Star Wars [Halloween Fun] The First Annual RPF Masquerade Ball

[image=http://forbiddenplanet.co.uk/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/Graveyard%20Book%20McKean%202.jpg]

At the edge of the galaxy, there is a planet.

The name of the planet is unimportant. So is, ultimately, the planet itself. It's an ordinary planet with ordinary beings leading ordinary lives.

Somewhere on the planet, there is a hill. On the hill there is a house. It is a grand building, majestic even - or was, once. Now its huge form has fallen into disrepair, its grounds unkempt, its windows shuttered and dark. Nobody knows when it was built, or why, or who lived there. All the people know is that nobody who enters - and people do, sometimes, kids mostly - is ever seen again.

But once a year, a mysterious fog begins to creep out of grounds of the house. The fog is thick and ominous, and seems to be made out of something more sinister than vapour. The people who live at the foot of the hill shut themselves in their homes and shudder in fear. Some brave souls venture out and swear they see lights ... lights at the old house ... but that is impossible. Nobody has lived there for as long as anyone can remember. Nobody who enters ever returns.

Nobody, except those invited to the...

First Annual RPF Halloween Masquerade Ball!

[image=http://www.examiner.com/images/blog/EXID3095/images/masquerade.jpg]

The Ball, as you may have guessed, takes place in a mansion on an insignificant planet at the edge of the galaxy. The local populace thinks the mansion is abandoned, haunted even, but that's what makes the location perfect. It means you can have your fun without any ... interference ... from anyone.

---

[i][b]The Mansion[/b][/i]

Despite its shabby outer appearance, The Mansion is very well-equipped with a full complement of staff and all the amenities commonly found in modern life.

A spookily-lit [b]Entrance Hall[/b] greets all those who enter, and a rust-coloured protocol droid is on hand there to take your coat.

[image=http://roboawesome.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/hk47.jpg]

Directly to the left of the Entrance Hall is the [b]Ballroom[/b], which has been tastefully decorated for the occasion. A live band plays on the stage, and food and drink is served on floating platters guided by invisible forces (or, as the astute will deduce, tiny droids on repulsorlifts). And, every hour on the hour, flames gush out from the lanterns and crisscross the ceiling.

[image=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v605/xany/brandeshalloweencover2020082032.jpg]

For those who prefer a quieter atmosphere, The Mansion also offers a cozy [b]Lounge[/b]. The Lounge is fully equipped with a fireplace and comfortable leather sofas, and the floating platters are on hand to provide refreshment here too.

[image=http://www.ghoulfriday.com/files/images/LRnoflash.preview.jpg]

And for the players who prefer to venture outside, [b]The Grounds[/b] are large, sprawling and eerie. Mysterious glowing jack-o-lanterns dot the grounds, providing barely enough light to see by. There is a graveyard at the back, from which fog billows - at least, it seems thicker there. There is a rambling rose garden that might, at some point, have been a hedge maze. And of course there is the path to The Mansion itself ...

[image=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v605/xany/3808758813_a945e063f9_z.jpg]

Other things - rooms, places, gardens - may also appear, as you explore. Who knows? The Mansion has a mind of its own, sometimes. Don't worry if you get lost. That protocol droid - you know, the one that took your coat - will come find you.

[hr]
[i][b]The Game[/b][/i]

This game will be just like any other RPF Ball, with a twist: [u]every player must play under a sock[/u]. The ultimate goal of the game is to identify who exactly is behind your fellow players' masks. At the end of the game, the player (or players!) who correctly identifies the most socks is the winner and will be awarded colours for 72 hours.

That's right, the Masquerade Ball is a sock hunt! Everyone is welcome to participate. It doesn't matter whether you're a RPF

 

IC: Cerberus the Wolf
location: graveyard

For anyone who bothered to look, they would have witnessed a large amount of disturbance in the undergrowth at the back graveyard, where the brushes and thorns grow thick together- an impassable terrain for any human. But the great wolf Cerberus is no human. Snorting slightly, he pulls himself through the last of the thorns and pauses to lick a couple of scratches on his legs; where his thick grey fur has thinned slightly through age.
Rising to his feet again, he pads silently through the graveyard, orange eyes gleaming slightly through the slight haze before him.

In the still damp fog, his nose becomes his eyes and guides him towards warmth, food and human company. Pausing to sniff an angelic headstone as a distracting scent catches his nose... blood. He tastes it on his tongue... it is good and still warm. For some minutes the great beast is occupied with licking this most delicious fluid from the cold surface of the angel's face it covers. But the conservative amount is soon greedily demolished and sniffing the rest of the marble figure yields nothing. A small whine of disappointment, and the large grey being continues on his path up through the graveyard, a rather slow but steady stride which speaks years of experience as head of a healthy sized pack.
The furry muzzle reaches the gate of the graveyard, but the wrought iron is shut. After sniffing over the catch as if to decipher how to work it, the large beast turns to the side and pushes his way through the large hedge in which the gate is set. Once through, he shakes himself rid of the leaves and seats himself beside the gate, eyeing the glow of the house which is near enough to watch, but not so near as so the lights blind his night vision.

The cool night's mist swirls around his shape in the darkness by the gate; the back of his retina reflecting the light of house like two eerie orange lamps.

