Sam Underhill on Nov 28, 2013 wrote:

"I've not enjoyed myself like that for quite some time," Magdelena told Sam when she found him sitting in the foyer of the Museo di Libri. She had a healthy looking shine to her that Sam had never seen before. But the blonde girl had been quite right - he wasn't in love. He deeply respected the Unicorn and treasured her abilities, but as for love - no. Speaking of the girl...

"Where did she go?" Once again, the human minx had vanished.

"Who?"

"Oh, never mind. Did you know about the tunnels below this place?"

"Of course, that is the underground or catacombs. Only the desperate or insane go down there. It is very dangerous. You don't propose to traverse them, do you?"

"It's just nice to have options. Is your party over?"

"Gracious, no. But I noticed you weren't there, so I came to find you." She sat next to Sam and put on a pretty pout. "I missed you."

Only Sam's reflexes prevented the knife from actually hitting Magdelena. He caught it against his sleeve rebounding it into the wall. He raced up and quickly ran to the corner it had been thrown around. All Sam saw was a crowd of partygoers chatting amongst themselves, no one moving out of character. He returned to Magdelena, who was examining the knife curiously.

"This is so dull it could hardly cut toast," she commented. "I would have a pretty bruise if not for you, but harm me, I think not." She handed it hilt first to Sam and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, if this had been real..." she gave an involuntary shudder.

The weapon itself was unadorned. No crest, no jewels, the type you could buy a dozen for a single gold piece in any market. "Well, someone just warned me off against going to the Ball, and now it seems they don't want you to attend either. Your boyfriend? Some anti-Resistance group? Or just book haters?"

"Michaelangelo would never harm me," she mused, then catching herself, "not physically, anyway." Their eyes met, and she confided. "All right, fine. He is an agent, and I am... fond of him. I'm sorry to have led you on."

"He's quite lucky to have you care for him," Sam told her, and meant it. "However, someone is still unhappy with us. Any ideas?"

"Far too many. We can start with the entire Council, the Doge's agents, book haters..." They laughed together breaking the tension. "This Ball can't come and end soon enough. Next time I am simply coming as a guest to enjoy myself. I shall leave the plotting to others."

"Right, and pigs can fly," Sam retorted.

"Actually in Mooshu, it is reported that there is a Valley of Flying Pigs. Mind you, no one has ever substantiated such a story."

Sam laughed. "Fine. You're not hurt, but I suggest it is time to leave this place."

"You do not hate me?" Large, puppy-dog eyes accompanied this query.

"No, actually I'm relieved. Being the girlfriend of a pirate would not suit you." He smiled to show it was meant in teasing, although privately he thought it perfectly true.

"The next thing we must do," Magdelena informed Sam, "is to finish donning our attire. The pair managed to find rooms in the Museo to complete their wardrobe. Sam still kept the lion's head in his arms as it was hot inside under the mane. "Bene," Magdelena nodded when she saw Sam emerge. Her outfit of black feathers did indeed resemble a Raven, while emphasizing her womanly charms.

When they headed outside, the setting sun told them it was past time to head for the Palace of the Doge. Carriages parted the dense crowds as they maneuvered to reach the gates. After alighting, the wealthy flaunted themselves shamelessly before proceeding to climb the long stairs to the main entrance. By the time our pair had reached the gate most of the self-important citizens had already passed through.

Magdelena produced an invitation which ushered them past the guards and on their way. Sam marveled as he saw the intricate workmanship that had been put into the Palace. Carvings of gargoyles, trees, and various animals adorned the outside walls. Even the stairs themselves had bas relief scenes carved into the stone. On reaching the top they joined a short queue waiting to enter. Sam finally put the head on and patiently allowed himself to be led.

"Magdelena Vendelino and Samuel Throckmorton," the major domo announced. Taking a deep breath, Sam found himself shaking hands with an aristocratic Unicorn of late middle age, white hairs overtaking the silver of his mane. The Doge was dressed elegantly in a handsome, if old-fashioned, Valencian fashion which displayed well a portable fortune in jewels.

"Signore Throckmorton," the Doge addressed Sam, "I do trust your Uncle is in fine health after his... accident?"

"Indeed yes, Your Eminence," Sam replied. "He sends along his warmest regards."

The Doge smiled politely. Sam felt his hand now shaken vigorously by the youthful Unicorn beside him. Sam racked his memory and realized this must be the Doge's son, Orlando. He was darker of complexion and bore a sunny innocence that was a startling contrast to his harsh-faced father. "So glad you could come," the younger Unicorn began formally, then broke into a grin. "I hope I get to talk to you later. Humans are so interesting. My favorite professor is human, in fact," he added artlessly.

