the elements within each of us. Do we allow one
to become dominant? Do we seek the middle ground between the pair?
Or do we seek to transcend the pairing, and become more than their
sum?"
"Ah, yes. The light and dark in all of us. Order and Chaos. Of course," the Viking turns slightly to survey the room,"there is perhaps one here tonight with much less Order than expected." The capitals are obvious to well-watered characters. "One should always be on the Alert for an unexpected imbalance towards Chaos."
"Anyone in particular? Have the usual suspects have been eliminated?" Jerod asks, making a slow motion to scan the room, comfortable that an intruder would not suspect his intentions. He is doing exactly what is expected of a member of Court during a Court function - checking out the crowd, just as dozens of others are. And he has his Court face on.
The Emerald Dragon's smile is the same as it was when the Viking arrived, perhaps even a bit broader. It maybe that the Viking has shared some witty remark or comlimented the beadwork that went into Blythe's lovely creation.
Aquiring a glass of wine from a passing server, Paige also scans the room for one person in particular, a merlin hawk that might need to take flight. "Perhaps those closest to Chaos might sense the shift best, knowing its source.
"I'll see if I can find him," Paige suggests with a small covering chuckle.
"Let others know if you can." Jerod says, a polite smile on his face as he bows slightly to her in preparation for her departure.
The Viking bows slightly at Paige as if accepting a return compliment and says to Jerod, "the Hawk and Moth are well known and not close to the fire. I have had little contact with the Moth's companion and have not actually found him in the crowd yet to know if he is causing any chaos. The Emerald Sorceress and Sir Fox are spreading the tale with potentially a little Devilish help." A slight pause and then to Paige, "The Sorceress was thinking that a display of her power might attract too much unwanted attention; even a more subtle move to contain her prey was apparently ill advised."
Paige nods and touches the Viking gently on the arm, "I'll remember that." Setting the wine glass down, she shuffles something from within the dragon's tail into her hand, a packet wrapped in emerald silk, about the size of cigarette case. Using the other cousins as cover, she shuffles out her Fourtunes, smiling at their cold feel as she locates one of a young dark haired man, sitting at a table. Concentrating on it, her bowed head might be embaressment of just shyness at the Viking's words.
Jerod chuckles a little, enjoying the act of acting on the greatest stage of them all...all the while still watching.
Robin moves purposely around the crowd toward the garden doors, time for a walk, a brisk walk. She catches a glimpse of quickly moving russet, framed for a briefly in the open glass doors. As her green eyes watch, it's a moment before Fox and Moon join her relatives on the still mostly empty dance floor. The Huntress can't -- and doesn't want to -- stop the warm smile that crosses her lips.
Then the Grey moves. The girl cocks her head with a curious croon as she tracks him across the floor to his desti... his prey! A snort of laughter is followed by the clap of her hand over the girl's mouth. Robin turns her back briefly to the floor as her shoulders shake and her eyes dance in merriment.
Verde! He's good, he's soooo good at this. A flush of warmth flows through the girl. Followed by a thoughtfulness. This... this is his world. Robin turns back to the floor, her brow furrowed contemplatively.
A flash of white in the doorway attracts her attention, her father re-entering with some guy in a Viking costume... something about the way the Viking walks. Robin cocks her head in curiosity. But from the angle of her father's shoulders... the ranger drifts over but keeps well out of earshot and non-intrusively from lines of sight until the end of the waltz.
As her father and the Viking end their conversation though, and the Viking departs, the girl scoots over to Prince Julian before she looses him again in the crush of people.
"Sir? When will we be leaving for Arden?" Robin bites her lip unconsciously as she waits for the answer.
"Tomorrow or the next day, depending on how business in Amber goes," Julian replies. "I know you are anxious to be home, so we shall not tarry a moment longer than necessary."
"Oh, thank you, sir." Robin breathes out a sigh of real relief. In the lines of her shoulders, in the shifting of her feet, in the fluttering of her hands, the girl is definitely getting over-stimulated by the crowds and the noise and the smell and the colors and, and, and.
"Jovian, Kourin and Vere asked me to go flying with them tomorrow half a watch before noon. And I haven't been able to get with Solange in all this..." Robin waves a hand at the swirling sea of people. "And Reid said something that might be real bad. And... Dad? Can we go somewhere more private?" _More quiet_ "Please?" Robin rubs her furrowed brow between her eyes.
