[open] welcome to the masquerade

[implying]

Date & Time: Friday the 7th, 4pm to midnight.
Location: Palace of Versailles, France, 1772.
Characters: anyone! Even characters not yet accepted as of when this log goes up. 8)
Summary: It's just some fancy masquerade dance with spiked punch.
Warnings: here be pictures, slow connections beware.


Welcome to Versailles.

The decorations are arranged, the food is prepared and laid out, the music has been rehearsed, and... most people have their costumes and masks ready. At precisely 1600, the Transporter machine activates, and a full room of people and all of their decorations, food, musical instruments, and costumes are sent back to 1772. The Palace of Versailles is in the height of its splendor, the weather is perfect and cloudless, and the gardens are in full bloom for the spring.

➣ Explore the Palace

Holy shit look at this, you have the chance to get your grubby little fingers all over history before it even becomes properly history. Do you know how many famous butts sat in all these plush velvet chairs? Or are going to sit in these plush velvet chairs? And they were all probably just talking the hell out of French, too. Wow. Go invade some bedrooms, poke your head into the kitchens (but no more than that, or territorial cooking elves might take offense), just. Touch everything. Everything. Just know that where ever you are, there's no escaping that beautiful music your fellow Transports are inflicting on you, that shit's just echoing all over the place tonight.

➣ Admire the Gardens

Jeez look at this, these people just had way too much money. But you get to benefit from it! You can basically just get yourself lost for hours here, so try not to starve or anything. Meet all the statues, go streaking through the fountains (please don't, no one wants to see that), get lost and desperately burst through cute little trees in your increasingly frantic attempts to find the exit. There's all sorts of fun you can have!

Just don't wander too close to the edge of the grounds, or you'll encounter (run into?) the invisible forcefield set up to keep wandering guests from utterly ruining history. That's probably a good way to get yourself a bloody nose.

➣ Enjoy the Banquet

There's tables and tables of this finger-licking good finery here, and it's all for you. And can you believe how fancy it is? Oh my god, those sausages have adorable little spears through them. And those spoons gently cradling their cheesy goodness? Yeah. They're made of crackers. And don't even get me started on these desserts. This is amazing. You've never eaten this good. And naturally, each drink (some of which are spiked, you're welcome) has adorable little frozen flowers in the ice cubes. Who even comes up with this stuff? Elves, that's who.

[[ HEY LOOK: AN OVERFLOW LOG! You're not required to move your threads there, but you're welcome to, in case this entry is getting difficult to load for anyone! ]]

Comments

[allsongs]

[all warmth and acceptance, Simmaeri reaches for her arm to pull her over the rest of the way, her voice dipping down to a gentle tone, while still her words dragged with the melody she was so engrossed in.]

Will you? Dance. Come with me.

[fintastic]

Oh, Kanaya! You look nice!

[ To the inquiry, though, Feferi shakes her head. ]

No, I don't. I didn't think anyone would want a big mask like that! What do you need it for?

[breakablegirl]

[Cue too-loud giggle. She's too into the act to notice anything off with him yet.]

Nuh uh. I'm ahhhmazing at drinking.

[She hangs onto him.] Hey. Hey. We should go outside.

[firstroar]

NO–!

"No!"

A great pulse of energy surges from within, bubbling out and forcibly throwing the man away. For how close – how loud the sound remained, Blue's instincts drive it all from him to protect himself. He had felt the concern and disorientation of the other as palpably as his own, yet it did not register amid his lingering confusion.

Distance, though, clears his head faster than any comforting gesture that stranger has to offer; the glow dims again and he seems to shrink, though his elbows had lifted out of the dirt and he had better sat upon his knees, recollecting himself, finding his bearings.

Only then does he wholly see that stranger – wide, alarmed eyes locked on him, trying to discern this horrible sensation emanating from him.

[asskickersunite]

[Eddie sort of stands out in contrast to everyone else, in that he's still wearing his regular outfit. After all, Vanadi did ask him to help with security, so he is still armed and ready in case some transports get a little too drunk, or if the United Earth decided to suddenly launch an assault. He'll be ready, but that's not gonna stop him from occasionally hiting the buffet.]

[fe_male]

[ what does eating have to do with her dress

and hey escorting this is starting to feel positively normal again ]

So you don't seem as totally out of your element as half the attendees.

[theguideless]

[hastily, nodding:] Yes, I am. Thank you, I – [his head almost turns, on the verge of distraction, but he pulls back, remembering his manners.] Are you? Well, that is.

[hostage]

Yes! That sounds like a fantastic plan.

[Granted, pretty much everything sounds fantastic to him right now. He keeps his arm around Claire's waist, leading her out one of the glass doors toward the garden. Tweaking isn't like being drunk at all. He's very sure-footed and he feels stronger than usual. Whatever weight Claire's leaning onto him, it doesn't slow him down at all.]

[charming_jerk]

Thinkin' about grabbing my guitar and seein' if they'll let me--

[Oh hello there personal space invader. This takes Johnny by surprise, and he reflexively tries to pull back a bit.]

H-Hey, don't get ahead of yourself, buddy.

[fintastic]

I've never seen anyone like you around here! I like the horns though. The transporter is getting better taste in who it picks up!

[ And as an afterthought, ]

I'm Feferi! It's nice to meet you.

[kingside]

[He both is and isn't, for the record. Sort of. It's complicated. As for the teasing--]

Why? Are you feeling neglected?

[fintastic]

No, it's a... a...