"Come along, dear," Magdelena dragged Sam away to what must be the largest hall he had ever seen. Sam could see something of a banquet hall set in an adjoining garden, and he immediately thought of food. He started to make for the banquet, but found himself caught by the arm.

"Not yet, mia cara. First is the expected entertainment, then the food, then the dancing. And if you wish to dance with other girls, I really won't mind." She smiled sweetly at him, but signaled with her fan warningly, 'Careful, we are being overheard.'

"As if I could dance with anyone but you, my pudding," Sam replied, manfully attempting to flirt. Magdelena winced, but smiled back bravely.

CdeWinter on Dec 29, 2013 wrote:

Scarlet immediatly saw Graziella's mistake, hiding behind an open door was a common trick for most pirates.
But, Scarlet was already firmly set in her role of portraying Isabella, and knew she shouldn't do anything too piratical, besides she was currently only carrying a long knife hidden in her dress.

Instead, Scarlet simply stepped to the side and leaned slowly on the door, gently pressing it backwards and quietly trapping anybody who may be hiding behind it.

Meanwhile...

Upon seeing Maestra Lia, Anne impulsively rushed up and hugged her. The professor gave a light laugh of surprise at the gesture of affection. "I thank you, 'Violetta', but you must not muss your finery," she commented playfully, momentarily looking much like her old self.

"I am so sorry that you had to endure so much for our sake," Alcina Vinaldi said gravely.

Lia's face grew swiftly somber again with memory, but shook her head. "It did not last long, and could have been very much worse. And none of this was your fault or even mine. The Armada soldiers who arrested me did not truly think I was a member of the Resistance." She gave a short, bitter laugh. "I am sure the questioning I... received would have been much less haphazard had they genuinely suspected. No, I believe the Armada arrested me to make a point - a preventative, to cow any potential free thinkers."

"They made their point, but not to the desired effect. I had only joined the Resistance recently. I had long fretted over whether doing so would make me a traitor to my beloved adopted country of Valencia. I took comfort in reflecting that my role would be very small. I am no politician, no banker, no warrior. But now I am fully convinced of the rightness of the Resistance, to put a stop to the Armada, which spreads like a canker-blossom on the rose of Valencia. Now I only wish my role could be greater," Lia finished with a little sigh.

Alcina's grave expression melted into a gentle smile. "When a play goes forth, the success of the actors and dancers requires the work of their costumers, stage hands, carpenters, directors -- the work of many people not seen. You have helped these young ladies - and the young gentleman who no serves as footman - to make them ready. And I believe they are."

Alcina and Lia looked approvingly at the girls. All of them sat very erect and moved gracefully as if they had worn elegant gowns all of their young lives. Scarlet, aka 'Isabella', had slipped out after Graziella and Chrissy with a murmured excuse, but that tall young woman had looked very fine indeed, clad in a cream silk brocade with floral patterns in green and persimmon, the background of the silk matching exactly the color of her precious peregrine falcon mask. Like most formal gowns, Scarlet's gown was open to show a matching petticoat of the same silk, the side openings and the petticoat being adorned with self-fabric rouched trim and a matching bottom flounce on the petticoat. Deep green silk ribbons at the bottom of the 3/4-length sleeves before its flounces showed an elegant contrast, matching the green silk stomacher in front. Green silk fingerless mitts peeped out beneath a double frill of fine linen sleeve ruffles, themselves adorned with white-work embroidery...

Anne Radcliffe on Dec 31, 2013 wrote:

Meanwhile...

Upon seeing Maestra Lia, Anne impulsively rushed up and hugged her. The professor gave a light laugh of surprise at the gesture of affection. "I thank you, 'Violetta', but you must not muss your finery," she commented playfully, momentarily looking much like her old self.

"I am so sorry that you had to endure so much for our sake," Alcina Vinaldi said gravely.

Lia's face grew swiftly somber again with memory, but shook her head. "It did not last long, and could have been very much worse. And none of this was your fault or even mine. The Armada soldiers who arrested me did not truly think I was a member of the Resistance." She gave a short, bitter laugh. "I am sure the questioning I... received would have been much less haphazard had they genuinely suspected. No, I believe the Armada arrested me to make a point - a preventative, to cow any potential free thinkers."

"They made their point, but not to the desired effect. I had only joined the Resistance recently. I had long fretted over whether doing so would make me a traitor to my beloved adopted country of Valencia. I took comfort in reflecting that my role would be very small. I am no politician, no banker, no warrior. But now I am fully convinced of the rightness of the Resistance, to put a stop to the Armada, which spreads like a canker-blossom on the rose of Valencia. Now I only wish my role could be greater," Lia finished with a little sigh.

