New Year's Ballroom [L]

[Tehodis Kitai]

Everything was happening so quickly, and now Tehodis was royally confused. First, Cherry is so mad she's going about slapping people who don't deserve it. Then, she started laughing about what had happened and seeming to completely forget the whole thing, and then she even offered to make her clothing? What the fu- "Um," She sounded, looking around for some kind of clue that would tell her this was all some horrible, horrible joke. The pain that she felt in her bruised cheek, however, told her that it couldn't have been a joke. No one would do that to somebody as a joke - especially not a female Kinaroe.

"I have to admit... I'm very confused," She whispered, unsure of what she was saying as she refused to look up from her feet, feeling as though the crowd they had gathered were mocking her idiocy. After a few moments that completely destroyed any confidence she had left, she turned away, wiping away a few tears that had started. She definitely was no good at this whole fighting thing. Every time she did it, it ended with her in tears. "I respectfully decline, thank you."

And with that, Tehodis made her way through the crowd. Some people were indeed laughing, and anybody who wasn't she didn't really hear. Instead she just kept on making her way through them until she reached one of the many gigantic arched doors that doubled as windows. With a swift yank she pulled on the handle and then ran outside, trying to keep her tears from falling too much until she was out of sight of nearly everyone.

"Are you alright?" She heard from one side of her, but she just kept on walking. Quickly, quickly down the steps, trying to escape her confusion and embarrassment. Halfway down the stone she stopped, her hand supporting the rest of her on the railing while she tossed off her shoes. The heel were too hard to get away in. As soon as they were gone, her speed doubled, and she rushed into the garden, looking for an empty crevice to hole herself up in. There she would relieve the pressure on her feet that were aching both from the walking in high heels and the things that pushed into her feet when she walked without the heels. Finally she found one, a little alcove created by a few hedges, a statue and a bush of roses. She crawled in, not realizing how she ripped the dress as she did so, and curled into herself to let herself cry.

[Relos]

Jan 2, 2010 12:17:52 GMT -7 Lord Woodrow said:

Hm, he had never been so off before. He didn't even guess specifically, not by city or by country - he couldn't get it right by continent? He was getting busty. Rusty. Rusty is what he meant to think. Then again, that was probably the reason he was so rusty, he was thinking about Tehodis. He turned to look at her again, only to find that she had disappeared from sight. She wasn't where she had been, and he couldn't see her noticeably blue dress within the crowd of dancing, drinking and talking.

"Where I'm from?" He turned back, taking a sip of his drink as he did so. If the boy wasn't so young, Woodrow would have shook his head and clicked his tongue at the fact that he did not know who he was. Everyone seemed to know who he was. But at that age - couldn't be too old, maximum of eighteen, Woodrow decided - a young boy didn't pay attention to news. A young boy paid attention to doing stupid things and girls. Even Woodrow had gone through such a phase, not that he would ever admit to it. To everyone else, even as a young boy he was a dedicated hard worker.

"I'm from Submiere, of course. Born, raised and still there after all these years," He smiled at the physical memory of the smell and feeling of cold salt water. He doubted he could ever live away from the sea. "The most beautiful place in the world," He assured, sipping away at his drink as salt water filled his nostrils with it's imagined scent.

"My name is Lord Woodrow," Markus told him, proffering his hand to shake, "Perhaps you have heard of me?"

Relos had a feeling that something he said must have upset this man. The man had kept taking glances at the dance floor, possibly trying to find someone just like Relos had done when he first did it. He didn't seem frantic, but he did look disappointed. He had told Relos that he came from Submiere. Wasn't that the place that was almost totally underwater? His father may have mentioned it a few times, but Relos just couldn't remember the specfics.

Then the man introduced himself as Lord Woodrow, and now Relos knew some specifics. Back in, he had often heard of the man who was leading the sinking of various pirate ships. That was probably part of the reason that his weapons had been taken during his trip to Aissic, out of fear of piracy on his part, although it was more likely just standard ruling. Since Woodrow had offered, Relos shook his hand.

"Yes, I've heard of you. My name is Relos Voden, though I doubt you've heard of me." He figured that while he was here, chatting with a noble, it would be nice to carry on the conversation as long as possible. "So, is there anyone in particular you're waiting for?"

