Act II, Scene II; The Belmont Christmas Masquerade Ball.

[Isis.]

Black Tie; Costumed Masquerade
7:00 PM ~ 12:30 AM
2nd December 2007
Hotel Peninsula
New York, U.S.A

Christmas season in New York.

Giant Christmas trees, decked in twinkling lights. Lights that broke the darkness, illuminating snow that dropped like pearls from the heavens. Music played—merry music loaded with recollections of Christmas season long gone. The smell of food and bags and packages and perfume all mixed together to create a festive atmosphere, encrusted with beaming street lamps, tinsel and holly.

Lonely.

It was lonely.

The season had just begun, but the preparations were early this year. This year would be the most amazing Christmas that New York would have to offer, and Ms. Brinkley looked out at the world within the tinted windows of the Belmont Limousine.

You see the stars are moving so slowly
But still the earth is moving so fast;
Can't you see the moon is so lonely
She's still trapped in the pain of the past…

“Claire—” At the last possible moment, she had turned to her friend, while they were still in the Belmont Mansion, shielded hurt behind midnight eyes. “Send away an invitation for Jonathan… and…” She could hardly bear to say his name, but she forced a laugh, settling easily for the formal equivalent. “And Mr. Mardik.”

This is the time of the worlds colliding
This is the time of kingdoms falling
This is the time of the worlds dividing
Time to heed your call—

Had it been a mistake?

For now, her heart pounded like it hadn’t in such a long time. Not only would this be the night that she would introduce her “killer” and her plea for his life, but she would bare her soul, tell them the truth… and she knew that she would have to stare squarely into the pain that would undoubtedly scream from each members’ gazes.

Fingerprints were made, as she rested her hand against the window, droplets from the snow trailing past, like tears…

She could not go inside yet.

The ballroom that was to be used was beautiful. The Hotel Peninsula itself was beautiful. Roa had glanced at the room earlier in the afternoon—and had found a Christmas tree that reached for the floor above, decorated and ornamented in gorgeous frippery. Gold, red, and green sashes were flung around the large room—and everything sparkled, gleamed, and shined. Orchids bloomed in expensive vases, and the floor was polished to the point of reflection.

Still… could she stomach what was to come? And what would come? Tears, anger… hatred?

From the window to her throat, fingers slid down her neck, as she swallowed. A black curl fell loose, touching the tip of her nose, and absentmindedly, she swept it back into place. Her eyes were wide in anticipation and… fear?

You can do this, Brinkley.

Brinkley. She was a Brinkley.

The onyx glinted, as if to remind her, and listlessly, she took it off, tucking it within her deep green clutch. Hidden within the shadows, Roa watched as cars began to arrive. Her breath caught—the faces were so familiar, and for a few seconds, she fought back tears. Yet all the while she laughed within herself—she was being absurd. And still… she was shocked. Shocked at herself, shocked at the tears that caused her lashes to glimmer, shocked at seeing their faces once again.

Her gloved left hand grasped delicately, the green stick of her glittering mask. A deep breath—a moment’s shuteye; and she opened the door of the limousine.

Red-slippered feet touched the snow-painted path, and her skirts kissed the ground. Hand still slightly trembling, she almost struggled to push the door shut, and only succeeded with a shove of her hip. A costumed masque?

A rose.

A rose by any other name…

Will still sting as bitterly.

The ball gown was stained a darkly intense scarlet, skirts and petticoats of crisp silk, tulle, and chiffon, layered and tossed in careless artistry, a mimicry of rose-petals, strewn with tiny diamonds that served as dewdrops. Dark green lace snaked up her left arm, a stem that stopped just off-shoulder. Silken black waves were pinned softly, resting in a dark aureole that framed her masked face.

The dark green mark served almost as a safeguard for Roa. One hand holding the crimson layers from the ground, the other holding the mask, she silently swanned up the stairs, her presence still and willingly discreet. It was close to cutting her—being so near to them all, yet so far away. At midnight, they would remove the masks, and all would be revealed. But for the hours yet to breathe through…

Classical music flounced along, lively music that sparked of elegance and tinkling champagne. The light of the chandeliers struck the silver glitter on her sun-touched complexion. Waiters walked past, holding trays of various finger-foods, and already, there were quite a number of people there. Though they chatted and laughed, they were forbidden to reveal identities until the twelfth hour.

Breathe, Cinderella.

Just breathe.