His ears prick as he hears the sounds of company beginning to arrive.

The people are coming.

[image=http://www.deviantart.com/download/61232894/__Wolf___by_Knarf2Gondolin.jpg]

TAG: Anybody

 

In Character: Q.P. Loumeak
Locale: The Path to the Mansion

At first, there was nothing. And then, in a spontaneous burst of imagination, there was something. Out from a giant puff of electric blue smoke stepped a curious character, Mr. Q.P. Loumeak. He wore a tall black tophat, a long dress coat, with a bright red vest underneath it, and of course, nice slacks. At the moment, he was also wearing old-fashioned dark blue tinted sunglasses.

"Ah yes, here is the place" he said with a big smile, his teeth so brightly white, they were almost lit.

He started looking around for something.

"What a bright cheery locale. A shame it is not a bright cherry locale. That would be far more delicious." he muttered, "Ah ha! Here you are!"

He picked up his neon green carpet bag, right next to him, tossing it a bit as if weighing it.

"What am I missing, what am I missing" he said, still talking to himself. He started snapping, the thing surely on the tip of his tongue.

"Oh yes, my cane!" he proclaimed triumphantly. The man promptly reached into his bag and pulled out a rainbow colored cane many times longer than the bag he pulled it from. On its top was a bulb of jellybeans.

"Wonderful!" he said, finally satisfied. He then took off up the dark winding path, cane and bag in tow. The strange man took his time, playing with the thicker pockets of fog and marveling at the spiderwebs as he passed them.

"What beautiful lacework! My word!" he proclaimed, enthralled, as he spied a particularly large one. He brushed the large spider sitting on it aside and stuffed the web whole whole into his bag.

Finally, the strange man arrived at the door of the Manor. It was a magnificent structure, just oozing with dead-world charm. One step above old-world you know. Loumeak had a bunch of similar stuff in his shop, but this was like, giant. It was awesome.

Except:

"Needs a doorbell." he muttered, momentarily perplexed.

The solution came to him instantly. Loumeak, all smiles, started rapping on the door incessantly with his cane until it opened.

Tag: Other guests

 

Within Himself A Character: Ash
Approximate Location: Graveyard

All was calm within the grave yard as the first crunch of his heel upon the ground echoed, stepping out of the crypt whose lid was yet shoved to one side as haphazardly as the rising fog was dense. Perhaps his step would bring someone, perhaps not. Yet within this valley of death he was contented for a moment to look at flesh before the moon reappeared, and with it his flesh disappeared.

Left with rags and bones so unnaturally animated he soldiered on at an ungainly pace, each third step a shuffle toward the mansion. "Not even Billy Bones this site would think to see!" he exclaimed chuckling to himself as his bones rattled from the action. Each spoke of a frame built for a stalwart body in life, which would be seen again. By the rags twas known that baggy clothes of varied earth tones and leather once decorated his body, with the sword and hatchet speaking to his piratical nature, as well as the gold doubloon that hung about his neck.

Even if old and worn, these things became like new once more along with his body once sequestered out of the moon light.

"What do you do with a drunken sailor, what do you do with a drunken sailor, what do you do with a drunken sailor early in the morning." He sang on as he made his way to the Mansion.

Tag: Other Guests, Cerebus

 

IC:dooR_esrevnI

tI saw taht emit fo eht raey_niaga.

I dluoc leef ti. nihtiW ym senob, gnisruoc hguorht tahw dessap rof hself, dna edisni eht diov erehw ym luos ecno saw.

sihT thgin denokceb, ti dellac ot em, dna I dednopser.

I dehsup eht htrae taht desserppo em, dna dewalc ym yaw tuo fo ym gnitser ecalp_dna yllanif esora.

I ylwols demrofer dna dengilaer flesym.

"Ahhhh, there. Much better." I whispered chillingly into the night air.

How alien was the sound of one's own voice after so long a time.

Sluggishly at first, I moved towards the only location that interested me.

Yes. The Mansion on the Hill. "It" would draw them here, and I would need to do what must be done.

Anew.

I chuckled.

The night was young, indeed. Full of possibilities, like the Full Moon above.

So come one, come all, and seek out thrills and chills. For this was the night for such business.

Come merry-makers, and let's have ourselves a good and proper Masquerade.

gaT: oN eno tey.

 

IC: Dalek Caan

History records that Dalek Caan, the last of the Cult of Skaro, flew into the jaws of the Nightmare Child a hundred times to rescue Davros? command ship.

Sometimes, he must have taken a break.

This was the 79th attempt

---

[color=darkblue]He was inside the jaws again!

Noooo! The dalek creature inside the polycarbide shell rammed into the inside wall as the armoured life-support vehicle that everyone recognised as a Dalek, spun away from a giant, bus-sized molar, and whirled out into space again, the starfield spinning past the internal screens.

?[b]Emergency Temp-[/b]?[/color]

[i][color=red][b]The Grounds[/b] are large, sprawling and eerie. Mysterious glowing jack-o-lanterns dot the grounds, providing barely enough light to see by. There is a graveyard at the back, from which fog billows - at least, it seems thicker there. There is a rambling rose garden that might, at some point, have been a hedge maze. And of course there is the path to The Mansion itself ...[/color][/i]

?[b]-oral Shift!![/b]? Dalek Caan noted the readings from the metal skin of his machine with some disgust, the giant pepperpot shaking with indignation as the metallic voice grated loudly: ?[b]I am covered in flob! I am covered in flob![/b]?