[Skylar]

While Jinx preferred to eat all she could while she could, Skylar gathered the foods he wanted to snack on and put them on a plate, which he then carried around while trying to find a table that had nobody at it, or atleast didn't have many people. Most of them were completely full and quite a few of them had couples or small groups sitting at them, but eventually he found a table that only had one person at it and he made his way in that direction. He put his food down on the opposite side of the table from the man, so as to not intrude on his personal space or some such thing, and started eating his food. He had forgotten quite how long ago he had last eaten, but by the response of his stomach he was fairly certain it had been quite some time ago. No wonder Jinx was pigging out.

((See how much muse I don't have for him? He needs to be killed so he can stop killing my will to write. >.<))

[Ichabod Afof]

Jan 8, 2010 17:48:22 GMT -7 Skylar said:

While Jinx preferred to eat all she could while she could, Skylar gathered the foods he wanted to snack on and put them on a plate, which he then carried around while trying to find a table that had nobody at it, or atleast didn't have many people. Most of them were completely full and quite a few of them had couples or small groups sitting at them, but eventually he found a table that only had one person at it and he made his way in that direction. He put his food down on the opposite side of the table from the man, so as to not intrude on his personal space or some such thing, and started eating his food. He had forgotten quite how long ago he had last eaten, but by the response of his stomach he was fairly certain it had been quite some time ago. No wonder Jinx was pigging out.

As he observed the room, wondering what was going on in a noisy corner but not caring enough to move, he caught sight of someone coming towards him. A boy, young, with purple hair that made Ichabod certain that he was likely not a human; and if he was not a human there was the large chance that he was far older than he looked, which gave him double the amount of interest in Ichabod's mind. Children liked stories told to them, and most certainly adults had lived long enough to learn of their own stories...

Before he realized he was actually acting on his impulse, he was getting out of his chair and walking to the other side of the table. His reactions were working faster than him today... He would have to work on that. "Why hello there young man," Ichabod greeted smoothly, taking the seat next to Skylar and snagging a grape off of his very full plate. "I have a question for you. A riddle. Though I suppose it will be quite simply for you." He paused to steal another grape and chew it, looking at Skylar with his mostly weak peripheral vision. "Now, here it is," He began, swallowing and turning to look at the purple haired manchild, "When is a child not a child?"

[Skylar]

Skylar had been expecting the man to act like pretty much everyone else in the world. After all, very few people cared to take a second look at a child, let alone acknowledge his existence or go so far as to talk to him. Well, few adults at any rate. At any rate, he had given the man ample space because he had assumed that he, like most others, would see a child and then ignore him. That was not that case, though, and before he knew it the man was next to him, sitting in the chair beside him and greeting him, calling him 'young man' no less. Skylar observed him warily; it wouldn't be the first time someone had tried to con him because he was a kid.

But the man wasn't there to con him, or atleast not immediately. Instead he snatched a grape from his plate, which caused Skylar to grimace slightly and move the plate away from the man. He didn't like people touching the food that he was going to be eating. Who knew when the last time the man had washed his hands was, or if he had some crazy disease that Skylar was now going to get by eating any of the foods near where his hand had been.

The man mentioned he had a question, or rather a riddle, for Skylar, which he supposed would be easy for him. What was he playing at? Apparently stealing another grape, which he did before speaking again. Skylar wondered if the man would get mad at him if he told him to go get his own darn food. "When is a child not a child?" Was that a trick question? He eyed the man suspiciously. "When it's not human. What do you want?"

[Ichabod Afof]

"Very good," Ichabod smiled, noting the look in the boy's eyes that told Ichabod not to take any more of his food. That would be fine by him, of course. He wasn't very big on fruit. He was more a meat guy. A people meat guy. "You might be surprised, but so many people don't seem to understand the question. I suppose though, that you've lived the question - and for quite some time I would assume." For all Ichabod knew, he was entirely wrong and the boy was in fact human. Perhaps he didn't know humans as well as he thought, and in fact they could have purple hair. Ichabod doubted his doubts, however. This boy didn't seem like a human child just from the mannerisms alone.

