"Master Orlando." Orlando turned his head slightly as he sat in a large backed chair which held regal accents and gold lacing down it, "what?" the servant coasted quickly down Orlando large room, the servant passed beautiful rugs or golden black and silver fixtures of the same color and a king sized bed that which insanely decorated. The servant held out a silver platter with a simple cloth atop it. Orlando picked it up and it read

Master Orlando Jimenez, we regret to inform you of your mother's death she died by brain seizure last fortnight. However you are now the sole heir to you father riches and companies. a devious smile spreaded on the lips on the young boy. "That’s all." he said someone coldly to the servant to which he bowed and shimmed away.

"Finally, I now control my own era, my own billion dollar industry, lovely." he sat comfortably in his regal chair thinking about his new responsibility but his new wealth as well. "Sir." Orlando sighed. "What?" the servant gulped quietly "your ride for your new academy is here" "ah!" Orlando exclaimed and jumped from his chair snapping for his servants to grab his bags. Finally in the extravagant limo he pulled up on to the grounds and marveled at the large ornate building putting on sunglasses he made his way into the building and came upon a room with gorgeous music playing.

Natanaele Boveri

Natanaele was already dressed in his formal attire. Punctuality was essential to a good businessman. While his entire being was screaming out pompous, and he wanted nothing more than to rip these clothes off and tuck them in some place where they’ll never see the light of day, the catacombs perhaps, he did end up dealing with it.

He was actually wearing something quite simple in comparison to some of the extravagant and colorful clothes that other men wear, however, he would rather be caught dead than be caught wearing a suit in any color but black, or navy blue, but that was straying from the point. He hated suits. He hated suits no matter the era. He hated suits that he had to wear.

Get the picture?

The suit was black, though by this point that’s obvious, and his coat was buttoned up stopping only when it reached his silk covered neck. The rest of it was a black and somewhat loose trouser tucked into his black leather boots. Like he said, he wore black.

Technically he wasn’t supposed to wear his hats; after all, etiquette calls for a man never to wear a hat in doors. The hat he was wearing didn’t really go with the Victorian theme, but in all honesty the only people that tried to were the only people he found interest in and he was not one of them. No he liked the peacocks. While he was an intellectual. Ah, here comes someone no-…oh its just her. Lucid. One of the few that had somehow managed to be both dull and intelligent. No he was looking for someone that tried to hard, and she never tried at all. At least, not when he was looking.

He sighed. How boring this party was starting to seem. Of course, the party had not yet truly started. He audibly sighed. He wished everyone could at least attempt to be as punctual as he. Of course, to be as punctual as him, fifteen minutes early was on time, and on time was fifteen minutes late.

There was one thing he supposed he could rejoice over, he didn’t have to sit through another one of the overbearing council meetings where they talk about matters that really are pointless to discuss. Well, not pointless to this secret society, but pointless to him and that was all that really mattered much at the moment.

He looked back up from under his black hat and caught sight of the now entering male and just behind him the little brunette peeking out from behind the door frame. Strange girl. The mask? Ah yes Picasso, our youngest mute. Well, he supposed he could at least attempt a conversation with the two, or rather the only one who could have a conversation with him. Although, it certainly would be entertaining to watch Picasso attempt to speak to communicate with him, but that might also be a little mean.

He stood and bowed graciously to the entering girl and gave a sly wink to the still hiding one, “you certainly look ravishing tonight Lucid,” he glanced at the brunette, “I would compliment you Picasso, however, you are currently hiding yourself from peering eyes. Though with fashion such as this I hardly blame you.”

Dear Beloved Staff,

I wanted to tell you that I deci
I simply wanted to inform you that I have gone for a very long walk. Please, do not look for me. Please, do not stress. And finally, please be aware that I am fine and will return when I please. I do not wish to inform you of where I am going for fear you may stop me. Do forgive me.

La tua Piccolo Colomba,
~Fantasia Colombera

P.S. Do not look for that hori horrid corset for I have taken it with me. To be burned.

The elderly woman smacked the note with the back of her hand before yelling, “FANTASIA!!”

Almost immediately she stampeded out of the room visibly peeved. As she did she ranted to herself and held the note in vice grip. Her already pale hands looked bone white in color and like skeletal hands in shape. She wore a very simple outfit; it was long and black with buttons coming down for a narrow raised collar to the end of the dress. Her sleeves were slightly puffed around the shoulders and flared out around her wrists. Upon her feet she wore black shoes with a bulky and short heel. Her silver hair was wrapped tightly in a bun upon the top of her head.

That girl had insisted upon spending her day in her room preparing on her own, and now the elderly woman understood why. The young mistress was always trying to destroy the corsets, but to have waited until the night it was need. Sheer evil genius.

However, the Italian woman had a few tricks up her sleeve, as well. After having practically raised the beautiful girl she had adapted to her childish demeanor and her childish pranks. That was why she always had an extra on hand. One even Fantasia did not know existed. The woman covered her mouth in a sly chuckle as she asked one of the younger women to fetch the well-hidden corset for her.