Caan slowly noticed the terrestrial-type surroundings.

?[b]Gravity detected! Atmosphere detected! Where the frak. [i]Am I[/i]???[/b]?

Omni-directional audio receivers on the surface of the battle armour picked up the faint voice floating out of the mists first: "[i]What do you do with a drunken sailor, what do you do with a drunken sailor, what do you do with a drunken sailor early in the morning?[/i]"

"[b]You EX-TER-MINATE him! Time of day irrelevant.[/b]" The metal dome atop the shape spun slowly until it had zeroed in on the direction of the voice, and the round light at the end of the single artificial eyestalk shrank to a blue hexagon as the Dalek noticed the distant mansion and focussed upon it. ?[b]Hello?[/b]?

[b]Tag: Any in the Graveyard[/b]

 

IC: Cerberus the Wolf
location: just outside the graveyard's gates

The grey beast watched silently in the cold chill air the back of the mansion. The silent being?s ears pricked and twitched with interest suddenly. Some new noise? and a new scent had caught in the senses.
Torn bone and flesh?. Fresh from the grave, indeed that earthly tang was nothing else and the smell of the bone made the creature drool slightly.

The orange lamp-like eyes were distracted by the moon passing between clouds, full and beautiful as she allowed the planet below to glimpse herself in all her splendour teasingly before hiding herself behind another grey mass once more. But she was not yet at the night of her passage across the night?s sky. The wolf turned his attention back to the more immediate disturbance.
?What shall we do with the drunken sailor??
His face turned to the gate through which he was sure someone was about to pass though.

There was an ear-splitting crash.

?-oral shift! I am covered in Flob! I am covered in Flob! Gravity detected! Atmosphere detected! Where the frak. Am I????

The grey wolf felt his danger senses go haywire. He swung his whole body to face this new danger from inside the graveyard, crouching, fur bristling, ears flat back on his skull. His whole body was hunched over to flee, but he did not. Had he still been in charge of a pack, he would have immediately vacated the area to lead them well away from this new threat. However, with nobody else?s lives on the line, he was more daring and ready to face this new evil.

??What do you do with a drunken sailor early in the morning?"
"You EX-TER-MINATE him! Time of day irrelevant."

He growled low and threateningly, but stayed on his side of the gate where there was room to flee if necessary. He didn?t fancy being cornered.

[image=http://i304.photobucket.com/albums/nn190/WolfsRain1234/Special%20Albums/Real%20Wolves/GreyWolfGrowling-1.jpg]

TAG: 913-74BakerSt, Dalek_Caan

 

IC: dooR_esrevnI

A stream of old and fractured memories threatened to take hold of my mind, but something more immediate managed to dominate my senses.

Vibrations in the air, pulses of sounds, words, yes, that's what they were. Words were being spoken, and words had a place of origin. As did the different scents I perceived.

This was like experiencing a new world again. Torpor did atrophy a body so! But the old skills and occult talents, they were still there; active, sustaining me?empowering me even now.

So I turned. Languidly still, towards the voices, and with my baleful eye did survey what lay before me. The feel of my long flaxen hair upon my nape surprised me. Had it grown during my slumber. My skin, still reforming upon bone an sinew, was not unlike alabaster.

?What shall we do with the drunken sailor?? A voice 'sang' aloud.

Oh, yes. The voices.

"You EX-TER-MINATE him! Time of day irrelevant." Another called out, plainly declaring its intentions.

Mine eyes beheld two the beings, who's relative sentience were revealed through occult vision. One was kindred, a revenant from the looks of it. The other was not. The aura that surrounded him was most strange indeed, as was the suit of armor it wore. Naturally, this peaked my curiosity.

Not too far fro me, a garou growled threateningly, evidently not pleased with what it sensed. Was this a follower of Elune who had shifted? a new guardian perhaps?

I sighed at the possible mystery, but found enough strength of will to keep myself focused in the moment.

"tnavelerrI!?" I said, then realized what I had done. I cleared my throat, which sounded more like the death throes of an abyssal creature, then tried again. Having heard them speak first, I knew which language to choose from. No need to guess this time 'round, thankfully.

"Irrelevant?" I heard myself say.

Ah, that sounded better.

"Fool!" I cried out, as I pointed a pale and bony finger at the self-appointed exterminator. " If you knew a thing, then you would know that nothing is irrelevant. Know you where you stand? Know you the laws of the land, the rules of engagement thereof?.or more importantly?what "Night" this is? Have you no 'esteem'?" I demanded,, my voice carrying into the fog. "If not, I dare call you a fool twice!"

I gestured with my naked arm and waved it, encompassing our surroundings. Here, the fog laden graveyard, thither; the path to the grounds, and yonder, was the Mansion itself. How ominously it radiated.

Well, that 'bit' was certainly unexpected and long winded of me. I kept my surprise hidden and maintained my enigmatic demeanor.