[ Feferi just cracks up laughing before she can even finish her sentence, and her cheeks are flushed pink. ]

Try some!

[breakablegirl]

[Yep. She's just leaning. And leaning. But hey. She's tiny and she weighs like 100 pounds so. She's not much of a burden anyway. Claire's almost debating continuing to pretend to be drunk. She isn't sure why. Maybe because it's kind of fun.

But nah. She doesn't want him to think he has to take care of her or anything. So once they're a decent amount out the door and into the courtyard she straightens up, smirking.] I had to put on a show, sorry.

[kingside]

[... Okay, so he may just be staring blankly for a moment.]

I beg your pardon?

[fintastic]

[ She ponders this predicament for a moment, before she shakes her hand, and makes a gesture for him to lean in, being as short as she is. ]

Come here!

[mach_n_roll]

Huh?

[The hedgehog over from his balancing act on top of the ice sculpture and flashes a grin automatically before he hops down.]

Oh, hey! Hahah, wow, guess my reputation precedes me n' stuff! Most people don't even get the species right! You sure seem to know me, but I don't remember were we'd met... Are we from the same world or something?

[Humans are a Thing that Happens in his world, so it's possible she'd know of him if she were. Especially since fate has handed him his own minor celebrity status there. But most humans in his world made of safety foam, while she seems to be made of razorblades and titanium. It's kind of cool, actually.]

[hostage]

[He gives a little jump of surprise when she's suddenly sober. Then he bursts out laughing, looking back towards the building.]

What - oh. Oh, duh! The whole... yeah.

[Her metabolism. He knew that. From comics.]

[strategic_guile]

[He lets Johnny pull back and pauses.] That's the next step, since you have the basics down.

[His lip quirks a bit.] Not ready for that, then.

[alwaysforhim]

[He laughs a little, mildly embarrassed but definitely agreeing.]

They're, ah-- they're quite fine, yes. Although it's a bit disconcerting-- I keep thinking I'm a servant here and that my lord Arthur is going to be yelling at me to serve something soon. I've never been a guest before.

[sharpe]

[ Sharpe doesn't know how far Versailles is from Normandy, and he doesn't exactly care. He's never been real fond of the French. Frogs, all of them, and he's been fighting a war against them for over ten years. Lucille's French, but she's different from all of them, and rarely does Sharpe's mind tar her with the same brush. In any case, he doubts that this is the same France as the one he knows. Napoleon has raised so many wars. Richard himself has been to London, even been in the audience of the Prince Regent, and he can see the ravages that war costs on the people.

Though, what the hell does he know about France anyway? Lucille's farm is like any other farm, except it has more sun than Yorkshire ever seems to.

Sharpe walks down the gardens, deeply aware of the heavy sound of his boots, of the mud that splatters whenever he takes a single step. The heavy brown coat that streaks dirt on the glossy floors. The horse is gone and Sharpe has already tried to rage about it. He knows he is here for another war and he cannot find the energy for anger; he can only shift his Baker rifle further up his shoulder, the gun a comforting weight. He's found his shako amongst his pack and he wears it now, a threadbare and terrible replacement for a mask.

He looks like a threadbare, poor soldiers amongst peacocks. Sharpe smiles to himself. Really, there isn't much of a difference between this place and London, in that case.

He hopes he doesn't break anything. There's money in the card, the broad said, but Sharpe doesn't trust money he can't see with his own eyes and test with his teeth. And he'd rather not be in debt already. ]

[hostage]

Uh...

[Isn't it obvious?]

[speakveryclearly]

[Kanaya frowns.]

I met a girl who didn't have a proper one. She was wearing a full facemask already, but clearly utilitarian and not aesthetic. I think she might have some kind of disfigurement, actually.

[deadelfwalking]

[Koltira massages his temples, though it's hardly helpful.]

Aye. That they are. [half-smile.] I imagine the alcohol has as much to do with it as all this splendor, though.

[shoesfitperfectly]

A grin crosses his face. "I think I can do that," he answers. Holding his arm out toward her, he steps in the direction of the dance floor. "Shall we?"

richard sharpe | in the gardens | with anyone

[sharpe]

[ Sharpe doesn't know how far Versailles is from Normandy, and he doesn't exactly care. He's never been real fond of the French. Frogs, all of them, and he's been fighting a war against them for over ten years. Lucille's French, but she's different from all of them, and rarely does Sharpe's mind tar her with the same brush. In any case, he doubts that this is the same France as the one he knows. Napoleon has raised so many wars. Richard himself has been to London, even been in the audience of the Prince Regent, and he can see the ravages that war costs on the people.

Though, what the hell does he know about France anyway? Lucille's farm is like any other farm, except it has more sun than Yorkshire ever seems to.

Sharpe walks down the gardens, deeply aware of the heavy sound of his boots, of the mud that splatters whenever he takes a single step. The heavy brown coat that streaks dirt on the glossy floors. The horse is gone and Sharpe has already tried to rage about it. He knows he is here for another war and he cannot find the energy for anger; he can only shift his Baker rifle further up his shoulder, the gun a comforting weight. He's found his shako amongst his pack and he wears it now, a threadbare and terrible replacement for a mask.

He looks like a poor, ragged soldier amongst peacocks. Sharpe smiles to himself. Really, there isn't much of a difference between this place and London, in the end.

He hopes he doesn't break anything. There's money in the card, the broad said, but Sharpe doesn't trust money he can't see with his own eyes and test with his teeth. And he'd rather not be in debt already. ]