As the maid scampered off the woman returned to the bedroom to find that the young mistress had returned.

Fantasia wore a coy smile on her face. Finally, oh finally she had succeeded. For once she could go to a masquerade and actually breath, and even better eat! This time the sweets of the night could not escape her. Not that they ever did.

“Hello, Little Dove.” Fantasia bowed her head in response, “Unfortunately, we were unable to locate your usual corset,” the maid she had sent off returned with the corset in hand, “So we will have to use this one instead.”

Fantasia visibly paled as she realized that once again, she would be forced to sit up straight, starve, and hold her breath.

Well, it wasn’t like she could very well voice her opinion on the matter. So she undressed herself and held her breath. In all actuality the corset was more for show than actual use considering it wasn’t made out of steel or anything. But still, it had to be the most uncomfortable thing to have ever been created.

The maids finally tied the uncomfortable thing and Fantasia exhaled, only to find that she could barely draw in any more air. One never really got used to these stupid things. It was then she was forced to put on a pair of satin shorts, just incase, and finally they brought over the final package. The dress. Actually she rather liked the dress considering she had been there for every step of the creation process.

It was not as extravagant as others, there were no jewels, or really any beading, however, it did possess and understated beauty. It was a hand died blue, the flower designs being her own and it had some visible boning on the bodice.

Fantasia, once wearing it was made to sit down for hair styling and make up purposes. Her hair was pulled back and slightly to the side allowing for some curls to hang down on one of her shoulders, and her make up mimicked the blue of her dress and enhanced her lip color.

She looked at herself in the mirror and acknowledged the fact they had succeeded in forcing her to look like a grown woman with a sly smile. After which she carefully secured her mask on her face and was escorted into the waiting vehicle. Approximately 35 minutes passed before she was finally assisted out and brought into the building and finally she made her way to the entrance of the ballroom.

Of course she didn’t enter right away, oh no, she first peered from behind the entrance in order to see who else had arrived.

The lights below her bedroom window danced past her, reflected in the window glass, reflected in her laptop screen, but Ella paid little to no attention to them. She was too immersed in watching "My Fair Lady" to care. She was giggling at the ridiculousness of the scene when Eliza and the professor go to the races, and all of the pompous, ridiculous hats that defined the high society there.

She heard knocking on the door, finally audible through her headphones. She tried to block out the noise, but grew annoyed with it and took out her earbuds. "Will you please just come inside. The door is unlocked."

"But that would be rude of me," said her maid as she entered. As if knocking insistently when she obviously didn't want to be disturbed wasn't. Her maid stood in her doorway and folded her hands in front of her as she spoke. "The Lady told me to remind you about the plans to attend the manor tonight." She looked Ella up and down before saying, "I think you best start getting ready."

Ella sighed. Yes, she best. She forgot that she was a part of this high society that she was giggling at earlier after all. Ella loved glitz and glamour and the high life as much as the next girl, but what she cherished even more was individuality. The Masquerade did not. It was a common practice among members of The Masquerade to try and control the lives of every single individual that was a part of it. Therefore... well they were a bunch of control freaks.

Ella's parents long since discovered that she could not and would not be moved when it came to having her own choice in her life. Her room was decorated as she pleased, in tones of gold and bronze and beige. It was a large room, with only her queen sized canopy bed, a vanity table, a dresser, a hope chest, and an upright mirror taking up the majority of the space. As well as her favorite spot, her window seat, beside a large window framed by lace curtains and looking out across Italy. The rest of the space in the room was dedicated to her dancing, as she need a lot of space. Decorations were simple and leaning towards modern, as were a lot of things during Ella's favorite decade, the 20's.

As it was her favorite Era, it was also how Ella usually chose to dress. If her parents insisted otherwise then she'd just disappear once arriving at whatever event she was asked to attend. Which was actually quite saddening. Ella loved to socialize. She just liked to socialize in her own way.

She got up from her window seat and sat down at her vanity table. She started doing her own bright-red hair, loosely worn up in a braided wrap and simple with a white feather tucked inside. She did her makeup simple as well, exaggerated cat-eye liner around her dark brown eyes and bright red lipstick was all she needed. When it was time to dress, Ella chose one of her favorites. It was a 20's inspired wedding gown. Of course, Ella wasn't going to a wedding, and she definitely wasn't getting married, but that wasn't going to stop her from wearing something so beautiful. She finished off her look with her golden mask.

When it was time for her to leave she was saddened to discover that she wasn't going to be arriving with her parents, as they had already left without her. A separate vehicle, a black 2012 Bentley, had already arrived to pick her up.

She rode to the manor in silence, alone except for her quiet driver, and arrived with no interruptions.

Inside she found that many had already arrived, punctual as usual. The entrance was pretty crowded, and from there she looked around to see if she could find anyone that she would usually socialize with at such gatherings. She would talk about art with them, or perhaps what plays they had been to recently, or what musical artists they had recently discovered. She also kept a careful eye out for her parents, so that perhaps she could stay within their radar, and so that perhaps they might choose to associate themselves with her, as they were usually embarrassed by her attire, and embarrassed to be seen with her in public.