Robin knows that she has Julian's attention, but he also has an eye on the conversation between Paige, Jerod, and whoever that Viking that Robin's been seeing with hanging around family members this evening is. He is frowning slightly.
"We will find Solange together, if you like. I believe I saw her waltzing with your cousin Marius a moment ago." Julian watches Jerod and the Viking screen Paige as she does--something. "But just now, let us see what has flushed our flock of red-headed quail."
The contact comes into focus. Merlin is in one of the many nooks scattered about the side rooms of the Great Hall. He's also terrified, as much of the contact as of whatever he's dealing with. There's a sharp tang of relief as he recognizes the touch of his mentor on his mind.
"Bring me through. Now," Merlin says, and extends his hand. It doesn't sound like a request.
"A bit flashy," Paige whispers to her friend.
"Can you wait until I get someplace quiet?" she asks, moving for the closest secluded place she can see, the card palmed now.
"Once the Dragon has finished her meditations, let us go for a walk around, Lord Viking." Jerod says. "See if we can't find something that doesn't belong."
"Certainly. A hunt would be fun. Perhaps you can suggest the best course to lead to success?" the Viking glances out across the room and, noting Lord Julian's gaze, raises his glass and nods in acknowledgement. "The Archangel might provide some experience on a true hunt through the darkness."
Merlin appears almost on top of Paige, in what little space there is between her and Jerod and the Viking. He's wild-eyed, and the Viking can smell the sharp scent of fear on him.
"Back to back." Jerod says quietly to the Viking, watching his half of their perimeter, and those who are doubtlessly now watching in their direction, trusting in the Viking to cover the other half while Paige takes care of Merlin.
[W]hen the music for the first waltz is leading toward a conclusion, Brennan again leans down, and keeps a perfectly gentlemanly smile on his face:
"Cambina," he says, signalling that it's important and not just part of the dance, "Can you please keep that beautiful smile at your lips?" Assuming she nods and does so, he continues, "Brita tells Fiona and I that there is... an unlicensed Chaosi present. Fiona believes her, so I believe her, but we don't know who or why. We don't want to start a panic, but a few more people need to know."
He notes the change of partners between Vialle and Fiona.
"Random and Vialle must know by now. Your brother will be informed ASAP. I'm going to tell Lilly, and then try to find Fiona again. Can you tell Martin and anyone else you deem appropriate?"
"Of course," Cambina says, without changing her expression, as if it were an everyday thing for a Chaosite to secretly invade the coronation masquerade of the King of Amber.
And somehow, Brennan's really not surprised. At all.
As Brennan and Cambina are leaving the dance floor, they find that Martin, with Folly in casual tow, is heading in their general direction.
Brennan does indeed slow down enough to let them catch up. It's a change of plans, but perhaps a necessary one. He will gesture discretely and move the conversation to one of the nooks-- one with a good view of the scene, if possible.
If he can catch Lilly's eye and attract her, so much the better.
Folly smiles a greeting at Brennan and Cambina as she and Martin fall into step beside them. Her attention seems at least partially elsewhere, though, as if she's keeping track of something out of the corner of her eye -- a process made more challenging, and thus less subtle, by her mask.
Brennan is probably as distracted as Folly is-- but he manages a polite nod and a smile back.
When the four are all together, he gives a quick glance aroud the room, recalculates, and replans on the fly. This time, the plan isn't even going to survive contact with the allies.
He gives Cambina a shrug that might be an apology for rampant improvisation.
Martin shakes his head subtly to Brennan's gesture towards one of the exits from the Hall.
The mask hides much of Brennan's expression, but the tilt of his head implies, "Have it your way-- next time you'll listen to me."
Cambina glances at Folly, as if divining her intention by something in her bemasked face, and shoots Martin an exasperated look.
Under his mask, Martin's jaw tightens slightly, but he keeps his tone light, if mildly sarcastic. Folly isn't fooled for a moment by his tone, and neither is Cambina, Folly feels certain. What he says is, "Don't worry, sweetheart, you're safe. I won't ask you for another dance. I'm here to talk to a man about a shadow." He turns his attention to Brennan and is about to continue when Cambina cuts him off.
"You know I haven't danced with you all evening, Martin."
"Oh, that's probably my fault," Folly responds, almost reflexively. "I mean, I need someone to protect me from courtiers who can't count to four, y'know?"