Yes, on this night, the Mansion drew them here. All sorts, from far away places and locales, even from beyond the Veil. And though it was true that the Mansion could take care of itself, and those who defied the rules?well, we all had our roles to play. It wouldn't be good sport otherwise.

This was a night for revelry and intrigue.

And so it was, that small thought actually inspired me.

"Forgive me?" I offered with a bow. "It's been sometime since we've had guests." I said, sounding as sincere as it was possible for someone like myself.

I then affixed mine eyes on the revenant and addressed him first.

"If it's drink that you seek, then I suggest you make your way to the Mansion proper. I am confident you will find the most exquisite libations there."

I nodded graciously at one who was kin, hopefully imparting a measure of reassurance.

To the strangely armoured would-be exterminator, of him I simply queried:

"What is it you seek?"

I held my peace for a moment as I awaited an answer, but in my mind I prepared a spell, just in case I would need to use it. This one was still a mystery to me, his intentions unclear, but that would be eventually revealed.

Beyond him, even from this distance, I could see an aura by the Mansion. A guest had arrived there, but there was little I could do at the moment to assist. I could only hope that someon

 

Tulak

What a wonderful smell.

A most curious thing to think of, when first arriving to somplace new. But that is what first came to his senses. The fog lay thick, and within its dampness, brough up all types of delicious smells. Of things that creaked and moaned, and of things long burried. Of wet earth, and was that ... the smell of burning hickory and fresh meats? A party. Excellent.

He steped out from within the confines of the fog, noticing a path, heading towards a rather large mansion. He made sure his apperance was up to par, his hand brushing his jacket as he stolled up the dark winding path. His black sharply creased pants were topped by a dark blue velvet vest, long black sleeve shirt, and a long dark formal jacket. A cloak, simple, yet ellagant completed his look. As he drew near to a door, he saw another standing there.

A man perhaps, but definatelly the must color uncoordinated or perhaps color blind being he had ever seen before in his life. He looked like a walking rainbow, and when Tulak spied the man's cane, he could only wonder what curse had beset the man.

As the technocolor conglameration stood, using his cane to knock upon the large doors, Tulak walked up to him.

"Did you try the door?" Tulak asked him, as he reached towards the other door he was not busy rapping upon, and opened it. The door swung open to his touch, and Tulak stolled in, taking look around.

The first glance, slightly reminded him of home. A dimly lit Entrance Hall greeted him. What was most curious was the rust colored item that greeted them. A droid. It offered to take his cloak but he declined, and continued his travels.

Directly to the left of the Entrance Hall is the Ballroom, which has been tastefully decorated for the occasion. A live band plays on the stage, and food and drink is served on floating platters guided by invisible forces (or, as the astute will deduce, tiny droids on repulsorlifts). And, every hour on the hour, flames gush out from the lanterns and crisscross the ceiling.

Excellent. He clasped his hands together in anticipation of the nights affairs.

TAG: Splendiferous, anyone else entering the Mansion

 

In Himself A Character: Ash
Approximate Location: Graveyard

??What do you do with a drunken sailor early in the morning?"
"You EX-TER-MINATE him! Time of day irrelevant." came the first harsh reply, followed by a soft growling that whispered to his senses that more was happening here than he could perceive. A most enjoyable circumstance indeed.

Just as he was about to have a few words with the talking barrel a new noise interrupted, sounding like the death moans of a krakken once beached upon the sands of some forsaken isle. Once the noise took on a better quality of that of voice, the new speaker shown as something not too unlike himself began a tirade.

"Fool!" it cried out pointing a pale and bony finger at the self-appointed exterminator barrel. "If you knew a thing, then you would know that nothing is irrelevant. Know you where you stand? Know you the laws of the land, the rules of engagement thereof?.or more importantly?what "Night" this is? Have you no 'esteem'? If not, I dare call you a fool twice!"

Then the thing apologized, something he hadn't expected, and something that lowered his own opinion of newcomer a couple of notches. Apologizing to barrel? Simply un-understandable and unconscionable, or at least it would be if he possessed those items of consciousness that usually made such things.

"If it's drink that you seek, then I suggest you make your way to the Mansion proper. I am confident you will find the most exquisite libations there."

At this he began to chuckle, a rattling noise of rubbing bones, and roughened voice. Yes, he like this being very much indeed, "Though I cannot enjoy all of it, I ne'er turn down a offer of the likes!" Spinning around on his boot heel he stopped to speak over his shoulder, "Actually you put in him in the longboat with the captains daughter, at least that's what I liked best." He stated with a mischievous grinning tilt of his jaw.

Shuffling up the way to the mansion he stopped next to one of the lanterns that yet cast a baleful light upon the cemetery he couldn't remember being buried in. "If want pup you can have what I cannot." he simply stated without looking to the beastie that had growled before making his way to the rear entrance of the Mansion.

TAG: Dalek_Caan, dooR_esrevnI, Cerebus66, Mansion Host

 

In Character: Charles Danielsson
Some Other Place, Some Other Time

As President James Marshall was about to cause the 198th - 196th if you didn't count the two times he got better - death of one Charles Danielsson, the latter noted with a grim smirk that there had been a time when he sincerely enjoyed the film Air Force One. Then again, he had also enjoyed Quantum Leap at one time, before "The Accident."

