| Logs |
2012 January 22
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Taps Logs |
Lost in this Masquerade
Madame de Cygne clearly enjoys her masked balls. After the success of the ball now referred to as the "La Kitsune" ball, she'd periodically host another. They weren't yearly -- immortals have no need to rush -- but they were infamous within the city, and their fame was spreading. They'd become the place to see and be seen in the supernatural world, transcending even the sidhe courts.
This, of course, brought its own share of Byzantine supernatural political manipulations into St. Louis, but de Cygne was a clever woman who planned well ahead. Her bills were dealt with promptly, her bribes paid with pleasing discretion; her party's guests were always and only adults, often including every Hetaera in the city to help keep things pleasant and delightful; the more... rambunctious guests were generally kept off the streets until they'd recovered some time the next day; mortals who sneaked in uninvited were usually later released all still in one piece -- even if somewhat dazed -- and invariably the wise Madame made sure a handful of special invitations always went to... the "right" places.
It's been seven or eight years since the original "La Kitsune" ball, and this one is purportedly to celebrate the ascension of the new young king; immortals may claim to not care for short mortal lifespans, but they do enjoy a good excuse for a party! The White Dagger, La Fleche Rouge, and Xopuchmata are all receiving individual invitations by this point, and are happy to attend. Suraksha is in the city for the same reason as most everyone else is there; her caravan brought several guests and supplies into St. Louis, and both the new and former king have specifically requested her to be there for them. She's very fond of the boy (who looks on her as a surrogate mother/auntie) and happy to be Eacharn's Hetaera at the festivities. In the palace, Sulochana is amused but unsurprised to discover Eacharn has an invitation of his own to Madame de Cygne's next ball. The Hetaera happily agrees to attend with him both before and after the boy -- young man now, really -- has visited the party and then departed; the couple plan their costumes accordingly.
Chanticleer is quite happy to receive the invitation -- eager, in fact. It's been a while since the famous La Kitsune ball, and while he does not miss the machinations of the Courts, sometimes the frolic and festivities that his kin could come up with are worth more than just a passing fond thought. Plus he wonders, with rather palpitating heart, if Inari will be there.
The invitations have hinted that parts of this particular ball will be a bit risque. It is, after all, partially meant to be a coming-of-age party; for the sidhe that means something quite different than for most humans. Suraksha knows she's going to have to plan this very, very carefully. As the Hetaera accompanying the former king, she'll be at the Madame's ball in one outfit... but once the newly crowned young king and his entourage (which will include her and Eacharn) retire for the night, then she and Eacharn may re-costume and return in something slightly more... racy. The newly-crowned king of St. Louis is invited, of course, and the entertainment has been gathered from all over the eastern half of the continent. Besides dancers and singers, there are also Hetaerae renowned for their skill in what Madame de Cygne playfully calls "the excrutiatory arts." Chanticleer blinks a little, and asks rather innocently of Suraksha what that phrase means.
Suraksha laughs and admits honestly that she hasn't a clue! She's teasing as she asks her godsmother: is this a sidhe thing? Sna'tha is a bit amused as she says, "She's talking about sado-masochism and the like. There are going to be displays of bondage and sensation play. As I understand it, she's bought every rose available in the city for some grand tableau." Chanticleer blushes, but only for a moment, at the explanation. Then he nods to himself; he definitely will need to wear something other than what he wore last year. Now he's even more curious to see if Inari will be there!
Suraksha raises a thoughtful eyebrow at Sna'tha's words, and her voice is musing, "Ree-eally now? Hmm... I suspect she knows something about some of the local nobility then." The small woman gets a wicked glint in her eyes as she adds, "Well now! This... should be quite a show!" She giggles, giving both sidhe a quick hug before she adds, "I'm going to have to have Eacharn make up two sets of costumes, I think -- one set for us for while the bo- er, the new king is attending -- and one for after!"