Alcina's grave expression melted into a gentle smile. "When a play goes forth, the success of the actors and dancers requires the work of their costumers, stage hands, carpenters, directors -- the work of many people not seen. You have helped these young ladies - and the young gentleman who no serves as footman - to make them ready. And I believe they are."

Alcina and Lia looked approvingly at the girls. All of them sat very erect and moved gracefully as if they had worn elegant gowns all of their young lives. Scarlet, aka 'Isabella', had slipped out after Graziella and Chrissy with a murmured excuse, but that tall young woman had looked very fine indeed, clad in a cream silk brocade with floral patterns in green and persimmon, the background of the silk matching exactly the color of her precious peregrine falcon mask. Like most formal gowns, Scarlet's gown was open to show a matching petticoat of the same silk, the side openings and the petticoat being adorned with self-fabric rouched trim and a matching bottom flounce on the petticoat. Deep green silk ribbons at the bottom of the 3/4-length sleeves before its flounces showed an elegant contrast, matching the green silk stomacher in front. Green silk fingerless mitts peeped out beneath a double frill of fine linen sleeve ruffles, themselves adorned with white-work embroidery...

(Yep, you are right, Elizabeth. Soon you all will be arriving at the ball. But first, description of the gowns. 'Cause what's the fun of a ball without beautiful period gowns, that's what I think!)

... Emma's (aka 'Kara') blonde looks were set off dramatically by her gown of gold silk, trimmed with touches of black and red. The scooped neckline of the gold silk revealed a narrow edge of black bobbin lace, and the tight sleeves ending just below the elbow had a deep frill of black lace instead of the usual self-fabric ruffle over the fine white linen sleeve ruffles. Emma, who had not usually the need to deal with such things, had been aghast at the costliness of the wide lace pieces, which had required days of work for the bobbin lace maker. The Duchessa had laughed off the expense, saying it was not nearly as much as needle lace edgings, and just hoped it would survive any adventures at the ball intact, so Emma could save it as a keepsake. The front of the gold silk gown was fastened by a matching stomacher embroidered with red roses and black arabesques, and the skirts of the gown were open to display a contrasting petticoat of black silk with black silk ruffles. Around her neck she wore a simple black velvet ribbon decorated with a red ribbon rose, and red roses with black and green silk leaves nestled in her upswept hair. Emma also wore gold silk fingerless mitts, mitts that were far more sturdy than they appeared as they hid the claws she had devised as a concealed weapon. [And Emma may also have more weapons concealed in her petticoats or simply carried in her pockets held under the petticoats or... I know she likes to have something of an arsenal on her person]

The Duchessa and Maestra Lia gazed approvingly at Lizzie, aka 'Mariella'. Lizzy had grasped Mariella's rather fluffy-headed mannerisms perfectly, and even though the girls did not look alike, her manner would be completely convincing to all save those who knew Mariella well. But they weren't worried about the friends of the Vinaldi girls being present to ruin the pose. People younger than Isabella or Kara were not usually invited to the grand formal entertainments of the Doge. Yes, there would be masked balls everywhere in Padova tonight in imitation of the Doge's at all levels of society, so that the youthful friends of the Vinaldi girls and even their servants would be dancing and socializing in a whirl of excitement and color. But invitations to the Doge's Masked Ball were generally reserved for the most wealthy and powerful, or potentially important strangers the Doge particularly wished to impress. Outwardly, it had been quite an honor to have all the Vinaldi children invited to this grand event...

The Undead Obeah on Jan 2, 2014 wrote:

"Wait, what?" Cried Maria "What music book? Omar, any ideas?"
"Finally! Something I know something about! I'm afraid, Dona Graziella, that the certain codex you seek has been missing since this morning. However, before finding out who did it, I am curious as to why you have such a dangerous book, especially here of all places. Hobbes, what do you think? Hobbes? Hobbes! Oh brother."
Omar rolled his eyes when he spotted Scarlet's look on her face. He then raised his boney left hand and snapped his fingers. There was a yelp behind the door and soon a hole appeared over his head and Alexanro Fonte fell out and nearly crashed onto Omar had he scampered out of the was and somehow ended up upside down in front of Chrissy.
"You know, from this vantage point, you remind me of a of a young girl from some town in Skull Island. Or was it Hammimitsu?"