That was how you could tell it was significant: there were quotation marks around it. Were it italicized, it's also possible that you would be able to note the importance, but you may have thought it was a reference to an Elie Wiesel, and so the quotation marks were opted for. Yes, you are being referred to directly, because Charles Danielsson has the power to break the fourth wall for the sake of some cheap laughs. Whether or not this incriminates the identity of one "Wadsworth" remains to be seen, but the odds are pretty damn good that it does. "Wadsworth" willingly concedes that he or she is only in this for "the lulz."

But that was neither here nor there, because Harrison Ford was telling Charles to "GET OFF [HIS] PLANE!" - shooting him in the process - and then... well, this fall was going to smart. Danielsson was used to falling to his death by now, but it never got any easier, and frankly, neither did dying in general.

You see, "The Accident" was the result of a bizarre laboratory disaster which combined some stale candy corn, a lab rat, Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales, and .700 L (That's three significant figures, for those of you playing along at home) of a substance which definitely contained "stuff." We apologize for the nebulous implications of that description, but pseudoscientific hogwash never sat well with Charles - "Still doesn't," he added, wind whipping past his face - and "Wadsworth", being a man or woman with an education, could not in good conscience conceive of a compound - artificial, fictional, or otherwise -containing the necessary properties. Hence, "stuff," in an attempt - "Rather blatant" Charles noted - to use comedy to divert your curiosity. By calling attention to this tactic, we may have, in fact, totally ruined its chances of success. If you feel this is a slight on our part, you may take it up with the management.

(Note that the last sentence of the preceding paragraph was made in jest. Please do not contact us. - The Management)

"The Accident" had the strange effect of killing Charles. This is less strange when you consider that Chaucer is extremely deadly. In fact, 14 people die each year from Geoffrey Chaucer alone, to say nothing of the 700 or so serious injuries that occur. These statistics have been verified by absolutely no one, especially not the management, but here's a graph.

[image=http://school.discoveryeducation.com/clipart/images/graph.gif]

Now that's convincing.

Charles, now dead, was astonished to discover that he was now occupying the body of one Don Barzini, who you most likely do not remember from The Godfather. Then he found himself forced to comply with the actions taken by Mr. Barzini as depicted in the film, and then he got shot in the back. If that just spoiled part of The Godfather for you, what the hell rock have you been living under? Kids these days. Harumph.

The narrative gets repetitive after that, but we will try to summarize. To wit: Charles is leaping between media villain lives and is forced to carry out actions that consistently result in his untimely demise, and has done so approximately 198 times. "It su-" Charles began, but after that his only comment was some kind of "SPLAT!" onomatopoeia that...

Oh. Oh. Mr. Danielsson was not actually the person making that noise.

On a related note, does OxiClean work on blood stains?

****

Charles came to in the body of what is, quite possibly, the single most evil character in the history of fiction. We are referring, of course, to Wadsworth the Butler, but only in the third ending.

See what we did there? The sock is named Wadsworth and

 

Tulak

As Tulak surveyed the scene before him, he felt movement behind him. He partialy turned, to notice another being walk up to him.

"Hello sir!" the man greeted him so cheerfully. "Lovely night for a ball, wouldn't you say?"

Tulak turned fully to greet the man. "Yes, it seems to be quite a fine night indeed. I look forward to the nights activities."

Tulak noticed a platter floating by, and deftly reached out to take one of the tidbits laying on top. He took a sniff of the offerings, and took a bite of the item.

Hmmmm. Quite delicious.

He saw another platter flying by. He looked towards the man. "I am called Tulak. You should try a platter. Very pleasant." He gave a nod, as he took another bite. "And you are?" he asked, as he waited for a reply. No matter what time period, one should always make an attempt at politeness.





TAG: Wadsworth, host, anyone

 

HOST NOTE: Just a reminder that you can send in your guesses at any time. You don't have to wait until the two weeks are up.


IC: The Rust-Coloured Protocol Droid

Those still in the Entrance Hall were surveyed by a protocol droid, arms outstretched in its best approximation a welcoming pose. As things stood, it looked more like a pose designed to scare small children.

Some guests had handed it their coats without much ado, but some seemed to need further prompting.

"Greeting: Welcome to the Mansion," it offered. "Pre-programmed offer: May I take your coat?"

That not all the guests had coats (or rather, removable coats, as it could be argued Cerberus the Wolf did have a coat, only he could not take it off) appeared to escape its notice. Or perhaps not? Its head tilted inquisitively in the wolf'd direction for a split second, almost as if the protocol droid were deducing the best way to remove said coat. But of course not. Why would a protocol droid do such a thing?

TAG: People entering!

 

IC: Cerberus the Wolf
location: just outside the graveyard's gates

Although the presence of the grating voiced creature that literally oozed danger was hardly putting Cerberus at ease, he could smell yet another being that was? ancient greatness? Before he could make any move, the jolly faced damp earth smelling being came through the gate and, ignoring the wolf, spoke.
?If want pup you can have what I cannot.?
The grey head of the wolf tilted in bewilderment, not understanding this riddle of a sentence. But there was no time to decipher this puzzle.