And Brennan takes the moment of distraction to say, in a low but insistent voice: "I would be pleased to talk to you about shadows at your convenience, but this moment is not it, Your Highness." If the use of title at the Masque isn't enough to convey a certain sense of urgency and business, then Martin don't deserve to be Prince.
The swan-bill sweeps the trio and Martin's lips press together in a thin line for about a half second. He says, firmly: "At this moment My Highness is suddenly interested in finding out who I danced Lord Chantris' Galliard with in the middle of the first set, if it wasn't Cambina."
Brennan has no trouble hearing the capital letters in Martin's invocation of his own title.
Folly looks at Martin, her eyes wide. She doesn't say anything, but the sudden prickle of gooseflesh visible on her exposed upper arms suggests she might have an idea of what's going on.
No one should have any trouble hearing the sound of Brennan's molars grinding together.
Cambina's voice has taken on a terrible urgency of its own. "I was outside with Marius talking about some odd dreams he's had. Chantris' was ending as we returned."
It is at about this point that Merlin appears in the middle of the Paige-Jerod-Viking/Brita group.
Folly makes a guttural sound that might be a stifled expletive, although the emotion behind it is concern rather than anger. "I'm gonna...." She gestures minutely in Merlin's direction and is about to take off, when....
"Oh, son of a bitch," [Brennan] mutters, with passion. "The same shapeshifter that set Merlin's shorts on fire and sent him scrambling through Paige's Trump, I'd guess. It's what I was trying to tell you-- Brita detected a chaosi, and we don't know who. My money is on Dara."
Martin says, "Next time, spare me the song and dance and spit it out first thing." Folly thinks he made some effort not to snap at the other man. The altogether uncasual gesture that ended with Martin's hand on Folly's arm puts Martin's hand near his own blade, should he need to draw it.
Folly has stopped in her tracks and is standing very still, waiting, thinking, her attention divided between Martin and the group around Merlin.
Brennan's eyes are still, futilely, on the crowd, but his ears are on the conversation.
It is an effort of pure will for Brennan not to put his hands on his weapons, but to stand or walk seemingly relaxed, engaged in the futile effort of trying to see where Merlin came from. Maybe the infamous Vere will have had better luck.
He looks at the vast sea of costumes, masks, and hidden identities.
"Our recognition phrase," he says, "is 'bitter irony.' This is so not good."
As Corwin crosses over towards Merlin, Paige, Jerod, and Brita, Martin looks torn for a moment. He says, "I don't think she can hold costume changes. Look for Cambina, or someone in similar garb."
Brennan nods, understood.
Folly nods, frowning. "The Not-Cambina -- she seemed to know you?" she asks. The intensity of her gaze makes it seem like several questions at once.
Martin nods once, abruptly, but doesn't speak.
As the musicians strike up the second waltz, Martin looks at Cambina, and there's a moment of communication that neither Folly or Brennan is quite privy to. "Luck," says Martin to the both of them, and relinquishes Folly's arm to take Cambina's hand.
Folly gives another slight nod, and a hint of a smile.
There's a stir and ripple in the crowd as Merlin's sudden appearance from nowhere is noted by those nearby. Brita's attempt at covering seems to confuse people, but some of them are pretty sure of what they've seen.
The elders are all leaving the dance floor in pairs. Fiona is watching the group Merlin has joined, and Random is looking around intently.
Bleys is casually scanning the crowd, his hand near but not on, the hilt of his blade. Catching sight of Lilly, he takes the Queen's hand and starts to lead her to her protector.
Corwin breaks from Flora and starts to move towards the little knot his son has joined. Flora cuts across to Random, and gestures to the musicians, who strike up another waltz. She extends her hand to the King, who notices the Sun only after the Sorceress in Green has nudged him, and belatedly the King moves to join her.
Caine appears to be making a beeline for someone in the crowd, with Llewella in tow. (Ambersiders suspect it's M.)
"What's happening, and which room were you in?" Paige asks, helping Merlin to straighten.
"Brand," Merlin says breathlessly. "He looked like Brand. Or Brennan."
It's fortunate that the Emerald Dragon's face is powdered white beneath her mask. It hides color draining from her face as her mind races to a conversation no more than a half an hour ago. As quickly as it comes she dismisses it.