She couldn't see well over the heads of some of the youngsters gathered near the doorway, and was growing rather annoyed with their inability to move out of the way, to a less congested area. Nonetheless, it was no problem for Ella. She just closed her eyes and one second she was standing on one side of them and in the next on the other. She continued looking over the crowd, like she had only blinked her eyes.

It would probably be best if she got out of the way too, so she moved towards a less crowded area, gliding past shoulders gracefully as she made her way, so that at least if she couldn't find anyone, she could be found.

Xander let out a soft sigh as he re-slid his mask over his face, looking to his father, who was already on his way to the Council meeting. Being the president's son and the heir to the position, he should attend the meetings so he can gain experience and knowledge. But tonight, he requested that he would be excused from it. This must've been his billionth time putting it on, so he didn't have to adjust it a bunch like he used to. He had come early with his father, so after putting the mask on, he had made his way to the ballroom and was inside.

Slowly, he walked around the ballroom, unsure of what to do until someone showed up. The faint sount of footsteps came from the entrance, and he turned his head to see Lucid, Reverb, Picasso and Genie gathered there. He smiled, though it was hard to see through the mask, and bowed. When he stood straight again, he flattened out the lines of his shirt. He looked at down at himself, remembering what he'd gotten dressed into. A white 18th century tunic, covered by a red coat, black trousers, and a pair of black boots

Xander strutted towards them, and stopped infront of Lucid. "Welcome." He paused to bow to them once again. "Ladies, gentlemen." He said, a formal greeting. His golden eyes fell upon Lucid, whom he was supposed to be matched with. "Good evening." Xander gently took her hand by the fingers and and faintly kissed the top of it. All the meanwhile not noticing as Starlet teleported past them.



Mythias stood back from the mirror and took a look at himself. His eyes softened at the sight of the mixture vibrant blue and black clothing he had put together. He turned from the mirror and grabbed his coat, nearly running into his father. "Have a good night." The older man said, setting a hand on Mythias' shoulder. Mythias nodded and shrugged it off, sliding his arms into the coat and leaving the house. It was darker outside, because by every passing minute he was plunging further into the night.

He walked for quite some time, looking at the details in the sky nearly every step of the way. Eventually, he came to the Manor. Before stepping in, he waited outside and walked a little more, but only around the courtyard. When he was finished, he walked inside, put away his coat, and began down one of the larger hallways that would branch off into the one leading to the ballroom. Mythias looked at the small black watch fastened to his wrist and looked at the time. His shoulders slumped and he continued down the hallway, and to the ballroom.

Once he was there, he joined the group of five gathered around near the entrance. He smiled and waved, pretending to take off a hat to them in greeting. He waited a few seconds before tapping Pheonix on the shoulder, and gently pushing him aside so he could get into the ballroom.

:: Annabeth Montgomery ::

Annabeth didn't keep the track of time, there was only the enchanting melodies of piano, the cold and velvet sensation of ivories lingering on her finger and...her voice. She was in the small white instrument room of Montgomery manor, trying to throw the stress on her shoulders away via singing and playing piano, she did that usually when she was about to go to "The Masquerade.". But how matter how long she sang her heart out, or played instruments for hours, she still couldn't throw away the gloomy heaviness squeezing her abdomen.

Her mother was probably looking for her, but she was already prepared. Annabeth had a bad habit of not taking care of her appearance, more like...dressing very plainly. She was wearing a plain strapless white dress tightening around her corset, with a black velvet material wrapped around her waist, like a belt. The dress stopped around an inch below her knees. Annabeth never gave the opportunity to her mother to scold her about this, but she was very strict about her hair. She liked the itchy feeling of her curly honey locks left on her shoulders.

She caressed the grand piano made from oak for a while, then stood up and walked towards the white lime door. The instrument room itself was very small compared to her own room, but Annabeth liked this room much better than hers. She liked the atmosphere of it, much more home-like than the candle lit lounge that she had to sit all the day with her parents.

She was about to turn the doorknob when her mother barged in while panting hard. She was sweating very bad, but unexpectedly her make-up hadn't even ruined a bit by the liquid.

"I knew you would be here, come on, the car is waiting for us."

Annabeth sighed and put on her white mask. She liked being plain, just like her usual look. She was very pretty and attractive when compared to the other members of masquerade, like all of her family members. But she was very plain compared to them. She tried not to bite her lip because she didn't want to ruin the blood red lipstick her mother had forced on her. Of course, 'Capella' was going to sing today too. Capella had always sang in "The Masquerade" with various tones making people swoon in envy.

Annabeth didn't know anyone in there, she had not talked to anyone of them. She had no right to be jealous of their friendships and relationships when she intentionally stayed away from them. But she couldn't help but feel like an outsider, she was a human after all. When she was young and new to Masquerade, she always thought if she was invisible to the ball, she wouldn't get a match. Nevertheless, watching things grow in the ball made her feel worse. She was 18 now, meaning she had only two years left until she find her match.