Chrissy was becoming more and more confused at the change of events and was beginning to suspect that the danger was not as great as her 'knowings' felt since they just made her aware of witchcraft, not it's total intent. Yet she still did not trust what was going on and steadfastly continued with her protection covering over those she cared about. It was getting really hard to keep it strong since The Donna had placed herself so close to them but that was offset by Omar's collecting of them and cutting off of some of the deception going on.
When Omar snapped his fingers she nearly laughed at the startled look on Scarlet's face as the door she was leaning on suddenly gave way and Scarlet's great grace and balance was the only thing that kept her from landing on her highly petticoated tush.
When Alexanros landed at her feet she was nearly upset by the deception wave that traveled with him. She heard Omar call him Hobbs and understood who this must be inside. She looked down at him and decided to stay in character even though she had a history with Hobbs. "Do I know you?" she inquired? "I have worked for the most prestigious families in the spiral and have been to many skyways so you may have seen me at my duties, but You sir, I have not had the pleasure of meeting." Knowing full well that if Hobbs wanted any information from them he would have to shed his disguise or be forced to stay in character and thus out of the loop in this adventure.

Anne Radcliffe on Jan 2, 2014 wrote:

(Yep, you are right, Elizabeth. Soon you all will be arriving at the ball. But first, description of the gowns. 'Cause what's the fun of a ball without beautiful period gowns, that's what I think!)

... Emma's (aka 'Kara') blonde looks were set off dramatically by her gown of gold silk, trimmed with touches of black and red. The scooped neckline of the gold silk revealed a narrow edge of black bobbin lace, and the tight sleeves ending just below the elbow had a deep frill of black lace instead of the usual self-fabric ruffle over the fine white linen sleeve ruffles. Emma, who had not usually the need to deal with such things, had been aghast at the costliness of the wide lace pieces, which had required days of work for the bobbin lace maker. The Duchessa had laughed off the expense, saying it was not nearly as much as needle lace edgings, and just hoped it would survive any adventures at the ball intact, so Emma could save it as a keepsake. The front of the gold silk gown was fastened by a matching stomacher embroidered with red roses and black arabesques, and the skirts of the gown were open to display a contrasting petticoat of black silk with black silk ruffles. Around her neck she wore a simple black velvet ribbon decorated with a red ribbon rose, and red roses with black and green silk leaves nestled in her upswept hair. Emma also wore gold silk fingerless mitts, mitts that were far more sturdy than they appeared as they hid the claws she had devised as a concealed weapon. [And Emma may also have more weapons concealed in her petticoats or simply carried in her pockets held under the petticoats or... I know she likes to have something of an arsenal on her person]

The Duchessa and Maestra Lia gazed approvingly at Lizzie, aka 'Mariella'. Lizzy had grasped Mariella's rather fluffy-headed mannerisms perfectly, and even though the girls did not look alike, her manner would be completely convincing to all save those who knew Mariella well. But they weren't worried about the friends of the Vinaldi girls being present to ruin the pose. People younger than Isabella or Kara were not usually invited to the grand formal entertainments of the Doge. Yes, there would be masked balls everywhere in Padova tonight in imitation of the Doge's at all levels of society, so that the youthful friends of the Vinaldi girls and even their servants would be dancing and socializing in a whirl of excitement and color. But invitations to the Doge's Masked Ball were generally reserved for the most wealthy and powerful, or potentially important strangers the Doge particularly wished to impress. Outwardly, it had been quite an honor to have all the Vinaldi children invited to this grand event...

(back downstairs again!)

In contrast to the more dramatic colors and fabrics of their 'older sisters', Lizzy and Anne were wearing the pale colors considered most suitable for young girls. However, since Mariella was 13, a time when girls began wearing fully adult styles, Lizzy was able to wear a gown quite as elaborate as 'Kara's and 'Isabella's, her gown and accessories a fantasy of white. Her gown of white silk damask was complemented by white wide silk taffeta ribbons that fastened her white satin stomacher, the same ribbons adorning the tight sleeves as they ended below the elbow, white ribbons also artfully gathering up the gown's skirts a la polonaise on the back sides, to reveal a matching outer petticoat of white damask. White cut velvet dancing shoes, a white wolf mask, white knitted lace mitts of the finest wool, white flowers in her upswept blonde hair, and of course, double sleeve ruffles of very fine white linen gave the vision of her as a snow princess. A restrained but dazzling contrast in color was provided only by emerald glass beads as the centers of the silk flowers and in the picot edge of her mitts. Elizabeth had learned that Valencia was known for the finest production of glass in the Spiral (especially according to the Valencians), and such glass was highly prized.