She stood by the entrance, the red of her dress and the green spiralling her left arm, shrieking boldly against the white double doors.

She stood by the entrance, alone… in every way.

This is the time of the worlds colliding
This is the time of kingdoms falling…

[Halèn Montroyes]

Swans.
Black.The Most Mysterious colour of them all.

The rhythmical sounds of heels, Clopped against the pavement.

Estella recollected the call she had received some weeks back from Claire. Claire requested that she attend a costume, masquerade ball on December 2nd.
December 2nd being tonight.

Delicate fingers grasped the stick on which, a white mask rested at the top. Two glimmering, black swan-like feathers protruded away from the mask creating an arch-like shape.
The other hand, clasping a part of her sleek black dress. With each step it glisten a midnight blue. While brushing the floor it hugged her slender hips tightly, but it widened as it got nearer to the floor. A tangy orange coloured gem was hugging her middle finger, dancing and glistening in the light.

Wow. I’m so nervous.

Be Elegant Essie. And remember no giving away your identity.

Gracefully stepping through the widened doors of the hotel Peninsula, she brought her mask up to her face. Two Electric green eyes eagerly peered around. Lashes fluttering.
A bouncy yet elegant tune echoed through the ballroom, as the small orchestral band played.
And a large, banquet-like table was clothed with platters and platters of exquisite and colourful food. A large Christmas tree towered up into the roof, draped in beautiful decorations-much like the ballroom.

Her glossy lips smiled, at the thought of being at such an elegant gathering.

After seeing the place, she decided that talking with charm and big words, and sticking her pinkie finger out while drinking champagne, was very necessary.

Her bronzed complexion, and long head of jet-black curls (Shoulder blade length) indicated only a slight change of appearance over the three years passed.

After a while she waited for somewhere to approach her… Maybe even ask her to dance, and a woman in a beautiful Rose red dress swept through the double doors. Accompanied by another.

They looked nice enough.

I know Shallow Essie. But looks are all I can rely on right now.

Boldly making her way across the ballroom, she stepped towards the Rose.

“Sweet Costume.” a genuine smile appeared on her face.

“Not to be rude or anything…But what are you? I’m a black swan.”

Her Emerald eyes widened. Curiosity glistening inside them.

Essie.

[Isis.]

Is that you, Estella?

Lips curled into a gentle smile and Roa paused before answering. If it was indeed Estella, the girl had an uncanny knack for accompanying those who were alone, not only physically…

“Just your common red rose.” A laugh, and her eyes washed over Estella’s attire. “A black swan…” her brooding tone twirled into one of blitheness. “You look beautiful, I must admit.”

The girl’s dark complexion did almost give it away—and Roa knew that the ball held was strictly for Set Two Seven members. Comfort in surety loosened the anxious grip on her mask, and she breathed just a little easier.

People continued to drift past, and Roa shifted tactfully indoors, to keep out of the way. So many people… so many faces. She turned back to Estella.

“There are so many… I wonder who has shown, tonight.” Of course, she did not expect Estella to know—she had informed Claire not to give any details, merely an invitation. The members were not expecting to see their comrades of three years ago—especially anyone affiliated with the words Set Two Seven.

She could most see her reflection on the marble floor. It had been so long since she had been in such luxury… and it would be a while before she would, again. The dress itself was loaned. Roa was not bankrupt, but with her main sources of income gone, the small fortune was bound to dwindle away.

A wry smile.

Perhaps I should have married rich, like papa had always suggested…

She stood, now, by the wall, near the entrance, her view splashing over each figure that entered, random guesses streaming from her mind. And though she breathed a little easier, her heart continued to pound, so loudly that she would not have been surprised if Estella had heard.

There were those who were already dancing, graceful flashes of colours billowing like ribbons in the breeze. The orchestra was talented indeed—Claire had spent her money well. And how the people danced... it was mostly the ladies' masks that had ribbons with which to tie them around their heard with while dancing.

“If we had to dance with the stick in hand... how terrible it would be… if one was to drop their mask while dancing…"

[Actress*Angel]

'Just as I expected..'

The party had begun, and all Claire could do is wait to see everyone's face after they knew about Roa. What a night.

With her mask gold, with green trimming Claire quickly slid her way down her glass staircase, seeing all the glowing faces in the room, she couldn't exactly tell who was who yet. Let's strike conversation.

The orchestra was extravagant, never missing a beat on the beautiful music. Everyone was dancing; masks sealed.