"And to answer your question, what I want is to tell you a story. I think you might appreciate. I know children love stories period and I know that men love my kind of story and since you're just in between," Ichabod reached over and poked Skylar's nose, gauging his reaction to it for later, "I'm sure you'll love it... So, would you like a tall tale direct from the lips of the best storyteller of the age?"

[Lord Woodrow]

"No one in particular, really," Woodrow said absent-mindedly, glancing about for the trace of blue that was oh-so lovely. He heard some ruckus over by a drink stand, but took no notice of it. He couldn't possibly imagine Tehodis to be the kind of girl who would get herself into a noisy, noticeable debacle like that. Not only did Woodrow think her far too sweet for such a thing, but surely she would know that it had the possibility of gathering plenty of bad PR for the Headquarters.

He turned back to the boy, feeling slightly guilty that he was being so rude. Sure, the boy did not appear to be anyone to care about being rude to, but still it made Woodrow think of the chances. If the boy was someone important's son, then Woodrow could be putting himself in a bad situation. "I'm sorry, I'm being so distant... I suppose," He sighed slightly, turning his front to the counter and leaning forwards on the surface. He looked the other way briefly, seeing someone standing drinking quietly. Woodrow felt as though he might recognize him, and tried for a few moments to place it, but then he gave up and turned back to Relos.

"I suppose I lied to you. Not entirely. I'm not really waiting for anybody... I'm looking for someone that I wish to look at. You're a teenager, so I'll assume that you've had girl troubles of your own. I'm sorry to say they only seem to get worse as you get older. Time starts running low and you have to find just the right girl. I've found her, but she would rather go alone to the Ball than with me. What kind of woman likes to go to balls alone? Not any that I could possibly think of... Not when they have a choice in the matter. That's how much she seems to not reciprocate my feelings." He rubbed his temples, feeling like an idiot as he ordered another scotch. "I apologize for pouring out my heart, but sometimes you just have to get things off your chest."

[Skylar]

Skylar inched to the edge of his seat farthest away from the man, watching him warily and occasionally glancing at his plate of food. He had just wanted to get a free meal and maybe do some people-watching, and then here comes this weird guy who steals his grapes and seems to have absolutely no regard for personal space, something which was amply demonstrated when the man poked Skylar's nose. That's right, he just reached over and poked it. Skylar pulled back so fast he nearly fell out of his chair.

He regained his balance in enough time to hear the remainder of the sentence and he had to admit that although the guy sort of freaked him out, and he had stolen his grapes and touched his food with his dirty nasty fingers that could have been anywhere and now the germs were on his food and he couldn't eat anything that he had put on his plate because it was probably contaminated with some weird disease that creepy men got and... And he was having a bit of a mental freak-out, clearly.

Skylar found himself nodding, completely against his will. "I suppose," he muttered, feeling as though his age had betrayed his mind. Stupid boyish delight in hearing stories.

[Relos]

Now the conversation was getting more interesting. Relos had an interest in romance, though he himself was not experienced in that matter. He did have girl "problems", but that was more of conflict than of romantic troubles. First there was that zombie girl, then there was that other girl that landed him in some serious trouble. Aissic was quite the troublesome place, so being here was a good change of pace, or rather a return to the usual one. But, Woodrow, a noble, was giving out personal information to him, a nobody. Best not to read too much into that fact, so it would be for the best to simply take this conversation as casually as possible.

"No worries, I don't mind," Relos told Woodrow. "I have had some girl 'problems', but I assure you they weren't in any way related to romance. From what I've heard, you're quite the hero, dealing with those pirates. She should be wanting a man of your status." Relos felt like he had just thrown himself into a corner, sugar-coating his words to sound like a kiss-ass pansy trying to make him feel good. "Erm, sorry if that was a little too much," he continued awkwardly. "I just...I hope things work out for you." Oh, how stupidly embarrassing that was. He asked for some apple cider and waited for Woodrow's response.

[Ichabod Afof]

Ichabod grinned his usual toothy grin at the answer he received, leaning back in his chair slightly before quickly moving forwards and using the momentum to push the chair backwards and himself to a standing position. "Well, this little one here..." He began, gesturing to the little girl snacking not very far away that had a not very... humanoid way of consuming food, "I will assume that you own a Grimalkin? What's it's name? Oh, nevermind, names aren't so important. A good story can hold it's own water. Mine - not to completely toot my own horn - are good. More than. Ask many past audience members."