Anne, as 11 year old Violetta, had been secretly disappointed to learn that she would not be 'old enough' for the front lacing gowns of her 'sisters', and so wore a child's back-laced gown that was correspondingly much plainer than those of the 'older' girls. Still, when she discovered the gown made for her, she could not help but be pleased. The gown was of a very pale lilac silk 'changeable' taffeta that shimmered silver or lilac as the light struck it. The bodice front was plain, but sweetly adorned by a knot of purple velvet violets at the center of the low scooped neckline. Small bows of a narrow purple silk ribbon peeped out at the end of her sleeves, drawing attention to a deep frill of bobbin lace, similar to Emma's but white, that puffed over the sleeve ruffles (Anne was very pleased - she loved lace!). Silk brocade of violet, white, and silver comprised her pretty dancing shoes, which matched her violet and silver Butterfly mask. Purple velvet violets adorned her hair, which had been drawn back into a soft bun, and though she still wore the little gold beads that she always wore as a lasting memento of her parents, those little braids had been drawn up into the hairstyle and lay against her head.

Like Scarlet, Anne bore few weapons. There was the practical long knife strapped to her leg, but the other blades were too small to be effective weapons: a tiny leaf bade slipped in the point of the V of the back of her laced bodice and a tiny stiletto with a purple glass head winking among the violets in her hair. Those accessories were more for getting out of a tight situation, perhaps. Catbeard had been teaching her how to pick locks...

Sam Underhill on Dec 22, 2013 wrote:

The young human blonde girl with apparently no name stood demurely before a grand oak desk. Her hands were clasped respectfully behind her back and her head was lowered submissively as her report was regarded by her employer. "I do not pay you for opinions, young lady, I desire only facts from you." From behind the desk the voice was soft, though authoritative.

"I can only give you my observations and surmizes, your Eminence," she responded. "I believe this pirate can be counted on to behave in such a way as I reported, that is to say, he will do practically anything to hurt the Armada."

"Hmmm... perhaps that is all to the well and good. This Throckmorton and his librarian suspect nothing?"

"No, you Eminence."

"Very well, continue your surveillance and shepherd them as directed. That is all."

And with that pronouncement, the girl was dismissed. She bowed low and backed out of the chamber. How she had gotten herself into this situation we may never know, but for now she was stuck doing as she was told if she wished to eat and sleep somewhere besides the gutter. Now for the first time in her short life she was feeling pangs of conscience. Throwing a knife at that Unicorn lady had felt... wrong somehow. Besides it was her head that would be the first on the chopping block if something unplanned occured. But she had made contingency plans to bail long before that happened. She could stow away on one of the many ships docked for the party - there was no way they could all be searched, particularly for someone as relatively unimportant as her. Not with Duca Vinaldi still absent. She stopped off at the kitchens to snag some cheese and bread before returning the the streets of Padova.

It was a pity she would probably have to leave the city soon, she really quite liked it. So full of history and hidden places and people. But her intuition told her that her remaining time here was not long, and she wished to leave on her own terms, rather than in a box.

The kitchens at the Palace of the Doge were a beehive of activity; for not only was the regular staff in attendance, but hirelings galore bustled about carting food and drink out to the banquet tents. The more decoratively attired were entrusted with trays of sweets and yum'n'nade to offer amongst the crowds, the stronger ones to lug up the gallons upon gallons of drink, while others remained behind gathering, stirring, dishing, and any number of necessary (and unnecessary) tasks that needed doing.

At the center of this maelstrom stood a short, round Guinea Pig; Georges - Master Chef of the Palace and creator of the feast. His direction giving of the ensemble made an overall kind of sense, as this was his moment - any fault found would land upon his head.

One of his subordinates was a pastry chef named Rosie. She was one of the rare Deer that made their way to civilization. She kept all her cooks and servants hopping, keeping a gimlet eye out for anyone not pulling their weight. One such slacker was a Wharf Rat known only as Pace. Such was his ill luck that just as he had stuffed a chocolate covered cherry in his mouth with one hand, and nabbed a strawberry/yum tartlet with the other, he was caught red-handed by a rather short tempered Rosie. So off he was sent to the cellars to fetch another bag of sugar. This actually didn't bother him unduly as it meant he could take his time - maybe even squeeze in a short nap, for he was sure no one would miss him until after the show was over.

The cellars were an unpopular place amongst the servants. Generations of stories had the place littered with evil haunts and walking undead, not to mention still living thieves and other scum. But Pace went whistling down the stairs as if freed from any further heavy labor for the evening. He had taken a candle to light his way and found the sub-pantry door quickly enough. As he reached for the handle something gave him pause - were those voices he heard inside? Probably just some other layabouts like himself he decided. So he threw open the door expecting to join in a friendly game of cards.

The door opened. The voices stopped. Pace stopped. Then his head exploded in a rainbow shower of light before he pitched forward onto the hard floor. A large lump started growing on the back of his head.