This ball was going to either bring everyone together once again, or tear them a part. It's was a fifty percent chance of hope. We wern't all stubborn of course, but the majority would rule.

She didn't know where to start, it was so mixed up. She called everyone she was told to, including the two phone calls for Jonathan and Mardik; hopefully everyone came. They had to. They would just have to dream, and have a lot of faith to see what was to come tonight.

Claire knew what Roa was to look like, just like she had explained the day at the mansion; but others seemed vaguely familiar as if she could see through their masks.

But Roa was talking to someone. A girl. But what one?

Ah. Estella. Her voice was key.

Claire drifted past them both, slightly turning her head to Roa and caved in a smile.

I wonder how she will tell them.

[J.Gaebel]

New York City.

A place that always seemed to have some sort of event going on. Many clan wars have taken place within the confines of the city limits. But this time, the place was to be home for a more hopeful event. A masquerade ball, costumes, and hopefully tears of joy.

Judas Gaebel, Roa Brinkley’s supposed killer, had made it to this ball before the members of Set Two Seven. The words spoken to him whilst in Switzerland were taken seriously, maybe a bit too seriously.

“Black tie Judas. It’s a Christmas party…And please, don’t be tardy”

Well, there he waited. Standing beside the magnificent orchestra. His attire didn’t reflect his personality whatsoever. But, he still managed to take the formal look and add some flare. A nice white long sleeved shirt was partially covered by a black vest, lined in sky blue. Black dress pants, baggier than the usual formal look, gave him a more comfortable feel in the clothes. His dirty blonde, near brown, hair was spiked up. Then came his mask. Like the Phantom of the Opera, a solid white piece covered half of his face.

Emerald hued eyes swept across the ball room, the people currently seemed joyful, yet curious. It was only natural. Then his eyes fell upon the man behind a piano, adding some extra flavor to the orchestra playing. The corner of his own mouth quirked up some, then he proceeded towards the pianist.

“Excuse me sir, but do you care if I…”

“I really shouldn’t, but I don’t see any harm here. Have at it son”

The middle aged man behind the piano got up to leave the seat open. Judas soon sat behind the musical instrument. The band had just finished their current piece, and the next up on the list was “Holy Night”. Judas pointed to the notes set up before him, and the former pianist just gave a nod. A few seconds of musical silence passed then the orchestra started up with their beautiful piece of music.

Then Judas began to show a talent he had yet to let anybody else in RPGC see.

His fingers ran across the ivory keys. Each note hit with expert precision. The man who gave his spot up for Judas had a pleasantly surprised look on his face. But it went unnoticed. The Eldest Gaebel had a talent not associated with the typical run n gun environment he was accustomed to. The amount of concentration he put into his musical display seemed to block out everything else about the ball. He was lost in his own world.

Maybe…It felt good to let go of the politics. The constant worry of who is going to plant a knife in your back when you least expect it. It felt good to relax and enjoy his time while he could.

He’d have to thank Roa later.

[Tikal]

A white stretch limo pulled over, and from inside it, stepped out a tall Puerto Rican girl in a full length gown. Her head was down, and wavy locks that spilled from the elegantly done hairstyle splashed against her cheek.

A momentary sign of panic streaked across her face and she yelled at the chauffer to stop from driving away. Immediately after she did, she jumped back in the car before the chauffer could open the door for her, and looked for something that was apparently important. When she came out for the second time, over her face was a mask veiling her relieved expression, and she walked calmly towards the hotel.

Tia Velasquez had actually considered going to the ball driving her favorite form of transport -a motorbike- just for the sake of it. But as she considered it, going in a limo would save her from alot of embarrassment. Her dress had taken awhile to decide on, and although the theme did not sound very pretty, her clothes made it look just so.

It was based on a parrot.

Now, stop laughing.

Maybe it wasn't the most elegant species of birds, but if Tia were to be a bird, it would certainly be a parrot. Being loud and bright, when one of her friend suggested it, she felt stupid for not thinking of it herself.

You know what's the difference between you and me? I make this look good.

Her gown was off the shoulder and her 'sleeves' which were also off the shoulder were more like wisps of material of different shades of blue, that reminded one of feathers.

Her gloved hand grasped the handle of the door and she pulled it open strongly. Surprisingly, it wasn't as heavy as she had expected to be, and when her black ballet flats slipped from under her, she almost fell backwards.