She didn't notice arriving at the magnificent manor, nor she minded her mother dragging her in. Her father wasn't present with them. She hoped this day would pass like the others as well.

With her hair flying everywhere around her face and her heart racing like crazy, Samantha walked, almost ran, into the ballroom where the masquerade was held as usual. Her mom had arrived ages ago, while her father was at home working on some book. He was very ill and had gotten permission to stay home the next week or so. Only because he was so well-liked among the members of the Council, of course. Samantha sighed and adjusted her mask. Her mum would kill her if she knew how late she was. Precision and perfection meant everything to that woman, one of the things that made Sam and her mum so different.

She slowed down and tried to walk past the group standing in front of the doorway without touching any of them. It was difficult with all the huge ball gowns. Whisper herself was wearing a white evening gown, that by itself might not have been flashy enough, but with her mask it looked amazing. She managed to get past them seemingly without anyone noticing. Even though she was late, not everyone had showed up yet. Half of the floor was actually still empty. Whisper smiled and relaxed her shoulders; she should stop worrying so much about her mother. She glanced around the giant ballroom unsure of what to do for some minutes, but then decided to just stay by herself for a while. Even though she always enjoyed observing the others, she kinda wanted someone to walk up to her. She'd been a member for almost a year now, but only had a few people she talked to. Also, she just wanted something different to happen tonight.

((sorry for the very short and uninspiring post - I promise to make up for it in another post))

((ignore this please))

It hadn't taken long to get ready, or to get to the Ballroom. Maori watched the group from a few metres back, eyes fixed on Mime, who had just arrived. She looked down to herself to see nothing, to which she frowned. It's a shame to waste such a beautiful dress if noone can see it. She thought, and let loose a smirk. She trotted towards the group and followed Mime as he gently and subtly pushed past Pheonix.

Once fully inside the Ballroom, she looked to Mime, who was looking straight at her. Through her. She took a few steps closer and examined his facial features. She held a finger right in between his eyes, and she unveiled herself, walking out of the Ethereal state. "You." She absorbed his slightly surprised look and added, "Your mask is crooked. Sort of." She said, and poked it.

Then, noticing how close she was to him, she blushed and took two massive steps back. "God, you're no fun. Usually people freak out and say 'Ahh! You scared me.' But- you can't right?" Her eyes widened and she slapped one hand over her mouth. The other one was hot in persuit and landed on the first with a loud clap. "I'm so sorry. That was totally rude." She shrunk back even further and veiled herself once again. Oh god, I feel so bad. That poor guy. His name is even Mime. It's better staying in this state. Much less embarassing. She thought, slumping her shoulders. Once she was done moping, she unveiled herself once again and looked down to her dress, to make sure she was visible.

She tugged at it a few times, feeling uncomfortable in it. It was a Green dress that wasn't that pretty, but it wasn't plain either. She had put on eyeshadow to match, though it wouldn't be very visible through the mask. Once she was sure she could go face the normal world again, she stood with her hands clasped together and hanging down infront of her. She maintained her posture for the time being.

"Hm..." Caroline observed the new toy ship as she let it float in the indoor pool that she had, a sigh came out from her lips along with a frown, "This is just boring~" She took the ship from the water and observed the model, "Maybe if we would make this a wind up toy instead, then it would be more fun to watch." She wrote this down on a piece of paper that was with her.

Caroline exited the pool and went towards her room, she placed the ship model on the table with the piece of paper. She then sat by the window as she stared at the moon and the stars, "To fly again underneath this magnificent sky..." She thought as she remembered during the times when she and her older siblings would fly in the air for the entire day. One reason why the high leaders of her clan didn't accept the invitation: it would mean they couldn't use their powers out in the open anymore, they could only use it in the ball. Their philosophy is to be free like the wind.

KNOCK KNOCK

"Come in." Caroline said as her eyes did not leave the night sky.

Thomas, her most trusted butler, entered the room with a silver tray on his hand with letters on it, "I am sorry to disturb you, my lady, but these letters just came in." He said as he walks towards Caroline and placed the tray down to her level revealing three letters, "And I have prepared your clothes for this evening."

Caroline took hold of the letters and browsed the name of the sender, "The clothes that we have talked about, Thomas?"

He nodded as he placed the silver tray by his side, "The same clothes, my lady. Annie will arrive shortly to assist you in changing."

She nodded, "Very well, then. Thank you, Thomas. You may go." Thomas gave a short bow and left the room. Caroline's eyes went back to the names of the senders, "Bartolomeo Vargas, Lovino Rizzo and Veliciano De Lucca...must be another commission." She thought as she opened the letters and scanned who she was going to kill.

KNOCK KNOCK

"Must be Annie." Caroline thought, "Come in."

Annie came in and bowed towards Caroline, "I am here to help you change for tonight's ball."