The whistling earth-smelling being headed up to the mansion but Cerberus stayed, pondering a while longer.
He could either head up to the warmth and food, or he could stay in the shadows and find out more about this great being, who he could potentially align himself with. But the wolf was hungry. Hunting alone was difficult and unsatisfying. His former pack now followed one younger, and he sometimes felt a shadow of his prime, although he would never admit it. He was old, aged almost silver in patches of fur.

The great wolf lay on the ground in indecision, one ear kept turned towards the graveyard but facing the mansion which could potentially satisfy the growing hunger in his belly, despite the presence of all these humans and other beings.

[image=http://www.fotosearch.com/bthumb/FSD/FSD066/x13486560.jpg]

TAG: Dalek_Caan, dooR_esrevnI

 

IC: dooR_esrevnI

I merely stood, immobile while I listened to the revenant as he began to chuckle, a rattling noise of rubbing bones, and roughened voice. "Though I cannot enjoy all of it, I ne'er turn down an offer of the likes!" It said, then spun around on its boot heel before stopping to speak over its shoulder.

"Actually you put in him in the longboat with the captain's daughter, at least that's what I liked best." He stated with a mischievous grinning tilt of his jaw.

Hmmm. I think I get it. He must mean the drunken sailor in his song. Quiet amusing and clever.

I watched him shuffle along as he made his way to the Mansion. As he passed the garou, he belched words which meaning I failed to glean. I watched as the garou reacted by tilting its head at the revenant. It didn't seem to extricate any more understanding from the revenant's words than I had. At that moment, I felt a strange pulling sensation at the side of my face. Initially I had thought it to be a spasm, but a moment later understood that my face had taken it upon itself to smile.

How odd.

Oh! maybe it was because I was experiencing a peculiar feeling?..what was it called again? Amusement?

Looking up at the Mansion once again, I did spy several more auras there. Good. At least some guests were better than no guests at all?or so I told myself.

Speaking of guests, the strangely armored one had said nothing else. Most curious. Perhaps it grew introspective, or?.well, I had no idea or what else. All I knew was to keep a watchful eye.

Interestingly enough, I felt eyes on me, an intelligent sentience perceived me, and I slowly turned to trace the source, and beheld the garou laying on the ground in a curious pose.

It's body faced the Mansion, but its ears were turned towards the graveyard, its aura fluctuating. I felt that strange tug on the side of my face once again. I certainly needed to get that under control.

Languidly, I reached into a pouch concealed within my tattered reinments and produced a talisman, a wristlet fashioned of linked worgen claws. It facilitated communication with the lupins and lykans, but long had it been since I dwelled among a pack of Dires. I would be surprised if I even recalled a bit of the syntax.

But what did I have to lose, especially tonight.

"gnoL thgin, ythgim retnuh, nik fo uoraG"

I inclined mine head as a show of respect.

"You honor us with your presence this night, is there anything you require?"

I paused a moment and waited for a reaction or a response. I could feel the enchantments upon the talisman, so I knew it was still a viable medium, the question was, could I still bridge the species barrier and establish a connection.

That remained to be seen.

gaT: Cerberus66

 

HOST NOTE: The two weeks are up, but I have not received all your guesses, so the game will be extended for a couple of days longer. Get 'em in guys!

 

IC: Cerberus the Wolf
location: just outside the graveyard's gates

Cerberus felt his ears twitch as the greatness behind him spoke.
"gnoL thgin, ythgim retnuh, nik fo uoraG. You honor us with your presence this night, is there anything you require?"

The accent was very strong, putting influence on the wrong sounds, making the wolf wince a little, but he understood and was pleased by the address, even if a little formal. And Cerberus wasn't quite sure who Garou was... perhaps he was from a story told by a different pack. Not that it mattered; the talk was clearly not intended to offend.

<"Are the keepers of stories already telling of the deeds of Cerberus to their pups? Am I then held in such high regard as the first pack? As of Lupus The First?">

He chuckled softly, not believing, as he got up and slowly turned at his own leisure to face his speaker. He tried to correct his posture so it was less dominating, but years as pack alpha were not easily forgotten and old habits died hard. He sat alert, facing this speaker of the canine language, his head high and attentive. He was pleased by the inclined head of this ancient being and continued in his low, deep tone.

<"I have never before heard our tongue spoken by one other than the wolves. Even of the stories that we tell among our race, there is only one that has any mention of another being communicating in our speech apart from the Lord of the Forest. And you are no god. You have earned my respect. Speak now. Of what race are you? I do not think you are human.">

He quickly added as an afterthought.

<"I mean no rudeness. Those who know not the ways of us would find our manner rather abrupt.">

[image=http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs7/i/2005/163/d/4/Sitting_Wolf_by_CoupeKid.jpg]

TAG: Dalek_Caan, dooR_esrevnI

 

IC: dooR_esrevnI
Mansion graveyard Gates, Samhain, All Hallows Eve

<"Are the keepers of stories already telling of the deeds of Cerberus to their pups? Am I then held in such high regard as the first pack? As of Lupus The First?">

Ah, contact. This was good. I merely listened at first as the wolf spoke, in an attempt to regain my grasp of lykan syntax. It wasn't quite as I remembered it, not that I remembered much of it after all this time, but the knowledge was returning to me ever so slowly.