Suraksha carefully works out, with the help of Fantine and Sna'thaid, what she'll require Eacharn to have discreetly crafted for them to wear. Then she seals the design papers and has Little Joe deliver them to the palace for her; he has strict instructions to hand them over only to His (current) Majesty Eacharn! She grins as she murmurs in a quiet aside to her two gleeful co-conspirators, "How much you bet he's initially horrified, and tries to talk me out of that second costume, mmm?"
In keeping with the young king's age, the first part of the evening is planned to be opulent but not outright erotic. Thirteen is considered adult in many places, but the richer one is, the longer childhood lasts. Madame de Cygne graciously greets young King Tamlyn and his adoptive father. This isn't Tamlyn's official coronation party, but it is his first chance to meet a lot of the non-human nobility in the city he'll be ruling. Eacharn is with him the whole time, making sure the boy's manners are impeccable. He needn't actually have worried: Tamlyn has been tutored and prepped to a fare-thee-well. The only real problem is the new young king is still a bit awkward with women -- and the sidhe, like most other non-humans, flirt much more freely than humans. Sulochana has done her best to prepare the young king for the sidhe, however, and Eacharn keeps her close by them so she can run interference for Tamlyn if necessary.
Sulochana is quite the proper Hetaera on Eacharn's arm, her lovely and elegant clothing both the height of fashion, and subtly matching the attire of the two kings -- both present and former. She's glowing with happiness for both men. Tamlyn had blossomed under Eacharn's gentle adoptive care, in ways the (former) Warlord of Houston would likely not recognize. The Hetaera is very proud of how well things are going for the two men, and warmly affectionate with both of them.
The clothing tends toward bustles, panniers, and hoopskirts for the women, and elaborate formal suits for the men. The colors are all over the spectrum and, from the top of the grand staircase, the grand ballroom looks like a living bouquet of flowers. The two kings are wearing scarlet and emerald, with gold trim -- the colors of St. Louis. The new king has a bit more ruby and gold, while Eacharn's formal suit is a more understated deep bottle-green. Sulochana's full-skirted dress is gold-embroidered emerald velvet -- to match Eacharn more closely -- with red trim and accessories at Tamlyn's insistence. Since she visits so rarely, 'Chana can be Tamlyn's favorite and beloved mama or auntie, and he her darling boy. Consequently neither of them are good at refusing the other's desires.
For the time being Chanti is in a well-cut formal suit in blacks and reds -- perhaps a little voluminous to conceal what he wears underneath, and a little lightweight in fabric for this particular climate, but still very tidy and neat. Inari hasn't yet shown up, though Chanti knows the Ballet du Reynard is in town. Chanticleer is a little curious as to why she hasn't yet shown; surely the prima ballerina would be at a gather such as this? Ah, well. He will certainly try to call on her before the caravan leaves, if for nothing more than a pleasant greeting -- and perhaps a lovely late morning stroll; it has been some time, after all. Then he belatedly realizes: she is, of course! -making a fashionably late entrance. [Has it really been that long since I've been to court? Especially since we saw her at the ballet earlier today! I shouldn't forget these things.]
The first couple of hours consist of some music and a light banquet, with a speech or two and some presents given to the boy. When the clock strikes ten, however, Eacharn and Tamlyn make their adieus and leave. The moment the door closes behind the adolescent king, however, several large and resonant bells are struck -- and Madame de Cygne proclaims it time for the masqued portion of the ball to begin! There is a cheer and much laughter. Those that brought their costumes with them retire to various bedrooms, antechambers, and even a large closet or two in order to change.
Chanticleer gladly doffs his outer clothing, revealing what he is wearing underneath; he does so without too much concern since, well, his formal suit is just the outer layer of what he is now wearing. He did have to change a little bit, but only a little, adding to the taut, butter-soft leather breeches and a jacket that is more like a high-necked shirt. The well-heeled boots are snug and fitted with brass, and the black leather, beaked mask likewise has brass inlays. But most noteworthy is the large, proud cock's tail of black feathers at the small of his back, and the crown of feathers reaching back from the masque.