The young girl stood up from her spot and nodded towards the maid and began to remove the clothing that she was currently wearing and wore a long sleeved buttoned shirt, along with a green and black striped vest and black trousers, as well as white stockings and knee high leather boots. She then proceeded to wearing the dress robe she had asked to make. Twirling around and looking at the mirror, she nodded in approval of her clothing. Annie bowed to Caroline again, to say that she would leave, and left the room. Caroline took her full face mask and placed it on once more. She left her room and proceeded on going outside of her manor, where Thomas was waiting for her with the door of the carriage wide open for her.

Thomas bowed towards her, "Have a safe trip, my lady."

Caroline bowed in reply and stepped inside the carriage. Once seated comfortably inside, Thomas shut the door and the horses ran towards her destination, "Another night to observe "The Masquerade". Another night closer in achieving my revenge." She thought darkly as she travels towards the designated place.

As soon as she entered the room that was filled with music and people, a smile appeared behind the blue mask as she soars up in the sky with shouts of joy coming out from her lips as she flies above the crowd. Her eyes spotted the group who were close to her age, "Better to socialize and make me the very least suspect. Plus, it's fun to socialize and to play pranks." She thought as she zoomed towards and landed with the air blowing upwards that the women of the room and had to put their hands on the skirt of their dresses so that it would not be blown fully upward.

A playful laugh erupted from her lips and as she bent forward to contain herself. After several laughs, she turned to the group, placed her hands on her hips and titled her head a bit, "How is everyone?" She asked with full enthusiasm within her voice.

Caterina Di'angelo

"These are wrong, they need to be softer, more silky to the touch." Caterina shook her head slightly at the fabrics laid out on the table in front of her. Beside her several young people took notes on what she was saying and one gathered up the fabrics and carried them away. Caterina sighed quietly in frustration, nothing seemed quite right and she needed this design to be perfect. It was the last design in her portfolio and she had even the smallest chance of impressing her father then it needed to be extra special. The portfolio had a mixture of different outfits in it for various occasions and the last one she planned as evening wear but she needed it to be different enough to stand out on its own.

"Rina, what are you still doing here?" Sasha, her friend and employee of the company, asked. "Didn't you say you had to leave early tonight? Some dinner or something?"

Caterina checked her watch and cursed as she saw the time, the last thing she needed was for her to show her father up by being late. She was after all trying to prove herself to him not make him see her in a worse light. She nodded to Isabella before grabbing her things.

"Can you make sure they have the silks ready tomorrow?" She called over her shoulder hurrying towards the exit not waiting to hear Sasha's reply.

A short time later she was putting the final touches to her evening toilette and ensuring that she looked perfect for the evening ahead. As she applied the final coat of lip gloss she wondered what if any interesting people she would meet that night and whether tonight she would meet her match. She wasn't particularly fond of being 'matched' with someone yet she disliked the incessant waiting for it to happen almost as much. She was twenty two years old, past matching age and yet so far nothing had been announced. It made her feel as though she was too odd even for the Masquerade and could not help but worry that the others thought the same about her.

Her father shouting for her pulled her from her reverie and she looked in the mirror briefly ensuring she looked as she should, she smoothed the fabric of her red dress (http://i603.photobucket.com/albums/tt11 ... ses/M6.jpg) and ensured her mask was secure before she headed down to her father and the car. The trip to the manor was uncomfortable as usual with her stepmother going on about how disappointed she was with Caterina and her father sitting silently across from her. It was a relief to step out of the car even if it did mean running the gauntlet so to speak, she didn't mind the Masquerade and even enjoyed some parts of it such as the dancing, but hated how crowded it got. But her father would never allow her not to show her face and so she took a deep breath and entered the ballroom ensuring a bright, confident smile was on her face.

Nathanial Townsend

The water was cool but not cold and quiet thanks to it being his private pool, as much as he disliked those who watched over him he could not deny they ensured he had all the comforts he could possibly want. As well as all the isolation he could want or more appropriately need. Nathanial struck through the water in long fluid movements swimming from one end of the pool to the other. He swam until his muscles ached and had begun to tremble and for a time at least he felt calmer though he knew it wouldn't last. But if he was to get through this latest evening at the Masquerade he would need to hold on to that calm for as long as possible.
Finally when he could swim no more he admitted defeat and climbed out of the pool and walked naked into his private suite adjoining the pool room.

He wasn't surprised to see the suit hanging on the front of his wardrobe door and would have been more surprised if there had not have been one there. In the relatively short time he had been in Italy he had learned that the people employed to watch him and ensure nothing happened to him also did a very thorough job of ensuring he did as he was told. Oh they allowed him his freedom, or at least a pretence of freedom, just so long as it did not adversely affect the Townsend name or in any way interfere with the Masquerade. After all he was here to be 'cured' and nothing could get in the way of that, not if his father had anything to do with it.