I also learned that the wolf referred to itself as Cerberus, a good and distinguishing name to call oneself by, as names went. Though traces of mystic energies were present, my Aura Vision did not reveal any true connection with the guardian of Hades' gates. Perhaps it was there and required me to look deeper. Another possible mystery.

Now the mention of Lupus the First was no real surprise, although intriguing. There were many 'humans' that adopted this name for various reasons, but none of these were the one in question. Cerberus clearly referred to the Father of all wolfkind, though some believed it to be either Fenrisulfr himself or the first of his original offsprisngs, I personally was unsure as to which, although I knew the legend well enough. To this, I merely nodded in recognition of the name and by that honoring the great patriarch.

"It's been countless winters and moon cycles since I've dwelt among your peoples?" I stated simply and factually, and by that explaining a few things on my memory of the topic.

<"I have never before heard our tongue spoken by one other than the wolves. Even of the stories that we tell among our race, there is only one that has any mention of another being communicating in our speech apart from the Lord of the Forest. And you are no god. You have earned my respect. Speak now. Of what race are you? I do not think you are human.">

At the mention of the Lord of the Forest, I did incline my head once again. I found that my face tugged at both sides involuntarily. This time, I allowed it, for it was indeed good to speak with one as well informed as Cerberus. I do not believe I am able to recall the last time I had some intelligent conversation.

Cerberus, of course, requested his answers in earnest. I honestly could not blame him, though I had to admit I did savor the moment.

<"I mean no rudeness. Those who know not the ways of us would find our manner rather abrupt.">

"Have a care, honorable Cerberus, I am not so easily wounded by such a small thing as 'abruptness'. Be as familiar as it is pleasing to thee. And as you said, I am certainly no 'god', nor would I be foolish enough to don such glamor. Though I do believe I may have once been a frail mortal man, I have been many things since. I have lived for many centuries, and not all as a human. This latest form is that of a mystic scholar and philosopher, If memory serves, one who had a penchant for occult and dark arts. He found me and attempted to impose his will upon me, but soon found out the folly and high cost of his actions?for I am The Rood_Inverse."

I bowed deeply and deferentially before Cerberus, for I did enjoy the wolf's company. 'Twas an awkward sight -my bowing, of that I am certain, as my pale body folded itself, disheveling my long white hair. It mattered not to me to be honest, for such vanities were trivial things which only held power over mortal fools.

"My history is a long and complex tale and I wish not to bore you with it, however, I suggest we make our way to the Mansion for both sustenance and a bit of entertainment."

I think I chuckled then. My 'appetite' was very unique and specific and as dictated by nature itself, it demanded the terms of the 'cycle' be met. A life for a life. Although to be completely truthful, I needed to feed quite infrequently now?but, 'one step at a time' as the mortal saying went.

"I would be honored if you woul

 

IC: Cerberus the Wolf
location: just outside the graveyard's gates

"Have a care, honorable Cerberus, I am not so easily wounded by such a small thing as 'abruptness'. Be as familiar as it is pleasing to thee. And as you said, I am certainly no 'god', nor would I be foolish enough to don such glamor. Though I do believe I may have once been a frail mortal man, I have been many things since. I have lived for many centuries, and not all as a human. This latest form is that of a mystic scholar and philosopher, If memory serves, one who had a penchant for occult and dark arts. He found me and attempted to impose his will upon me, but soon found out the folly and high cost of his actions?for I am The Rood_Inverse."

Cerberus inclined his head slightly as this Rood_Inverse also bowed, acknowledging his companion's name.

"My history is a long and complex tale and I wish not to bore you with it, however, I suggest we make our way to the Mansion for both sustenance and a bit of entertainment. I would be honoured if you would accompany me. I do believe we'd make a memorable entrance, don't you think?"

The grey fur around Cerberus' mouth moved into a slightly amused expression. If he had his full pack here... that'd be an entrance to be told through many generations of cubs. But this would have to do.

<"I would never normally approach a gathering of humankind. But since you request my presence, and none seem to be out to hunt wolf-hide on this night...">

He moved to join the once-human on his path towards the mansion, but keeping several flanks apart. Cerberus would never walk at the heel of a human.

The great wolf was not too pleased by the look of the metal creature he could make out standing inside the doorway of the great house as they approached. It seemed to regard him with a rather hungry look and the wolf felt his fur bristle slightly. However, he was pretty sure that the strange thing would not try to make a move, at least not in front of so many others.

[image=http://www.bbc.co.uk/kent/content/images/2006/03/22/wolf_203x152.jpg]

TAG: dooR_esrevnI, Host

 

IC: The (G)Host

The Host has no name. Much like The Mansion, every time planet comes to this position in its orbit, it awakens and performs its function, and much like The Mansion it has no name besides Host. Nor does it need one; it merely is, as it is now.

So as the Halloween Ball wound to a close, the Host drifted down from a chandelier in the main hall and cleared its ghostly throat. "Lords and ladies of the Ball," it announced in a curiously loud, echoey voice that carried to everywhere in The Mansion's ground, "thank you all for coming.