Brita's response is to say in her Viking voice, pitched at a level to be heard by those non-family around them, "Lord Hawk! My compliments on your costume; it blends as well as a true hawk's camoflauge as I did not see you behind that plant. I believe the Lady Sun was looking for you earlier..." and Brita turns, managing to position her back towards Jerod, as she scans a half of the room as if looking for Solange. In her normal voice but almost under her breath, Brita says as she notes various reactions, "the Family is alert tonight." Her gaze passes over Vere, a slight nod of acknowledgment to Brennan as she catches his eye, and finally in her Viking voice, "Ah, there is the Lady Sun, she has attracted a Moth and an Otter to her sphere." The Viking's stance is relaxed as he gazes across the room. Brita notes Aisling's perusal of the room and subtly begins to follow her gaze without seeming to move her head - the wonders of a full mask....
Brita and Jerod can see the elders' reactions as mentioned elsewhere. As the music starts up again, Jerod catches sight of Venesch moving through the crowd towards the King.
Given what Merlin just said and the fact that unless all his Elders are lying Brand is dead and gone (they could be lying but it's very low on the probability scale even for his level of paranoia), Jerod is going to take a good hard look at Venesch, and wonder if it's actually him.
Jerod could not be sure from the look of him, but he knows the movements of his old armsmaster like he knows the grip of his own blade. If that's not Venesch, it's someone who has studied and mastered the movements of the Captain of the Guard.
Then suspecting that all will be well on that front (and any bad news Venesch might be handing to Random is something Random can handle on his own), Jerod proceeds to blend in and vanish in plain sight (and shifts momentum to the other thread).
Brita looks for her mother and brother in the crowd, noting their reactions and actions. Casually she asks, "You have seen our Fox, Lord Hawk? Perhaps you mistook another for him as I was speaking with him before the waltz, which he danced with Lady Moon, I believe. The costumes can be rather confusing at times."
"I am acquainted with the Fox. Yes. It was not he, but one who looked much like him. Garbed as a raven," Merlin says. He sounds a little less panicked.
Paige nods. "It's a very confusing thing a masquerade, the art of things not being themselves," she agrees. "We'll have to see what we might see, but for the time being, perhaps being seen is enough."
Sliding her hand under Merlin's she heads toward the dance floor, and hopefully into the path of an argent and sable harlequin. "I'd be thrilled to trip the light fantastic with you my dear Raptor, especially since our last dance was so rudely interrupted." _Stay visible, stay safe._
While Jerod does the exact opposite - he blends in to the crowd of Court, moving off to one side to allow the focus to be on Paige and Merlin and less on him.
Jerod is able to do so. The crowd is buzzing around him.
" ... he just appeared ..."
" ... say he's a strange one ..."
" ... chaosite creature ... sometimes male, sometimes female ... disgusting ..."
" ... Prince Corwin's son ..."
The Viking sends Jerod a long glance and then turns and begins to move around the room. Stopping to enter several nooks in order to get some _breathing_ space. If she finds what she is looking for, she will begin to follow the trail...
Jerod remains invisible amongst the crowd, nodding at the precise times, smiling ever so perfectly at the banal comments that people offer and then promptly forget as much of what they said as who they said it to. He can monitor Brita's progress even as he does not seem to acknowledge it, and continues to watch and listen and wait.
[Clarification: the nooks are out of the main chamber where the dancing takes place. They are off the side rooms like the bar, the champagne fountain, etc. Chasing around the nooks will take the two of you out of the main room. There's no problem with that, but you should be aware of it.
Also, you'll have to start on one side or the other to go through the full set. Food and bar are on one side; champagne fountain is on the other. Which side?]
In that case, ignore the chasing...if she shooes the bad thing this way, that's good. [Jerod] remains watchful of Merlin, King and company.
The Viking heads first towards the champagne room. He selects two glasses of champagne and then procedes to check into each nook off this room. Brita breathes deeply at each nook, searching for the lingering scents of Merlin and his visitor. The Viking looks like he is looking for someone, glancing into each nook and excusing himself to anyone he may find there. Once done with these nooks, whether Brita finds a scent or not, the Viking will move back towards the ballroom. Scanning the crowd and holding the two glasses, he appears somewhat deflated for a moment and then perks up somewhat, apparently spotting his quarry across the room as he moves around the dance floor towards the buffet room (or whichever room is two away from him on the circuit of the room).