"Wasn't someone supposed to be guarding that door?" an angry voice asked no one in particular.

"Sorry, guv'nor," apologized a seedy looking Cat, pocketing a short club. "Just lookin' 'bout fer somewhat to eat, y'know."

---

Rosie looked about for the bag of sugar she had sent for - oh, it must be a half hour or more ago. Where was that boy? The work had slowed down to where she decided she had time to go and grab it herself. Taking a lantern, she headed for the cellars...

totallyawesomepira... on Jan 6, 2014 wrote:

Like Alura; I know it's way too late to be asking this, but may I saunter in as another character? Please?? (Gives puppy dog eyes)

I had two ideas:

1. A girl that works as a spy (to some degree) for the Armada. She can fairly accurately throw a knife, and can fight with a dagger, but besides that; doesn't really know how to defend herself, and wouldn't stand a chance in a fight between one of these pros. However, she relies (a little too much) on her dodging skills and quick getaways to survive.

2. My character! Her name's Emma, but I'd be willing to change it to minimize confusion. She is a Swashbuckler, and generally likable, but don't get her mad. (or be The Armada on that note, lol) She's got several weaknesses, but the one I'd think would be most interesting for this roleplay would be that she gets migraines. (regularly occurring headaches that feel like someone started a fire in your skull) When the Pirate gets one, she can not focus on fighting, sneaking, eavesdropping, or anything else for that matter. She gets them most often when she's around a lot of people and there's a lot of energy in the air. Hmm, the Ball will have a lot of people....

If you think that there are already too many people in this 'play, I won't be offended, trust me.

...

And no, I'm not using reverse psychology to make you let me join, 'cause, like, who does that anymore? *laughs nervously*

What is reverse psychology?

pirate101 lover on Jan 7, 2014 wrote:

What is reverse psychology?

Reverse psychology is simply when you try to get sombody to do what you want, by asking them the opposit.
For example, when I was still at home (and often when I go back to visit) my mother would ask be to empty the rubbish bin in the kitchen by announcing loudly that if I was too busy, she would gladly empty the rubbish for me.

Highlander Fox of ... on Jan 7, 2014 wrote:

(OOC: Emma has... Quite the lot of weapons. )

Emma was simply thankful that the various miniature knives and pistols she concealed weren't visible at all to anyone, even who was closely paying attention. Her claws- for which she had been devising plan for months or longer- were concealed in the metal bracelets she always averagely kept concealed beneath gloves or sleeves were thankfully still hidden. They were easy to hide or disguise- if the coding and switches were under fabric of some form, then they could easily be interpreted as simple ornaments to her several outfits. She always somehow managed to keep her arsenal (or somewhat of one) to concealable measures. Emma Everhart was no idiot.

She adjusted her dirty blonde tresses, which she had experimented with for hours to manage some decent and beautiful corkscrew curls, held up by a few rose-like pins. She felt as beautiful as she looked- something she was never too familiar with, due to her constant unusual armor sets or things from separate worlds- and besides the grey mini-skirt she'd wear over black shorts to add detail to her typical monochromatic ensemble that paired well with her mauve, bone-structured claws fused with a sort of laser of the same color. She never removed her iron wrist braces. Never.

The blonde redirected her focus from the idea of her dress and simply partook in the buzz of activity as casually as she'd imagine Kara would. Culinary artworks were being served and passed around, and though Emma told herself she could do way better than the overly ostentatious treats, she still was as appreciative as she could be there. Despite her... Insecurities around others recently, she tried to be as calm as possible, though usually lingering by Scarlet, Elizabeth, Anne or maybe Chrissy. She hadn't seen Jack in a while around here, though, she realized. She knew Jack, and concluded he was fine, though, not paying a second worry to the matter at all. She figured it might be suspicious if she hung around by him anyway, so she remained by her 'sisters.'

(Sorry for my absence... If anything seems weird here, I apologize as I have yet to completely catch up.)

Nothing is weird at all dear little sister. All have been busy and things had really slowed down so the flow is perfect.

Anne Radcliffe on Jan 6, 2014 wrote:

Sure, hop on in Emma. As to your suggestions, let me see...

1. A character working for the enemy is an interesting twist. You could take over the 'girl with apparently no name' invented by Sam on this thread, whose motives and employers are mysterious (but not exactly sympathetic to young Sam, perhaps). Or you could create your own. You might be working for Armada-friendly folks because: (a) they pay well, and you need the money, (b) You are a loyal Valencian and think the Armada is the best thing since the invention of sliced bread [which if we are 18th C.-ish actually hasn't happened yet, but I digress], (c) your employers have some sort of hold over you (such as they own that shabby hovel you and your family live in) (d) some family member got fatally tangled up with Valencian politics and you blame the Resistance... you get the picture. There are a lot of reasons why a sympathetic character could be on the wrong side.