The result of all the changing is about an hour's delay in which a few people are milling about and chatting while stages are set and costumes are changed. By the time the people start returning in force, four or five small stages have been set up here and there in the mansion. The largest one is in the back garden and is surrounded by a ring of torches on high poles, throwing crazy shadows all around the hedges.
Slightly earlier, Sulochana heads off with Tamlyn and Eacharn, and in the carriage back to the huge mansion-castle she delightedly congratulates the young king with how well he handled himself! The young man has had a very long and exciting day: his thirteenth birthday celebrations, coronation, and ensuing celebrations were all rolled into today. He curls up happily between Sulochana and Eacharn, and is soon out like a light. 'Chana and the former king smile and chat quietly together until they arrive, and then the Hetaera paces along with Eacharn as he carries the exhausted boy to bed -- with a tail of hushed and quietly whispering servants making all clear before them. Shortly thereafter Tamlyn is safely abed, and Sulochana and Eacharn are in his quarters.
Eacharn had been delightedly shocked and embarrassed when he found out what he would be wearing for the second half of the evening. He'd made a couple of attempts to talk 'Chana out of it, but they were mostly to nudge her into insisting. At first he makes a show of being reluctant -- even grumpy -- but the more insistent and commanding 'Chana is about the costume and the more skin she bares after putting on his elaborate headdress, the calmer and more blissful he becomes. The Hetaera hides her affectionate amusement at her dear friend's demeanor; she'd guessed he'd need his Lady to insist in order for him to most fully enjoy the evening's planned entertainments. That was also why she'd had him leave the palace with her, heading to a safe locale for them both to change and then continue onward to the party.
The Hetaera is actually rather proud of her lovely pony: she'd had him serve as her lady's maid to help her bath and dress, and as always he'd been flatteringly attentive. After that she'd made sure his costume and harness were all neatly and securely in place, and run her fingers through the shaggy, real-horsehair mane of the big mask covering his entire head. The beautiful black leather horsehead was quite striking, as she'd assured him, and matched the rest of his leather harness (of which there wasn't much), and the neat, silver-shod hooves covering both hands and feet.
After checking the ornately streaming, flame-like decorations braided and flowing into his mane and tail -- which nicely match her own rather slinky gold-and-scarlet dress and mask -- the Hetaera quickly harnesses her lovely pony into the elegant, tiny black cabriolet Eacharn had had crafted for her a year or two ago at her request. After that she picks up the reins and nods to Fantine, who had been keeping watch for them both. The little loogaroo grins and calls a cheery blessing to them both as she swings opens the big double doors. Xopuchmata snugs the reins slightly so her excitedly tense pony can feel her gentle, firm direction -- then she gives an encouraging click to the big, black-harnessed man and lightly draws the buggy whip across his back. With a gasping snort he breaks instantly into a brisk trot -- and they're off!
Eacharn shifts a little when he's strapped into the traces, but he holds his head high -- if he's going to be his Lady's carriage horse, he's going to do the best he can! It helps that he has the strength and endurance of a river-horse. The clicking of his silver-shod boots on the cobblestone streets makes his heart race even more than simply pulling the cabriolet warrants, and he's soon sheened with a healthy sweat. Sulochana croons quiet, sincere praise to her lovely pony -- he looks simply gorgeous, and she's proud to let him know!
Eacharn knows the city streets -- it is his city, after all -- but he lets 'Chana choose the path they take. It's late at night and there aren't a lot of people about, but there are enough to see the humanoid pony and be shocked, titillated or both. Sulochana makes no effort to hide or take less-traveled roads. Not only is she justly proud of how beautiful Each- no, must use the right name tonight! --how beautiful her handsome Black Stallion is, but she also knows he'll be more aroused and into his role as he's seen drawing his Lady Xopuchmata's elegant little carriage.