It happens that Aisling is where Marius and Solange step off the dance floor. "You danced together like a warm summer's day," she remarks with a smile, inclining her head to them. "Allow me to take a moment to remark on the excellence of your costume, my lady; I am very much impressed by the articulation of your wings."
"Articulation," Marius murmurs with an amused quirk of the lips.
Solange chooses to ignore whatever Marius might be insinuating, since she finds herself annoyingly unable to discern what it might be. She responds to Aisling: "Thank you! It looks more complicated than it really is -- the mechanism's similar to an expandable hat-rack. I like the way you've managed your own wings, myself."
Aisling's own wings swish a bit, her streamers clearly having been on their way to do something, and she turns her head and stares at the Merlin-fading-rainbow-Paige-Jerod-Brita group full-on, as she does so not so much like a hawk as like an icon, carved from ivory, the sort of thing you'd find gazing out from an alcove of some very strange Russian church.
Then she turns that gaze on the entire volume of the ballroom in a slow 360. There is danger here, and she is surrounded. There is still no one making for her in a suspicious manner. Her position when she halts is such that she can easily see her affine, but no one could follow her line of sight directly to it.
Marius frowns, but it is seemingly more at Aisling's distancing than the Trump.
"The viking is Brita," she very quietly comments to the two with her.
"So I'd guessed," Solange answers just as quietly. "It did take me a while."
Marius tilts his head to listen, and then nods. He examines where he is in the room in comparison to others he knows of The Family. "There are so many people here," he says, under his breath. "I do hope no panic is going to begin. It would ruin my plans for a warm and cozy night." He winks at Solange, but he is also beginning to pull himself into a kind of "alert state."
Solange smiles back at the wink, but is equally concerned with surveying the room.
He carefully kept himself "a dagger's length" away from Aisling from the beginning. He's keeping those daggers' lengths ready at hand(s).
Marius, Solange, and Aisling see the crowd reactions, and particularly Caine heading for M, as mentioned elsewhere.
A faint Aisling smile flicks by at Marius's comment. There's a pause while she just senses the environment, and then she says further, quietly, "We are suited, as a trio, to watch out for each other's backs, while 'conversing'... Or perhaps one of you two is a being who could ask one of the knowing groups what happens?"
The environment has a number of family members in motion.
Flora is rather loudly calling for another waltz and seems to have claimed the King for it. Bleys and Vialle are talking to Lilly and Ossian. Corwin is with Merlin and Paige. Folly is talking to Brennan and Cambina and Martin are taking the dance floor. It seems as if the whole family is in motion, and everyone is very alert. People are nervous, but they don't know why.
Solange tilts her head, noticing, but says nothing.
Immediately, Robin's mind is off her own issues. She stops fluttering, shifting and crooning nervously instantaneously. The Ranger doesn't change her position but turns her head slightly so that the bevy is in her rather acute peripheral vision.
The Huntress watches as the flustered hawk appears among the quail with the flicker of a curious eyebrow, but no other change of expression.
"Sir?" she murmurs, ever so quietly. "I'm strung and loaded in five seconds. Should you need it."
"Not yet," says Julian. He watches the movements of his siblings across the floor.
"My sister is distracting the herd," he says as Flora moves towards Random and the music starts again. "I must play my part. Remember, a show of force will startle the deer, and that could be a tragedy. Go gently unless attacked."
Robin nods minutely as she watches the pack swing into motion, pacing together to separate and supporting ends.
"Orders, sir?"
"Find out what is happening if you can, but quietly," says Julian. "Meet me again after the dance with your report."
He releases Robin, like a hawk from her jesses, and moves along the edge of the crowd until he finds a suitable young lady, garbed as a nightingale. Robin cannot hear all of the exchange, but she sees the girl flush with pride and pleasure as Julian takes her arm, all the gentleman, and leads the girl onto the floor for a waltz.
There's hooded yet present savage flash of joy in Robin's eyes as her father looses her. For a moment she soars at the edges of the crowd, raptor's eyes taking in the patterns of movement; Paige and Merlin to the dance floor, Jerod to cover among the flocks, and the strangely familiar Viking... subtly hunting!
The Huntress' head cocks. Paige and Merlin are unapproachable right now - most likely the intent. That leaves Jerod or the stranger. And since in any choice between Jerod or another, the other is the lesser of two evils, Robin turns her wings so that her flight seems to accidentally intersect with the Viking's prowl.