Ichabod's stomach grumbled and churned lightly, the few grapes preparing it to digest an entree and willing him to move as quickly as possible to get himself to such a climax. Within the confines of his genius mind (not, of course, to toot his own horn again) he began the ravelling of a plan. A plan that would end in the spilling of a hundred years worth of stories from a boy young enough to be taut and old enough to be knowledgeable.

"Now, I'm not sure if you know the theories surrounding such creatures - the many varieties and... flavours. I'm sure you know of their ability to speak into the mind, the transformation - I'm sure you know the second since the beast is sitting right there as a little girl - unless I'm horribly mistake and that is in fact your sister. If so, many apologies. I, however, do not believe I am wrong. And thus, I shall continue in my tellings," He paused, aiming to reach for another grape before deciding he did not want to ruin his ravenous appetite, "There is a rumour that a Grimalkin has the strange ability to do something very horrible, very horrific, very... well, not to be cynical... But very interesting. Very, very interesting."

Time for the rook to begin it's course. Ichabod gracefully slid out from between the table and his pushed out chair and moved (cat-like) to behind the very chair he had pushed out, sliding it back in place as if it were on smooth ice. "There is something you should know about me," Ichabod smiled, I am a demon, I am a cannibal, I am very -- very -- hungry. "I am a sucker for a good audience. A huge audience. Which is something you might think would make me want to be as loud as possible. This is the biggest gala of the year, yes?"

He paused, letting the rhetorical question go by and he looked about conspiratorially, leaning in to whisper to the purple-headed boy, "There is something else, though. I like to have just the perfect audience, and perfect audiences are very hard to come by in such a large crowd. Yes, I want my name spread about, but I want it to hold the highest respect - like Daisy Wright of The Tablet kind of fame, without the death threats and murderous intent." On their part at least. "I have given private showings before. To Tristan Cowell, Markus Woodrow. Big names. They spread my name around, and they get entertainment - but big names aren't what it's all about. People like you (he pressed his finger into Skylar's chest from behind)... I don't know what it is, but I realize how special and important and audience member you will be. I just can't let that go, and I can't let your enjoyment be clouded by anyone else's... So..." He let his hands rest of Skylar's shoulders for a moment before removing them abruptly and heading for the closest of the many huge, arched window that (when opened like a door) would lead out to one of the myriad of balconies. He looked back as if holding a very tantalizing secret and gestured for Skylar to follow him out through the door where he slowly, but surely, began his descent on the stone steps,

Three... two...

[Skylar]

Skylar listened with interest as the man assumed, correctly, that he was in possession of a Grimalkin and went on to ask its nam,then decide it didn't matter, then mention how incredible his stories were. Not, of course, to 'toot his own horn' so to speak. He then continued, by talking about the things Grimalkins could do,leading into something they could do that was horrific, and horrible, and very, very interesting. Skylar waited for the man to tell him what it was, but he did no such thing. He stopped and instead went on a completely different track, informing Skylar that he liked good audiences,and perfect audiences, and how he had told his stories to famous people. Then he poked Skylar in the chest, while standing behind him, and as much as Skylar wanted to tell him to stop that, he couldn't deny that he really wanted to hear what it was that Grimalkins could supposedly do and if he got mad at the man, surely he would decide not to finish the story that he had already diverted from.

So he sucked it up, even when the man rested his hands on his shoulders. Yes, his dirty, thieving hands were on Skylar's shoulders. It was almost physically painful to think about. Ew. And then, as though the man could possibly annoy Skylar more, he skipped away to the doors to the balcony, just taunting him with the one sentence he had yet to say. What could Grimalkins do? He wanted to know, and he wanted to know now, and that man was just stringing him along. Very well. As long as he finished his story eventually, Skylar could live with a little suspense. So he got up and followed the man out, leaving his food on the table and deciding that once he got back inside he would simply get an entire new plate, because who knew who would touch his food while he was gone.