Nice.

Tia stepped inside, and marveled the Hotel Peninsula. Her hand touched her ruby pendant which rested below her collar bone, and it slowly fell down the scrunchy white material which smoothed out to a skirt. The skirt looked like it had one big slit in the middle, with an underskirt. The only thing was, it also looked like it had 3 layers. The overskirt was 2 emerald green pieces of silk, which also resembled feathers and dragged softly on the ground. The underskirt howerver, was a full puffy skirt, which colors ranged from shades of red, orange and yellow.

There was beautiful orchestral music playing. A waiter came towards her, holding some rich food. She took one, and looked at it carefully. It looked like she'd eaten this somewhere... before... although she didn't usually eat this kind of food. Tia took a bite out of it and savored the taste.

Memories flooded her, and she was reminded where she had eaten it.

But no time to think about Roa Lacele Brinkley. She was gone, and even if there was a special place for her in Tia, she couldn't dwell on the past.

She almost dropped her mask as she noticed the Christmas tree. Although Tia had made 2 masks, she refrained from wearing the one with the silly grin she had shaped into it.

Tia looked up at the huge decorated tree. It was so... big. She had no idea how she didn't see it at first. Though she stood there for awhile, her eyes were drawn to 2 ladies standing near her. She was alone, so she might as well meet someone. No need to disturb anyone dancing.

Tia walked towards the one in the black dress.

" Hello, I'm- I mean, isn't this a beautiful place?"

Good one Tia. You almost spilled it. And you sound like a weirdo.

[Halèn Montroyes]

Swans.
Black.The Most Mysterious colour of them all.

…

“Just your common red rose. I must say you look beautiful.”

"Thanks. Red Rose? Very original." Smiling, she trailed off into deep thought. Although still speaking.

"Its funny, I once knew this person...She was beautiful, Rich, she had everything a Woman could want. Yet I never once saw a hint of true happiness in her eyes. Maybe after a joke, or something like that...I always saw loneliness...She reminded me of a lone red rose...Beautiful, she would love no one..."
Shaking her head, she snapped out of little daydreams.

"Anyway. She’s gone now."

Grasping her mask stick more tightly, she saw a faint image of Roa Brinkley, in her head.

The women’s sweet toned voice, once again snapped her out of her thoughts, and back into reality.
“There are so many… I wonder who has shown, tonight.”

“Hmm.” She nodded sweetly, Letting go of her dress, and clamped her hands together.
“Sweet get up though..”

Man. I know this lady from somewhere…Its creeping me out.

“I know this may sound creepish. But uh, your voice seems almost familiar…do you think it could be possible that we may have met before—“
But Essie’s sentence was interrupted, by another ladies voice.

" Hello, I'm- I mean, isn't this a beautiful place?"

“Hey there.” Essie casually smiled as she turned to greet this stranger.

Turning slowly to the Rose woman, she spoke politely.
“Thanks for talking with me. I’ll let you get back to the ball.” Nodding, she turned to the colourful one.

“Yea. This place is swanky hey?”

Essie.

[Isis.]

The Belmont's smile asked a hundred questions;

The Brinkley's own spoke a thousand words.

As Claire drifted past, Roa turned slightly to catch Estella...

"Its funny, I once knew this person...she was beautiful, rich, she had everything a woman could want. Yet I never once saw a hint of true happiness in her eyes. Maybe after a joke, or something like that...I always saw loneliness...she reminded me of a lone red rose...beautiful, she would love no one..."

A silent sigh.

Not that beautiful, Estella. If you only knew.

Pain surged through her consciousness like a silver blade, and Roa barely heard the girl's next words. Yet she knew that Estella was bidding her a friendly goodbye, letting her free to roam the scene.

…And so she did.

Shadow lacing her reflection on the shining floor, the scarlet-clad figure made her way around and across. Delicious smells wafted from the long banquet table; but Roa had no appetite. For though she was hidden in temporary relief behind her mask, she had yet to breathe easy.

Floor to ceiling windows greeted the eastern side of the Peninsula ballroom, windows that seized her and brought her back to her dining room within the Brinkley Manor. The first night… that she had seen something within Cory’s eyes die.

Cory.

He was here, somewhere.

Or was he?

Perhaps he did not turn up at all.