The glass on the bedside table began to shake and the contents slosh around as it did so, realising he was clenching his fist Nathanial closed his eyes and breathed deeply. After a few moments the glass was still again and his anger sealed shut again, for now. With a resigned air he dressed hardly caring that the suit clearly had been tailored for him emphasising his broad shoulders, long legs and small hips a legacy of his years in the pool. (http://www.lulusoso.com/upload/20120414 ... or_men.jpg)
Once dressed he made his way down to the car park where his driver waited along with his chaperone. He nodded to the older man sitting in the back of the limo, by now used to the fact that his father kept constant tabs on him. The man nodded back but said nothing and the journey to the manor was made in silence.

Nathanial ensured his mask was straight and secure before leaving his shadow to take up position in a discreet corner while he entered the ballroom. Plenty of others had already arrived and he noticed those he knew such as Mime, Whisper, Lucid, Rapture and others. He nodded to each of those he recognised but did not smile nor greet them personally. Instead he walked straight to the bar and after receiving his drink simply stood watching the others.

Whisper was watching the group of young members at the entrance, when a male she recognised as Gladiator entered the ballroom. He gave a few people a simple nod, including her, before heading over towards the bar. Whisper nodded back and silently walked after him. He seemed irritated. Actually, he always did, but usually he was a lot better at hiding it. Whisper waited until he got his drink and then gave him a smile when he turned around. "Hi." She tried her best to stay cool and not act weird or anything. She knew that not everyone was as open as her. Besides, they'd never really talked before. She ordered a drink similar to his and leaned against the bar counter. She felt like talking and it looked like Gladiator could use some socialising himself.

Whisper glanced down into her drink and swallowed. I wonder how many calories there's in this one...
"So... it's Gladiator, isn't it?" She took one little sip of her drink and smirked nervously. Standing next to him really made him look like a giant. How old was he anyway... 23? "Not so difficult to guess why."

Nathanial paused in the process of bringing the glass to his lips, he frowned slightly as he heard the sound of a soft feminine voice address him. He turned coming face to face with a girl he recognised but had never spoken to before, a blonde girl who he remembered as Whisper. She was younger than some of the other girls and yet Nate always thought that was older than her years, her eyes seeming to hold more knowledge and wisdom than a normal girl her age would. As with all of the girls here and some of the men she was shorter than he and had to look up slightly to meet his gaze. Normally he found having to look down irritating and yet oddly just then he found it endearing. He was surprised at that as it was not a feeling he was used to, but there was something about this girl that interested him even though she was too young for him. his eyes darkened for a moment as he began thinking of dark things that he could do with her and then he mentally slapped himself, sternly reminding himself that she was too young for him and certainly too young for that.

"Yes I am Gladiator." He replied his British accent strong in his words. "And you are Whisper I believe?"

In perhaps an old world, old fashioned gesture he took her hand and raised it to his lips bestowing a peck on its surface before releasing it again. Someone jostled him slightly as they walked past and apologised but Nate felt the usual anger building in him and he glared at the persons retreating back wanting to grab them and plant a fist in the man's face. The alcohol in Nate's glass began to froth, only slightly and it was only noticeable if you had a keen eye, and Nate looked at it and then at Whisper. Strangely he did not want her to see him as a violent person and so he concentrated on calming his irritation and after a moment the liquid subsided into its normal state.

"You'll have to forgive me." He said quietly. "I am not...good in social situations. You might find some of the others more pleasant company."

He did not want to stop talking to her but he felt he should at least give her the chance to do so if she wanted to, especially if she had noticed his little display.

Natanaele Boveri (Genie)


Genie soon found that almost the moment he spoke to the two young ladies a throng of people soon emerged from the entrance, notably causing the silent young lady to be pushed into an uncomfortable position sandwiched between people and the wall. However, as hysterical the image before him he had no desire to become part of any real conversation now that there were plenty of people to entertain him.

Quickly and silently he made his way over to an unoccupied spot right in front of one of the copious mirrors. There he sat and he watched and identified the people who had entered. He noted one of the ladies literally teleport pass the crowd in front of the door and internally applauded the useful trick.

Thus far nothing interesting had occurred unfortunately, well, actually Night’s short interaction with Mime was rather amusing. While he had never had much interest in the girl considering he couldn’t see her half of the time, when she did unveil herself the ensuing chaos that always seemed to follow was most certainly something he looked forward to.

As of now, regrettably, she had decided to retain her manners for the time being. He sighed heavily. Why was no one doing anything interesting tonight? Didn’t anyone feel like making fools of themselves by being overly pompous and impressive. Obviously not. He supposed he could make conversation with one of them at least but that was so tedious. For now, he supposed, he would simply wait for something interesting to happen. Someone was bound to arrive and be doomed to failure.

Fantasia Colombera (Picasso)

No sooner had Fantasia peeked around the entrance did everyone, and I mean everyone, begin arriving. It was most unexpected and she found herself unable to react in time. In order to make way for everyone making his or her way through the entrance she was gradually being crushed against the wall. So much so, she was scared to breath, not that it was actually possible. Once the arrivals finally died down she overtly moved against the wall.