[Ichabod Afof]

He didn't look back to check if the boy was following the moment he had begun to descend the stone steps. That would just ruin the effect. It would ruin Ichabod's control. If Ichabod were to turn around and look to see if he was being followed, he would look desperate. He would look like he needed the boy to come. He did, of course. He was quite hungry and the boy was the easiest target at the ball. He had the very thing that made children oh so enticing: curiosity. Still, he lacked the thing that most children had that led Ichabod to go after women instead: Weak, flabby tissue from lack of experience and muscle. There was nothing in their flesh, no taste of a life yet. This boy wasn't like the dime a dozen humans. He was much older, yet did not yet have the rough, sinewy taste of man. Instead, he would be like the treat of a smooth, milky chocolate.

"So this happened to a friend of a friend of mine, and my friend told me about this incredible discovery only weeks ago and I've been dying to share it ever since," He began, still not turning to see if Skylar was there. Instead he counted that the footsteps on the stone paths of the garden he was just beginning to navigate were those of the child. If it wasn't, then Ichabod had been misguided and didn't deserve such a meal tonight. "She told me that her very good gal-pal in Malscure had just had a baby. A beautiful specimen, in fact. Healthy, glowing skin - not literally of course - lovely, inquisitive grey eyes and a temperament like no other. A right gift."

The noise had severely decreased by now. Ichabod could no longer hear the tell-tale sounds of the loud music from within. His ear tuned to no conversations being had nearby and even the cackling laughter of the - recently drunk - high class women had disappeared to let for a perfect stage to spin his stories. Ichabod set his sights and sounds on the trickling of a fountain in an area connected to by four separate paths. Four benches sat against hedges decked with sparkling tinsel leftover from yuletide cheer and roses charmed rather than grown. The light of the moon and glittering of burning stars oh-so far in the distance lit his stage and he moved towards the fountain, admiring how the water flowed through the stone spouts and bowls.

"She also had another treat, this woman. A young Grimalkin, made to pure bred perfection. Silky black fur, a knowledge of even the most ancient of languages. Her and her husband were so perfectly happy. They had everything, after all. Beautiful house, new baby daughter and the prime house pet that could double as a baby sitter. They had a good life, and they were good people. And bad things don't happen to good people, do they?" He stared at his reflection in the water, his hands curling around the edge. The tips of his fingers dangled in the water, cooling him. Cooling his nerves. Cooling his mind. The water allowed the ball inside of his stomach unravel. Nervousness, He thought, slightly bemused, That's different. Ichabod was not typically one to feel the tight, sickening ball of nervousness. He was comfortable in front of a crowd, he was comfortable all alone. Then again, children were very different from women. Boys were different than girls. He wasn't used to seducing boy children into his stomach. He couldn't use his good looks or his charming smile. His words would have to do all the work.

And then he turned abruptly, spinning to face his audience that he wasn't even one hundred percent sure was watching him. Before taking note of whether or not the subject of his culinary fantasies had in fact kept in attendance, he asked a hypothetical question of the neither here-nor-there audience: "Alas, that never seems to be the case, does it?"

[Skylar]

When the man started telling his story again, hopefully back on the actual track of what Grimalkins could do that was so horrible, Skylar listened intently and tried to go down the steps faster to catch up. He was slightly disappointed when the man started talking about some girl who had a kid who was adorable, but then as he got off the steps and started following the man on flat ground he was happy to hear that this was a part of the real story after all. The woman evidently also had a Grimlakin, which was where he assumed this got interesting.

When they reached a water fountain, the man mentioned that bad things didn't happen to good people, did they? Suddenly he turned and Skylar took an instinctive step back, but it turns out he hadn't a reason to worry and the man simply went on with his tale, telling Skylar that, alas, that was never the case. It was true though, that bad things quite often happened to perfectly good people, and he had a bad feeling about that pure bred Grimalkin. He had a bad feeling indeed. His mind ran ahead to try to figure out what the ending would be. Maybe the Grimalkin would be babysitting the baby, but then accidentally burn the whole house down? No, that wouldn't be a very good ending. Maybe the Grimalkin scratched the baby and they had to get rid of it? Also not a very good ending. This was probably why he wasn't the one telling the story.