2. Bringing in Emma is just fine (you will just need to give her an appellation that distinguishes her from Highlander Fox' Emma). I do like the idea of a flaw such as severe migraines that might be triggered by events in the story (I think Chrissy would be very sympathetic, too!). Mind you, I don't know what exactly is going to happen -- I have a couple plots worked out, but it depends on what the other players do and threads they bring in.

The Doge's ball is by invitation, and it is an exclusive guest list, but guests bring their servants. You could playing a high-ranking servant like Chrissy is, brought in by one of those guests, or you could have infiltrated the kitchen staff (for a grand affair like this, the Doge's cooks surely hired outside workers). You could, like Quentin, belong to a prominent family and acquire invitations in your own right (though if so, you will probably be 'noticed' so covert work would be harder).

So, why is Emma at the ball? Well, it is a scene ripe for intrigue, so there could be all sorts of things happening. The plot against the Vinaldis is supposed to be a big secret (really!) so it is unlikely you know about that, though you also might have been made aware that there might be some plot afoot against the elderly Council member, Beatrice. Something is going on with the 'Court of Miracles' [Omar] and operatives of that mysterious society will be at the Ball. And I am sure the Doge will be of central interest. Perhaps some are trying to impress the Doge or boost his power? Or maybe there are those who wish to see him removed - perhaps, as they say, permanently? Certainly, the Doge's attention will be occupied at the Ball, and that might be just the chance the Resistance needs. Perhaps there are prisoners in the dungeons beneath the grand ducal palace? Perhaps there are important papers in the Doge's office that need to be removed or discovered?... Whatever you choose, I'll try to work it into the storyline as best as I can.

OOC: Couldn't decide which one to do, so I'll do both! However, Claire will act like Emma, and her twin? You'll find out soon enough.

Claire

Clarabelle Hawkins, or Claire, stared at the Doge's Palace with her arms crossed. 3 stories up, and 2 windows to the left was her target. Claire smiled, for in that room a legend of a document was rumored to have the directions to 2 pieces of the Map. Such information would surely win the Resistance the war, or at least give them a tremendous advantage. However, rumours in Valencia were usually just that - rumours. But rumours were almost always based on truth, so even if there weren't directions, there was certain to be something useful there. All Claire needed to do was scale the Palace's wall, slink into the room, snatch the paper, and get back down again. It all seemed so easy...

But there was always the bump in the road.

And it was marching past her that very moment.

Claire scowled inwardly at the Armada Troops as they passed, oh, how she hated them! She hated them for the hundreds of children across the Spiral they had orphaned; she hated them for the countless "incidents" and "disappearances" they had caused; but most of all, she one reason she loathed the Armada a million, no, a trillion miles in all directions and back, was because they had changed her sister.

Claire remembered the day as clearly as if she were there herself. (which is not unusual as Claire has a photographic memory) It was the eve of her's and Cassandra's 12th birthday. Both girls were excited as tomorrow they would reach the required age to go on missions for the Resistance that were labeled, "dangerous." (OOC: A custom I just made up, hope ya don't mind) Cassandra had ripped her dress a few weeks ago, and went out to a tailor with her dress, and a written message for a certain Unicorn, who happened to be a member of the Resistance.

Claire didn't know exactly what happened, but from what she gathered from people present at the time she figured that Cassandra was walking on the sidewalk, tripped, and the message she was holding fell out of her hand, and stopped at the feet of an Armada Officer.

Obviously, Cassandra was arrested for traitorism, and taken in for "Excessive Questioning."

Claire had no idea what they did to her in there, but she remembered that her 12th birthday wasn't nearly as exciting without Cassandra.

But then there was The Truce.

Cassandra & Claire happened, purely by coincidence, to be walking down the same road at the same time. They stood about a foot away from the other, and their eyes were cold. Finally, Claire broke the silence.

"So, I s'pose we're enemies then."