Making a rapid decision, Vere heads back towards Gerard. It's the most expected thing he would do, and right now he suspects that behaving normally is a good thing. And from his vantage behind Gerard he has a fairly good view of the main hall, and perhaps he can begin to put the pieces together and determine just what is going on out there.
When Vere makes his sweep of the Hall from Gerard's side, he sees that Merlin has suddenly and unexpected arrived in the middle of the Paige-Jerod-Brita trio.
He is also in position to see the reactions to the arrival.
Vere's immediate reaction is to scan the Great Hall and any portions of the adjoining rooms he can see from where he stands, looking for anyone reacting to the situation in a way that seems out of character. Trumping Merlin in like that was almost certainly the result of a serious threat (although in the back of his mind Vere acknowledges the possibility that this is simply another example of Paige acting without considering all the consequences of her actions). Combined with the unusual activity that he had already noticed, the probability is very high that something dangerous is going on, and as someone not in the middle of things he is in an excellent position to gather information.
The crowd is, as mentioned elsewhere, confused and curious, but not fearful.
Vere can see pretty much all of the reactions described in all the other threads.
Gerard asks quietly, "What's happening?" Even in his wheelchair, he's tall, but there's a limit to how much he can see in this crowd.
Vere leans over casually, and says in a low voice, "The immediate cause of the commotion is the trumping of Merlin into the main hall, presumably from somewhere nearby, and presumably for a serious reason. He was trumped into a group containing Paige, Jerod, and Brita, who incidentally has been wearing man's attire this evening, if you have not already spotted that. Even before that, however, certain members of the family were behaving in a way that made me belive they were anticipating some sort of potential trouble. Prince Bleys is currently with the Queen, Lilly is on her way to her. Princess Flora has taken the floor for a dance with the King, Venesch is headed in his direction. Prince Julian is certainly aware of the trump, he was watching Paige, Jerod and Brita even before that occurred. Solange is with Marius and Aisling, they are all three on alert. Folly was with Martin, they had met Cambina and Brennan just before this happened, and have now changed partners." He frowns briefly as he says that last, then continues, "Prince Corwin is heading for Merlin, Prince Caine is heading for Marquess Maritime."
Gerard says, "Something's afoot, all right. Trouble, if Caine's going to M. You know he's got men among the guests, of course."
"He likes to be thorough," Vere replies. He straightens again, and continues watching, gathering more information, and trying to piece together what's going on. He smiles quietly as he watches Robin receive instructions from Julian and set out on whatever task she's been assigned, but doesn't allow himself to become distracted by concentrating exclusively upon her, tempting though it is.
Making sure that no one else nearby can hear, he will continue to give Gerard updates on what is happening as it occurs.
Benedict intercepts Venesch, and they converse. Caine and M are speaking. Martin and Cambina are at it again while waltzing; score one for Martin. Random and Flora are waltzing; Julian has found a partner.
Something so flashy, in this crowd? Alarums begin to sound in the Firebird's head. And currents of movement begin to make sense. He looks around for his father, finds Temperance and the Huntress parting company as the Sun and the Emperor call another waltz. Cover. Yes...and while everyone watches them, they watch everyone in return.
And out of a memory that feels eons old though it was barely more than a fortnight, a voice echoes. A fevered, desperate voice. As desperate as a Chaosite re-entering the main hall by Trump....
No. There could not possibly be a reason to think about that now.
Still...he had to admit. He'd be more comfortable near her.
He scans the hall and finds her, standing stock still in a way that gives him a half-second's chill. With Marius, and a gorgeous winged sun-goddess whose acquaintance he had not yet made. But her attention was not fully with either of these.
He closed the distance across the floor with strides he forced to make appear something approximating casual.
//Canareth, alert the wingleaders,// he projects as he walks. //Something is very much not right here, but I don't know what yet. If anyone's actions are seeming out of place, they should keep watch and keep me posted, through their dragons and you. Particularly anyone keeping too close a watch on the little guy dressed like a hawk.//
As Jovian moves through the crowd towards the group that contains Aisling, her attention turns to him and she watches, estimating. Even past the point where the grey suede glove on her right hand is aerated by the sudden appearance of sharp pale shell-purple edges along the sides of her palm and spikes at the ends of what were fingers.