[Ichabod Afof]

"Bad things do happen to good people, it just seems to be the wicked way of the world," Are you a good person? Ichabod thought of the boy, wondering curiously of what the boy had done in his life. He wondered if he would bother to ask, if he would delay the end to hear his stories. The way his stomach clenched at nothing had him think better of it, though. He needed to eat soon, he needed his tastes to be met. We all know what happens to good people. The wicked take advantage of them.

"The beautiful parents left their even more beautiful child in the care of their intelligent Grimalkin, letting it take the form of an adult human, able to care for the smiling, curious wonder while the parents went out for a romantic dinner that had been long deserved." Ichabod took a small step forward, a falsely tentative step that had him looking around confidentially as he did so. The act had to be perfect. "When they arrived home, however, they found something quite amiss. They called out for the Grimalkin, softly, then louder. There was no answer floating to their ears, instead a pure and irrevocable silence. It was in that moment that they saw a smashed window, angrily defaced next to the room they held their child. They rushed towards the door with a fervour only found in parents searching for a lost child. They slammed into the door, letting it shoot open to reveal something they had not been prepared to see..." He had been speaking faster and faster, leading to a point many would suspect to be a climax. He paused dramatically, continuing to lead on the assumption that an impressive climax would be coming next...

Instead his next words were quiet, so quiet in fact that an audience had to come closer to hear all the details. "The nursery was quiet but for the minute sounds of a sleeping baby. Everything was in one piece, everything was left alone and untouched. The couple went to their child, running a hand down the precious face of their... 'angel of perfection'. And they were relieved. Everything was fine. Well, at least until they came to the realization that the Grimalkin had disappeared. The only trace of the creature was a patch of black fur that was caught on the smashed window."

Ichabod let his story dwindle a bit, falling into the category of 'boring' before he turned the tables and brought it to what the story was really about. First, however, he turned back to the fountain and let his hands clench the sides once again, making it appear as though he was finished. Instead, however, he waited for a word from his solitary audience. Once he heard a peep, he would turn around and continue. For now, he would wait to hear the disappointment at what Ichabod had told. After all, he had not explained why Grimalkins were so untrustworthy, so cruel...

[Skylar]

Skylar had to admit, the guy was a genius storyteller. He probably had a huge fan following or something, because he could really spin a tale. As much as he didn't want to be interested in the story or the man, mainly from leftoever annoyance that he had not only touched, but stolen Skylar's food earlier, he found himself enthralled. That was, until the ending came and the only thing that happened was the grimalkin ran away and left the baby unattended. Was that supposed to be why they were untrustworthy? They ran away while looking after babies? That wasn't interesting at all. What a waste of time. He was hungry and instead of getting himself some more food, he had come down here to listen to a crap story about a grimalkin running away. What a joke. "You should probably work on that ending. Anyway, I'm hungry so I'm going back to the party." Besides, Jinx was probably wondering where he had run off to.

[Ichabod Afof]

Ichabod smiled. People always seemed so quick to just accept endings such as that. They just said, 'Oh, that was anti-climatic' and went about there way. They didn't question things. Most didn't, at least. People didn't stop to ask 'why?', people didn't stop to ask 'hey, it shouldn't end that way' and that's why people seemed so easy to entertain. Why people were such a dismissable part of the world. Some were fantastic. Some questioned everything brought before them. They didn't believe in coincidences, in endings. Things kept going, after all. There never was a definite and final end.

"I didn't say it was over," Ichabod smiled, turning about and saying oh-so much with a small glitter in his unnatural eyes. The fact that the boy just took things as they came to him, gave Ichabod more reason to find his death unavoidable. The first reason was that Ichabod's stomach cramped and growled, begging for something with sustenance to fill itself with, but still the reason that he just didn't question life... That was all the more reason why he should be proven that ends don't get tied up, and they most certainly aren't left happy.

Ichabod moved towards the escaping meal, lightly grabbing his wrist and gracefully pulling him into a small hedge alcove where there was really no place for the boy to escape. Not that he likely would yet. Ichabod kept a proper distance between himself and the boy, though still managing to block the preferred route of escape - he would not be intimidating, and he would not offer a way out. There was also the fact that the Demon was quite sure no one would want to leave before they heard the conclusion of his tale, and thus he went on: "The couple went on with their child, distressed at the missing pet, which they assumed was stolen. They put up signs, offered a reward. They didn't go to the great lengths that they would for their beautiful baby, but they did try... Credit ought to given for such efforts."