OOC: I'll put more info on The Truce later, but I ran out of room. I'll be tracking both girls, and you can tell by which name is at the top. And Anne, my idea is that Cass is told by the Armada to attend the Ball, arrest anyone one who is suspected as a member of the Resistance, and retrieve that document as well. Hope that that helps! :)

The Undead Obeah on Jan 9, 2014 wrote:

Maria was helping up Fonte while Omar heard Gaziella's story.
"Ahh, that explains the book. I'm afraid that I haven't the foggiest as to the book, but I do know a thing or two about the plan between the Vinaldis and the… well you know the gig."
ALexandros got back onto his hooves before answering to Chrissy:
"I'm afraid, Mademoiselle, that we have not. At least, in this guise. My name is Alexandros Fonte, but better known as Nimble Alexander Hobbes, The Jesting Lord and an "ambassador" between the Court of Miracles and the Pirate Republic of Capt. Avery, as are my friends, The Hoodoo Queen and the Undead Obeah.
"True," replied the Unicorn madame with a theatrical flair " My name is Maria Laverne, the Hoodoo Queen and diviner, conjurer, and potions expert."
Omar was studying the mirror Maria stood at and was astounded at what he saw. Not only did he see himself as the witchdoctor from Skull island, but also noticed Chrissy's reflection. When Omar turned around, he was wearing a large grin, his eyes cracking purple and the bones of his left hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"Well," spoke Omar playfully "of all the places to meet ye, this takes the cake. The name is Impish Omar Underwood, The Undead Obeah at yer service. but you of all folks should realize that…Chrissy."

Chrissy's eyes went wide with fright. What could he be talking about she thought in panic. Omar saw the terror in her eyes and said "Perhaps a bit of an explanation might help. I put a spell on that mirror so that it would show me all truth and it has reflected back to me something I never suspected. Let me guess Fair Chrissy, have you always had a 'knowing' when it came to magic? I would suspect that you can do a bit of magic but you have no idea why or how you know. Does this sound familiar?" Chrissy was shocked to hear him describe exactly how she functioned in her mysterious gift. She at first thought that some great deception was going on but then she remembered that she was indeed under her own protection and that it was highly unlikely he would be able to get through what her experience had taught her was a powerful shield. She slowly nodded. Omar continued, "I noticed a particularly nasty memory blocking charm on you. Might I be of some service?" Chrissy's eyes darted around the room and realized that she was in the company of some very powerful friends and she trusted that they would not allow her to come to any harm. She looked at Omar and gave a slow nod. Omar raised his hand again then paused with a slight grin. "My dear, you are going to have to lower your shield if you wish any of my help to reach you. It is indeed powerful. Scarlet stepped up behind Chrissy and whispered in her ear, "It's ok Chrissy, we've got your back." Chrissy looked back at her trusted friend and despite her fear at this bizarre change of events she trusted Scarlet and her friends and decided to show her trust. She looked at Omar and gave one more 'knowing' search and found no guile in him, just power. She slowly nodded and with a sigh let her shield relax. "Thank you for trusting me Omar kindly said." He again lifted his hand and appeared to strain mighty. The veins on his forehead began to extend and he hissed through clenched teeth, "Guys, a little help here." Maria & Hobbs raised their hands and shortly there was a 'Pop' that was felt rather than heard. Chrissy dropped into a faint and Scarlet's blade was instantly out. Omar stepped back "It's alright Omar said, she is ok, look, she is coming around." Scarlet looked down and indeed Chrissy was opening her eyes but they looked strangely different. The Dona rushed to Chrissy's side and helped her to her feet. "I didn't 'do' anything to her, Omar said, I merely undid what had been done". Chrissy, on her feet now looked shakely around. "I am a witchdoctor she said. I was born one and my parents trained me well but when they died someone, somehow suppressed everything about who I was. I was so young, it was so long ago." She looked at Omar and his friends with gratitude. "This explains so much. Now I understand how I could know so much but I didn't know why. I owe you a great debt." She bowed with a graceful flourish of her fan. She looked at Graziella "You have no idea how much better I can help now".

[OOC: Even though this post comes after Chrissy's last two awesome posts, for the sake of clarity, and because I was unable to post this earlier, can this post please be considered as happening before Chrissy's post? Simply because it reveals a little bit about Scarlet's mask.]

Scarlet carefully glanced in the mirror, and saw to her horror, everybody revealed in their true forms. Everyone except for Gaziella who wasn't wearing any disguise, and herself. The mirror simply reflected Scarlet as she was, dressed for the masked ball and wearing her peregrin mask.

Bien, Muzzer's mask still works, nozing can reveal who I am untill I myself remove it. Scarlet though quickly, reasurring herself. Outwardly though, Scarlet was completely shocked,

"Chrissy? Who is zis Chrissy? Zis woman is not Chrissy, she is Lucia, and she 'as been our attendant for many years! I will not stand to 'ear anyzing else! Graziella, I zink we should move zis meeting downstairs so zat my Muzzer may be witness to zese 'orrid accusations!"

But, as Omar and Chrissy simply stared at her in obvious disbelief, Scarlet grinned and simply asked "It was werz a try no?"