[And by that, to be clear, I mean "finger". She only has the one complete one on that hand. ;) In fact, the only parts of the glove that aren't neatly cut, top from bottom, are those that cover the missing end of the ring finger and the chunk of palm.]
No, first she spends a certain amount of time cursing bluely behind her ivory facade, and then she spares a brief glance down, perhaps a hint of a sour Benedictine expression on her face, and then she casually tucks her right hand under her left arm, and nods a bit to Jovian in greeting.
"Well met, little Moth," the Phoenix says aloud as he comes near the odd trio of Moth, Otter and Sun. "Is it possible my flame could draw you out onto the dance floor?" There is a subtle emphasis there; non- cacti might well hear the subtext of _Move with me, before you become a focus of attention for worse reasons_....
Marius has made no comment for a moment or two, although he nods politely at the Phoenix's arrival. Those so inclined towards the fiery side of the spectrum would notice however that the fluttering lovely is now part of his potential "threat spectrum." It would be hard to say if it is a protective or defensive stance, however.
He closes his eyes for something that would just seem like a long blink and then looks towards the Sun. But not directly at, of course. "Would you mind, my dear lady, if we whirled once more in orbit?" A tension has been released here. He looks at the Moth and smiles, showing his teeth. It's not an unfriendly smile, in fact, the words behind it might be, "You are safer somewhere else than around me, this moment."
"A pleasure," Solange answers, picking up on the obvious tension between Moth and Otter, and not at all inclined to thwart the clear attempt to defuse it.
The Phoenix smiles and half-nods to the Moth, reiterating the offer. His right hand is extended in offering toward her left; his own left is held out just enough to make plain that her right would be hidden from prying eyes by the excellent design of his cloak-wings.
Aisling bows to them slightly in farewell. There is no tension on her part. Nor is there frustration; nor is there "Oh dear god, please don't leave me with him". There is, in fact, no particular emotion at all visible about her.
Then [Aisling] smiles at Jovian, "Perhaps next year at this time. For the moment, I am more curious to learn what is going on."
"I share your curiosity," the Phoenix admits in low tones, without appreciable tension but pitched to ensure his words are picked up by the Moth's antennae alone. "I'm coordinating other eyes and ears to that end. But when I saw a fellow Chaosite in panicked action, I immediately thought of...urrr...." He looks even less comfortable than such matters warrant, and finds himself unable to meet the Moth's eyes for a moment or two.
Aisling purposely misunderstands his discomfort to be kind (though, amusingly, I think she's also actually misunderstanding it) and so says gently, "I am sure there are others keeping an eye in my direction, too. But I do appreciate that you actually crossed the floor to me."
"I have a good memory that sometimes plays disturbing tricks," Jovian allows. "But that is a discussion for a less occupied time. For now, I am both intensely interested in what caused our Hawk to bolt his perch so abruptly, and intensely averse to drawing more attention to him by stepping up and asking."
Meanwhile she scratches the top left corner of her cloth-of-silver mask with the bared tip of her sharp and pointy right forefinger, glove held on as best as possible by keeping the fingers together and the thumb tucked up against their bottom side. Tucking this hand back along her left side, she continues the charade of "nervous tic" by rubbing the cut silver strands near her temple with her left hand, and then jerking a few out of the weave. With her hands demurely clasped in front of her then, the posture indicating that somewhere in there she's chastising herself for nervously screwing with bits of her costume, she winds the silver threads around her thumb and forefinger to keep the glove together.
His wily little half-smile is appreciative of the subterfuge, but his scan of the room shows he wonders who's buying it. He keeps an eye out for anyone noticing the transformation particularly, all the while keeping up the pretense of light patter....
"Our friend Lord Otter has as little knowledge as I, and our friend Lady Dragon is attending to her duties; but I suspect that our friend Lord Fox may know something of interest, and it is to our benefit that he does not appear to be seizing his opportunity to dance with the sweet and lovely Lady Swan," Aisling suggests, in the process of finishing tying her glove together.
"Indeed - though the way he's scanning the place it would probably be useful for him to have an excuse to turn round and round. Shall we find out what he's looking for?"
"That would be pleasant," Aisling agrees, finishing with the glove, and letting that hand return to its usual not-attracting-attention carriage. She wends her graceful way through the crowd, however, with Jovian on her left. Her angled glances continue to update her on those approaching herself and Ce'e.
Last modified: 25 June 2003