"Days passed, followed by weeks and months and seasons. They had long since forgotten the cat. By now they were far more concerned about the growth and health of their beautiful child, whom - they had not noticed until now - had remarkable eyes that seemed to show some sort of wisdom unnatural for one so young. Similar to you in fact. You look so young, and yet your eyes... It's the reason you look so... (Tasty) Special."

"The child grew into a beautiful young girl, who's loveliness was truly unmatched throughout Malscure. She had gentlemen callers almost constantly. Despite her beauty, she was intelligent - which is oft a fictional combination only seen in the most uninspired heroines. She did have a notable fault, however. Three, in fact. She was not a drop modest, and she demanded attention at all times... And her eyes. Those eyes would stare and burrow and blink and see. See things that she should not have been able to see..."

He drifted off, staring at Skylar as if adding emphasis to the fact that certain eyes could see things that other pairs could not. Ichabod's eyes burrowed and stared, going ever unblinking for times that seemed unhuman. That, he supposed, was not a comparison at all. He wasn't human. He was not in blood, and he was not in thought. He was not in appearance, and he was not in action. And he would reiterate this point. As soon as the story was finished.

[Lord Woodrow]

Jan 29, 2010 22:56:47 GMT -7 Relos said:

Now the conversation was getting more interesting. Relos had an interest in romance, though he himself was not experienced in that matter. He did have girl "problems", but that was more of conflict than of romantic troubles. First there was that zombie girl, then there was that other girl that landed him in some serious trouble. Aissic was quite the troublesome place, so being here was a good change of pace, or rather a return to the usual one. But, Woodrow, a noble, was giving out personal information to him, a nobody. Best not to read too much into that fact, so it would be for the best to simply take this conversation as casually as possible.

"No worries, I don't mind," Relos told Woodrow. "I have had some girl 'problems', but I assure you they weren't in any way related to romance. From what I've heard, you're quite the hero, dealing with those pirates. She should be wanting a man of your status." Relos felt like he had just thrown himself into a corner, sugar-coating his words to sound like a kiss-ass pansy trying to make him feel good. "Erm, sorry if that was a little too much," he continued awkwardly. "I just...I hope things work out for you." Oh, how stupidly embarrassing that was. He asked for some apple cider and waited for Woodrow's response.

Woodrow didn't particularly understand why he was saying such silly things to someone he didn't know at all. He hardly said these things to Vincent, and that man was his confidant. Instead of speaking to his right hand man, he stood here, attempting to drown his sorrows and pouring out his heart to a boy who might very well leak this gossip to a number of people who would spread it around and ruin his reputation. A single word could ruin everything, after all.

It was that notion that hit him, perhaps a little too late, and caused him to use a drink to stifle any further words he might have. Instead, he concentrated on... well, anything else. The slight burn of the alcohol running down his throat, the music thaty pulsed through the room, the man standing just over-

"Excuse me," Woodrow began, turning to face the man who stood not too far away; eavesdropping, watching. He was tall, had the stance of a military man - something which brought a foul taste to his Lordship's mouth. "May I help you? You appear to have been listening in on our conversation." The clothes the man wore made Woodrow think of the modern style. It hinted that the man was likely from Artavia, though for all he knew the spy had simply been enamoured by the look. He would find out soon enough, he supposed.

[Major Tommy Dunn]

In all honesty, Tom had not considered that Lord Woodrow would take unkindly to him simply sitting there and watching the goings-on of the ball. Yes, he was listening in. Still, it didn't look as though he was listening in, now did it? In his mind, Tom cursed ever so slightly. First impressions were important, and he had messed this one up... Well, He thought briskly, trying to think on his feet before he said a word, I suppose it can easily be salvaged.

"Listening in?" Tom forced his voice to a place where it sounded as though her were just about to laugh. He turned towards Woodrow, trying to read the man's famed poker face with a smile. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. I was much more focused on (he inconspicuously quickly glanced at the rest of the ball before pin-pointing the correct diversion) those two women there. The ones that were fighting? It was quite the scene, hm?" He had no idea what the women had been fighting about, but he had seen two women arguing before the crowd closed in a tight, entertained circle.