"Alas, our time here draws to a close. It is time, therefore, to announce the winner of our little Masquerade Hunt. I believe I have your guesses ..." The Host reaches into a ghostly sleeve and draws out a scroll. It unfurls it with a flourish and smiles. "... and it appears the one who identified the most people is Rood_Inverse, otherwise known as greyjedi125!"

An oddly soft glow suddenly wreathes Rood_Inverse's - or rather, greyjedi125's - form, marking him out as the winner.

"Please accord him your best congratulations," The Host says, bowing deeply - and it would seem to Rood_Inverse that the Host bowed directly to him, despite them not being in the same place. The Mansion works in mysterious ways. It straightened and made to disappear -

- and paused, as if listening to instructions only it could hear.

"I am also charged with revealing the true identities of all players," it continued smoothly. "We have had the honour of hosting ..."

And it recited, as if reading off a long-memorised list, in the same echoey voice it had before,

"darthhelenith as Cerberus66,
darthramza as Wadsworth,
despised1 as Darth_Visha,
greyjedi125 as Rood_Inverse,
HanSolo29 as Hitchhiking-Ghost,
Imperial_Hammer as Splendiferous,
Ktala as Tulak_Horde,
Mitth_Fisto as 913-74BakerSt,
and Sith-I-5 as Dalek_Caan.

"It is our hope that your time at the Mansion has been well spent, and that you have all enjoyed yourselves." The Host spread its arms wide. "Until next year, my lords and ladies."

Then it disappeared in a puff of smoke.

The Mansion remained - but the more observant of the guests would notice that its walls were now ever so slightly translucent, and the glow of the lights was dimming. It would remain standing a while longer - but not much longer.

TAG: All


A round of applause to greyjedi125 for having the most correct guesses! You will receive your colours and title shortly. Well done!

Annnnd with that, the Masquerade Ball is now at a close. The thread will remain open for a few more days to allow everyone time to wrap up conversations and/or make make their dramatic exits as desired. Until next year, my friends ...

 

Dalek Caan

The metal construct had ignored the attempts at conversation by the three beings in the graveyard, and headed up to, and into the Mansion to find a source of power.

It needed to store a good load to make another temporal assault on the Time War.

A mangy hound had preceeded it inside the front door, and there were other beings inside.

"Greeting: Welcome to the Mansion," An artificial being had greeted, ""Pre-programmed offer: May I take your coat?"

?Unhand me, or you will be ex-term-ina-ted!?

Caan glided through the building, looking out for fellow daleks, or worst case scenario, The Doctor, enemy of the daleks.

The eyestalk looked around as it glided through, not necessarily with interest.

?Atmospheric shift detected.? Caan?s eyestalk looked up towards the chandelier, spotting something descend. The gun stalk raised to track it. ?HAAA-ALT!?

?Lords and ladies of the Ball, thank you all for coming??

Tag: no-one

 

IC: dooR_esrevnI

It was good to have Cerberus walk with me towards the Mansion in his own proud manner. His company stirred long, nearly forgotten memories in my mind, but as we reached the Mansion proper, it became clear that I'd have more than enough time for searching the far corners of my fractured memory much, much later. From the looks of it, Cerberus was not too fond of the Mansion's mechanical butler.

I tried not to chuckle, and I imagined I succeeded as I tried to reassure my canine friend as best I could.

"This is a night of celebration and you are a guest here. Have no fear, for no harm shall befall you this night."

No sooner had I spoken those words than our noble (G)Host made an appearance, drifting down from the chandelier.

"See?" I remarked to my new acquaintance.

The (G)Host cleared its throat and began to address those who were gathered.

"Lords and ladies of the Ball?" it began to say.

I listened casually as I scanned the room and regarded those in attendance. I was making my own mental notes according to the different colors, fluctuations and intensity of individual auras, when my attention was automatically drawn by the mention of my namesake.

"... and it appears the one who identified the most people is Rood_Inverse, otherwise known as greyjedi125!"

"Pardon?" Was all that I could say, as I was momentarily stunned by this development. "I'm sorry, there MUST be some mistake?" I began to say in protest, but an oddly soft glow suddenly enveloped my form. I must admit to have been caught unawares by our noble (G)Host, though several counter spells did come to mind, as if by reflex. I opened my mouth again to further protest this obvious case of mistaken identity, but it was all in vain..

"Please accord him your best congratulations," The Host proclaimed, bowing deeply.

"I, of course, returned the bow as convention would have it. I realized that being rude would serve no good purpose, so I decided to play along. Perhaps later I could 'clarify' this matter. Thankfully, the glow faded and I was all too relieved. The Host went on to reveal the identities of other guests, which I found most intriguing since I had no idea as to who they were. How extraordinary! Yet another mystery!

Sadly, before our very eyes, our noble (G)Host vanished in a puff of smoke and the Mansion began its reversion process. This caused me to sigh. Perhaps there'd been a time compression and I missed all the excitement, however, I would have picked up on the presence of chronal energies. No matter.

"Well, Cerberus?" I said to the wolf. "I guess I too must return to the Fade, to nether; But perhaps our paths will cross again. 'Tho believe me when I say 'tis was a pleasure to make your acquaintance here in the material world."

"kcaB ot eht rehteN, I oG. oT rebmuls litnu si emit ot esir niaga?lleweraF."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thanks everyone! It was fun while it lasted.