Back at de Cygne's mansion, Inari arrives just before midnight. Her arrival is not so outrageous nor so flamboyant as 'Chana and Eacharn's will be, but it does set many tongues aflutter. The ballerina is in shades of russet and black, referencing the color of her fur in her natural guise. The corset she wears is decorated all over in spirals and curves that accentuate the dip of her waist and the swell of her hips. The cups of it cradle her breasts, doing more to present them than to really cover them. The swirling designs are continued onto her skin in glitter-dusted black paint, and they climb the delicate column of her throat to cradle her jaw in a way that manages to suggest a collar. Her floor-length skirt is of russet silk and gauze in alternating strips that fall around her legs. They flutter and blow in the wind of her own movement, revealing that her feet are bare.
Her hair is shiny enough to look almost oiled, where it is brushed close to her head. It is pulled back and gathered high on the back of her head into a russet tail that falls almost to her waist, shading to black at the tips -- another nod to her true nature. Her small, harlequin-style mask mostly just frames her slit-pupiled eyes. Russet red gloves hug her arms up to the elbows; like her hair they shade down to black -- starting just above her wrists -- and end with tiny obsidian "claws."
Chanticleer brightens as he sees Inari, feeling his pulse racing as he sees what she is wearing, and the style... and in particular the pattern of the coiled body-paint. He moves confidently through the crowd to her, to pass by the more eager would-be courtiers, and bows with a warm smile as she sees him near her. "Pleasant greetings, lovely Inari; delighted to see you again."
Inari is smiling warmly and accepting accolades and compliments from the guests, but her breath catches and her eyes brighten when she hears Chanticleer's voice. Her eyes twinkle as she returns his smile, curtseying deeply enough that it is all but impossible not to stare at her modest but stunningly displayed decolletage. "And I am more than pleased to see you here, kind sir." She puts a playful emphasis on the last word, recalling her last encounter with the rooster sidhe.
Chanticleer's smile becomes a touch more mischievous. "Your performance earlier was breathtaking," he says warmly. His tone becomes invitingly, while still leaving it to her decision: "You must be famished after such a long day, and there is quite a buffet here. Might I suggest the cockerel?"
Inari laughs delightedly and says, "Thank you very much. I had heard your people were in town and I had hoped you'd be here. I believe I'll wait on the buffet, however. They say hunger is the best spice, after all." There is music in the background and a pair of dancers on a raised platform in front of the musicians. The dancers, one male and one female, are both bare but for porcelain masks, and streamers of silk ribbon at wrist and ankle. They are beautifully matched, both tall and slender almost to the point of androgyny, and the dance is designed to show the lines of their bodies and accentuate their natural grace. Their skins are tinged a delicate violet hue, suggesting they are not human.
The big city clock is striking midnight as the striking couple of Xopuchmata and Stallion arrive at Madame de Cygne's festivities -- the party is just getting into full swing! The Lady Xopuchmata knows this will be one of the more... risque parties de Cygne enjoys, and that the beautifully attired couple will fit right in despite Eacharn's earlier trepidation. The disguised Hetaera arrives in truly dramatic style that night; the gossips will whisper delightedly together for almost a decade of how she set the standard for beautifully elegant arrivals and fine conveyances -- what with driving her light, tiny cabriolet with swift surety through the Madame's estates and right up to the door!
At that point the Lady descends grandly from her carriage seat, snapping a light leadrope onto her panting humanoid pony's bridle and waiting calmly while attentive servants unfasten the Stallion from the beautiful little cabriolet, quickly wheeling it away for storage. Once that's done the Lady leads her handsome big Black Stallion right on in to the party! Xopuchmata is in her trademark flame colors, of course, although this time they seem to swirl about her slight and slinkily-skirted form like burning stripes, and her heart-shaped face is concealed by a beautifully detailed snarling tiger's mask. The mane of midnight hair that streams down to her waist appears to have flames swirling through it as well, flaring forth from her head and writhing amidst the dark, silken strands.