"But while I have your attention," Tom continued, turning away from the scene that had come and gone like all gossip did, "I suppose I could take the opportunity to explain why I was over here in the first place - it does have to do with you after all. I was just awaiting your conversation with this young man here to take a break... I have something you might be very much interested in. If you'll give me a moment? I'll even throw in a drink. Your's looks like it could use a topping off."

[Skylar]

When the man told him that he had never said the story was over, Skylar forced himself not to roll his eyes. If he hadn't wanted him to think the story was over, he shouldn't have stopped telling it. Besides, Skylar was actually starting to get really hungry and he wanted to go back inside to get some new food. Some food that no one else would be touching or stealing, least of all some man who told great stories but stopped randomly in the middle of them. When the man moved forward and took hold of his wrist, Skylar pulled away only in time to step right into the alcove the man had been leading him to. He stood there and eyed the man, noticing that although he was not quite invading his personal space, he was effectively blocking his way out. It was then that suspicion first crossed his mind.

He was distracted when the man continued his story, but by the time he reached the part where he mentioned the girl's unusually intelligent eyes, he could guess the ending. He was also hungry, and beginning to feel the need to get back to the party, where there were lots of people around to witness anything that were to happen. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, conscious of the man's eyes on him as he continued telling his tale. He had gotten to the part where he was describing what a gorgeous, albeit attention-hogging, girl the baby had grown into, and mentioning again how strange and different her eyes were. Ooh, aah. When the man dropped off into silence at the end of a sentence, Skylar took his chance.

"I should really be getting back," he told the man as he inched toward him and the only way out. "Jinx is probably looking for me by now." He was fairly certain the grimalkin wouldn't be looking for him, but maybe if the man knew that there would be someone who would miss him if he didn't come back, he wouldn't... well, Skylar didn't even know if this man even had any malicious intentions. He had a creepy feeling about him though. He just didn't trust the guy. He had almost reached the way out when he made a dash for it...

[Ichabod Afof]

Well that was no fun.

There was little more that annoyed Ichabod than someone who did not wait to hear a conclusion. The only thing that likely peeved him moreso were people who just skipped straight to the ending. Of course, that would seem a little hypocritical now, since the boy was trying to run off... Ichabod would have to jump straight to the ending, no matter how much it pained him to do so. So he waited a few moments, standing for a second, possibly two. A frown placed precariously on his lips as he watched the boy attempt to run back towards the building. That would not work.

And so, Ichabod jumped to his duty brought upon by his slave-driving stomach. He stepped forth and dashed after the boy, holding the advantage due to his longer and more well-muscled legs. Legs that would not taste as good as Ichabod was quite sure the boy's would. His would taste more like a woman's. Soft, supple, yet still aged to the point of perfect tenderness. The thought of it made his mouth water and legs work ever-so-slightly harder.

They had only made it a couple of hedges, and it was still deserted - and so now Ichabod took his chance. He lunged forward, sending his weight to the boy as he reached forward to wrap his arms tightly around his neck and shoulders. He pulled back, holding the Aquen in a (likely painful) chokehold. "As time went on the couple determined that," He held on tighter as he felt the struggle beneath him, the writhing muscles of the prey beneath the predator, his voice was breathy as he worked for his supper, "They ought to have a second child. The little girl... woman... she did not like that... Not one bit," With the last word he pulled up more, waiting for the struggle to end. He did not want a dead manchild. Just an unconcious one he could bring to his... special place.

"I suppose I'll have to tell you more later," Ichabod smiled, slightly out of breath as his heart pounded excitedly and he loosened his grip ever so slightly. He still kept a hold, all too familiar with fantastic actresses whom thought they could trick him into letting his guard down. He would never admit his mistakes, but he had learned from them, and so he kept his arms wrapped, waiting for any final movement. If he felt none, he would leave the area before the final chime of midnight, and go to have the first good meal he'd had in what he deemed far too long.

(ooc: Ahahaha, how ironic. Skylar is hoping to go and get some more food because he's hungry, and he's going to wind up as food for Ichabod )