She wasn’t really aware of how silly it looked to move completely against the wall until she was safely out of the way of the entrance and actually thought about it. When she realized her folly she abruptly turned away from the wall and held her hand behind her. Biting on her lip in the process. She was in awfully high hopes that no one had been paying attention.

She glanced over in one direction and paused for a moment. Could that be what she thought it may be? Oh yes, it was, food. Food of all shapes and flavors. Of course, her eyes were quickly drawn to those of the sweetened nature. Oh they would be hers. All of them would be hers and she didn’t have to be a fortuneteller to know that. Mainly, due to the fact she was already trotting over to the buffet. Quickly, but surely, she began to pick up the particularly sweet looking bite sized treats and stuff them in her mouth. Very unladylike however she could hardly contain herself around sweet things. Covertly, she continued to do so, making sure she was facing no one as she stuffed her face.

Xander let go of Lucid's hand just as Genie walked away. He felt embarrased when he noticed how much space they'd been taking up. As he walked further into the ballroom, Pheonix's eyes fell upon numerous people. Some he knew, and some were unfamiliar to him. There were a few dancing, a few sitting, a few conversing, and the occasional person eating the food prepared. He looked back to Lucid.

"May I ask you for your first and last dance tonight, Miss?" He asked, outstretching a hand for her to take. His hands felt oddly warm, which was a bad sign. Fire. Oh no... not at a time like this. Control. Focus. Control. He thought, furrowing his brow the slightest, but trying to hide it.



"You."

A second later a finger was on Mythias' mask. He stepped back in surprise. "Your mask is crooked. Sort of." A girl, dressed in a green dress and a black mask, said rather abruptly. He subconciously raised his hands and adjusted it. "God, you're no fun. Usually people freak out and say 'Ahh! You scared me.' But- you can't right?" She said, and he raised his eyebrows, waiting....

Slap. Slap. Two hands were covering her mouth. It didn't take long or her to figure out what she'd just said, and who she'd said it to. Before he could do anything, she shrunk back and appologized. "I'm so sorry. That was totally rude." He raised his hand to wave it off but she disappeared. He softly chuckled and turned on his heel. His eyes fell upon Pheonix, who was offering a hand to Lucid in an offer to dance.

Caroline noticed that no one was paying attention the question she asked, which made her terribly irritated. She stumped her foot like a child, making a strong wind blow to every single direction of the room. She then crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted behind her mask, "I don't like being ignored."

She then spotted Mime and grinned. She flew towards him stopped when her mask was just a centimeter away from him, "Ah, Mime. One of my favorite people in the ball." She said as she flew a bit higher than him and ruffled up his hair and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, "You know what will be really great? If you and Picasso would be matched!" She said as she pointed at the other silent one who was at the buffet table, "You two are both quiet, strangely quiet that is." She whispered the last part, "And I don't know what your powers are! Look at all the similarities!"

Caroline looked back at the table and frowned, she let go of Mime and landed back to floor...of course blowing up every women's skirt around. A sigh escaped her lips, "What made me choose a full mask again?" She groaned as she remembered she didn't eat anything at her manor, "Oh right. So that no one would really suspect Caroline Sylvianne. Darn it. I should make this thing halfable." She looked back at Mime and bowed like a gentleman, "Well, my good sir, I must bid farewell and try to convince that beautiful lady over there," She pointed at the buffet table, "To be infatuated...or is it some other word? Oh well. In short, I have to go because I'm hungry and I will make Picasso fall for you." She jumped and flew towards the buffet table and quietly creep towards Picasso. Once she was near her ear she whispered, "Mime likes you~"

Some guy accidentally jostled Gladiator when he walked past them, resulting in Gladiators hand touching Samantha's arm. It only lasted for a second, but it was enough to make Sam jump back as if she had burned herself. The intense feelings of anger and irritation were flowing through Gladiator like fire and gazoline. For a second she almost got worried, but she calmed down again when she noticed how concentrated he was on trying to stay calm.

"You'll have to forgive me." He said quietly. "I am not...good in social situations. You might find some of the others more pleasant company." Whisper examined him with her eyes, completely disagreeing with what he said. "No, no... You're weird," she said with a slight smile and without realising that she might offend him. "You're interesting. Don't leave just yet." She took another sip of her drink and then placed it on the counter as far away from herself as possible. A girl she didn't recognise was stuffing her face with all sorts of food over at the buffet table and Whisper grimaced in disgust. Didn't the girl have any self-control? And how could she possibly be so fit when she ate like a pig? Whisper shook her head and then looked back up at Gladiator. She wondered what his powers might be. There was so many different people and "abilities", it was difficult to remember all of them. "So tell me... is it super strength? Can you fly? Control the weather?" Whisper gasped dramatically with raised eyebrows, before lowering her voice and smirking teasingly. "Or can you read my mind?" She wondered if he was one of those psychic guys that no one really knew the powers of.