Clopping along next to the tiny Xopuchmata, the much taller and broader man looms like a dark shadow to her banked fiery passion. He had been mortified at seeing the outfit -- what little there was of it -- which she'd decreed he would wear at the ball, but he trusted her. He knew now she was right: he looked perfect. The more skin she'd bared on him after placing the mask on his head, the freer he'd felt within the safe parameters of His Lady's firmly guiding hands. By the time they make their dramatic entry to the party, Eacharn is deeply blissful inside the light leather harness, hooved mitts and tall leather horse-boots, flowing tail-plug, and elegant horse-head mask.
A wave of whispers precedes 'Chana and Eacharn's entrance into the grand ballroom. There are a few there that are quite aware of the former king's nature and of his proclivities -- he has been to a few of these balls, after all -- but the pair of them are striking in the extreme. The Lady pauses for an instant at the head of the stairs as she and her companion are announced, straightening proudly and glancing around with elegant languor. The slightest tightening on the leadrope causes her handsome Stallion to toss his head as he pauses, pawing the ground with the sharp chime of silver against marble -- and just as Xopuchmata expected, that draws every eye for an instant.
The elegant lady smiles lazily, slightly pointed teeth showing against her blood-red lower lip under the mask, and purrs calmingly to the big equine... then steps slowly down the stairs with him. The long silken fringe on her dress sways as mesmerizingly as her hips, and she smiles and greets well-wishers and admirers as they head in to the main celebration. The Lady Xopuchmata has slightly limited movement currently, since she's subtly making sure her Black Stallion is comfortable and relaxed before she does any dancing. She's mingling slowly, chatting graciously with guests and admiring the astonishing array of gorgeous costumes. She smiles wickedly as she notices the tall black rooster chatting with the breathless young fox lady.
Eacharn is well aware of how many eyes are on him and on his Lady, but he's proud to be shown off in such a way. Besides, the entire party is a feast for the senses; the lithe dancers are only one of the entertainments. One lovely woman is in a luscious bottle-green velvet dress with a plunging neckline and a slit in the side that completely bares one lovely hip. Her skin is pale gold, her hair honey-blonde, and it falls in natural curls so far that it almost brushes the ground behind her. She is circulating and talking with people; even without the four-inch heels she's well over six feet tall.
A small distance away, Chanticleer laughs warmly at Inari's reply, mischievously saying, "Indeed it is, and nurturing such a hunger can be quite enjoyable. But that can be quite an overpowering spice. It must be applied with a firm and sparing hand..." He looks up at the announcement of the Lady Xopuchmata's arrival, then blinks, his eyes widening a bit in surprise and admiration of Sulochana's and Eacharn's costumes.
Inari smiles and the tip of her tongue flicks out to dampen her bottom lip, "A firm hand is definitely to be desired." She also looks up at the ringing chime of silver on marble and smiles, "They are quite the striking couple. I was hearing someone say she actually had him pull a carriage for her." She shivers deliciously with the thought, "That must have been rather invigorating."
The tall woman pauses near Chanti and Inari and looks up at the stairs when 'Chana and Eacharn are announced. She murmurs as if to herself, "Such gorgeous tack! I wonder if she'll let me borrow him for my exhibition later..."
Chanticleer murmurs quietly to Inari, "Then a firm hand shall be... applied." Inari's comment about how the midnight drive of the Stallion must have been makes him grin quietly, "It almost certainly turned more than a few heads." At the tall woman's words he arches a brow, glancing toward her as he asks conversationally, "Do you mean the Stallion of the Lady Xopuchmata?"
The stunning blonde nods and smiles, "I've heard of the Lady Xopuchmata. I will definitely ask. Thank you for the name." She inclines her head to the two sidhe, then heads for Xopuchmata and her Stallion. Inari shifts to stand closer to Chanti as she watches the woman depart, murmuring in an almost awed voice, "I think that was Miriam!"
Chanticleer blinks a little, and murmurs questioningly to Inari, "Who is Miriam?"
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