Mythias raised his eyes to look at Echo as she floated above him. "Ah, Mime. One of my favorite people in the ball." She said, to which he blushed, flattered. "You know what will be really great? If you and Picasso would be matched!" She continued, pointing to Picasso. He raised his eyebrows. Wasn't it a little early in the night to be talking about matches? "You two are both quiet," Echo said, and he nodded. It was true. For some unknown reason Picasso was also mute. He looked to the floor, feeling guilty. Here he was, a perfectly good voice, and he kept it quiet while there might be others out there who actually can't speak. "And I don't know what your powers are! Look at all the similarities!" Mythias nodded again. That was also true. He had never told anyone his power (not to mention shown them), and he has never heard of Picasso's power either.

Echo landed, sending dresses up everywhere, causing Mythias to look down again. Echo then muttered something about choosing a full mask and then she bowed (like a gentleman, may I add). "Well, my good sir, I must bid farewell and try to convince that beautiful lady over there, to be infatuated...or is it some other word? Oh well. In short, I have to go because I'm hungry and I will make Picasso fall for you." She said, and he brought a hand up to his eyes, covering them. Oh dear, what a troublesome night this has been thus far. That girl must learn to control her meddling.

Picasso

Poor Fantasia had quickly realized how much of a bad idea it was to attempt to eat too much so early in the night already. For two reasons, the first being the ridiculous corset she had been forced to wear making it even harder to breathe after having eaten. The second being due to having been snuck up on so early in the night. In her surprise she choked on the food in her mouth. Lifting the napkin in her hand she covered her mouth managing to cough in complete and utter silence. This was an acquired technique that has also gotten her into some slight trouble. The thing is if someone can’t hear her cough they automatically assume she can’t breathe and thus there is always someone in the crowd that want to give her the Heimlich.

By the time she was well enough to look up at the young woman who had given her such a fright she was also crying slightly. It was safe to say that for the rest of the night she wouldn’t be eating anything else for fear that this may occur again. This really saddened her. However, back to the attempted conversation at hand. Apparently, this young lady felt that the young man known as Mime liked her. Somehow she doubted this seriously and with a skeptical smile and a cocked eyebrow she shook her head. After searching a few moments she found a black napkin and a pen, I will only believe such a thing if he were to inform me himself, and even then he’d have to prove it to me as well.

Echo squinted her eyes a bit to read what Picasso wrote on the black napkin, "I will only believe such thing if~ he were to inform me himself...and even then he'd have to prove it to me as well." She read out loud, almost as if she wanted to let Mime hear the response of Picasso. Echo looked back at Picasso and pouted under her mask, "Eh? Picasso~ You don't really mean that don't you? I mean both of you can't even talk so how in the world can he-oh~ I get it." Her eyes glint with mischievousness, "A love letter~" But she immediately grabbed her by the shoulders, "But guys are not like that anymore! That was the past and this is the twenty-first century! If you want a guy, then you have to make the first move! The species of men who makes the first move is-"

Echo fell from the height of four feet above the ground because her narcolepsy kicked in. She laid there on the floor sleeping...then she woke up after ten minutes of sleeping. A small yawn escaped her lips, "I hate it when my narcolepsy kicks in." She stood up and patted her clothes. Once again, she flew a feet from the ground and looked at Picasso, "As I was saying, those types of men do not longer exist. If there were, then they're taken or gay." Her eyes suddenly spotted the buffet table and zoomed in the appetizing macaroons, she felt her mouth water. Echo looked back at Picasso and bowed like a gentleman on the air, "Well, my lady, I must bid farewell for the moment. Now if you may excuse me, I have to conceal myself from the society."

With that she flew towards the macaroons and grabbed a handful and went underneath the covered table, "Alone at last." She said as she removed her mask and ate the macaroons in delight.

Nathanial was unsure if he should be flattered or insulted that Whisper thought he was weird and interesting, he decided that she seemed genuine in her interest of him and so he would not be insulted. Besides she was easier to talk to than many of the others he had met during the course of balls such as this one and he found he was enjoying her company. He had noticed her recoil when he had accidentally touched her arm earlier and wondered at it. He had been very angry and perhaps she had thought that he would hurt her? But then surely she would have taken the escape he had offered and get as far away from him as she could? Yet she had not, yes she was interesting indeed.

He stilled suddenly glass raised to his lips when she asked what his ability was, no one had ever outright asked him before and he was unused to such a direct approach. But then he could not blame her for being curious and he could not deny he was curious about her in return. Perhaps he could show her, after all where would the harm be as long as he was careful and kept the demonstration a small one. He was not yet in full control of his abilities but he could manage small things without losing control of it. He set his glass down on the bar and looked at her for a long moment trying to decide how she would react but it was impossible to tell and he would know soon enough.

"It would be easier to show you." He said and indicated that she should watch his glass, once he was sure her attention was on it he focussed on the glass.

He concentrated on the glass and mentally nudged it with his mind urging it to do as he willed it to, the glass slowly lifted into the air and hovered there a moment before moving into his outstretched hand.

"As this seems to be show and tell, perhaps you would like to return the favour?" He asked eyebrows raised questioningly.