The music ended with a flourish, and Roa turned from her place in front of the window, to come face to face with Judas Gaebel. She watched as he left the grand, classical piano, and though his mask covered half his visage—it did, for lack of complexity, only cover half his visage. She recognized him instantly.

Black eyes locked with his own, and Roa bid him forward with a stately glance. An unblemished hand, stroked delicately with the lacy edge of her single green sleeve, motioned to the instrument.

“I must confess, sir—you did not strike me as the musical type. Appearances are assumptions waiting to happen, are they not?” Her English-stained tone braided through the other voices that floated all about… wove through the silverware, and footsteps, the music and the wine. “Not only have you managed to escape tardiness… but you seem to possess impressive skill.”

She thought she saw a trace of a smile, and she arched a brow, finely bemused.

“I have many skills that others don’t know of.”

“Such as?”

And he held out an open hand, waiting as she fluidly removed the stick from her mask, fingers gathering the flowing swell of deep emerald ribbon, dancing about her digits as they budded into a bow, resting against midnight locks.

It was then that she took his hand, and coasted upon the centre floor.

[J.Gaebel]

Holy Night came to an end. Judas felt calmed by the music, it gave him something to think about other than what was probably going to end up happening later in the night. But as the song died out, he got up from the piano seat to let the middle aged man return to his job. Then, he was met with Roa.

“I must confess, sir—you did not strike me as the musical type. Appearances are assumptions waiting to happen, are they not?”

“That – They are”

“Not only have you managed to escape tardiness… but you seem to possess impressive skill.”

“I have many skills that other don’t know of”

“Such as?”

Judas let his façade drop for a moment as he reached out and gripped Roa’s hand, a grin resting on his face. Despite the mask, it was still visible. The two made their way onto the floor, music had picked up yet again. The song was a slower one, as to be expected at such a masquerade ball. Judas found his hands had made their way down to just above her hips, like they had a mind of her own, yet intelligent enough as to not drop them too far down. He didn’t wanna piss just about everybody in S27 off.

With his head tilted down so he could see Roa, his mind began to wonder. He had a few questions he would like to ask, but first…

“So, how are you feeling about this? Nervous any?”

Emerald hued eyes remained locked onto Roa, one hidden behind a white mask.

And they danced.

[Angelus]

Years ago, Alex had gotten his chance at something bigger than anything he had ever seen before. Even though many years had passed he remembered the evening he had become part of something, albeit different than what he was used to. Alexander had come to understand the group, and even come out of the shell he had built up around himself for so long.

And then Roa died and everything came crumbling down.

No longer a part of something as everyone went his or her own separate ways Alex was left to his own, becoming a regular businessman in a not so regular business. Meetings here, business deals there; Alex knew not the meaning of fun or letting go. He had known those things while he had been part of s27, even if only on certain occasions.

Would this night bring him the most fun he had seen in years?

Alexander’s shiny black dress shoes made the slightest noise as he made his entrance to the first non-business social event he had accepted in a long time. The Belmont Christmas Masquerade Ball. Not having kept in touch with those he’d come to know as friends, and co-workers, the invitation to such an event was as random as things came. His pitch-black tuxedo fit his form perfectly, allowing the right amount of freedom without being too baggy and improper. An equally dark cape with a deep crimson inner lining flowed from his shoulders just barely drag along the floor behind him, lifting just slightly from the air catching it as he moved.

Pale blue eyes scanned the room from behind a white mask that covered the uppermost part of his cheeks, curving above the nose to allow it freedom, to his forehead below styled hair that would reach down to his chin in length. ‘An interesting turn out. Nothing like coming alone to an event where you not only not know people, but also don’t even see their faces…’ Alex reflected. He focused on masked occupants, four females to which one was dancing with the only male.

‘Maybe I’m not so late afterall.’

[Isis.]

Nervous?

Roa did not admit to things like that… so she didn’t. A stubborn lift of her chin, forced nonchalance in her movements—she looked him straight in the eyes and lied only in speech.

“Not too nervous.”

Only in speech, for everything else betrayed her. The hand that rested upon his shoulder was cold… and slightly trembling—and her heart constantly thudded with the weight of what was to come—her thoughts were riveted and fixed. Yet she smiled as both his hands rested inches above her waist.

“No no, Mr. Gaebel. Like so.”

And with her left, she raised his right, slanting her dark head artfully.

The room careened about them, a bright blur of Christmas hopes and dreams. And not too far away, the Christmas tree stood, not pretty—but magnificent, in magnitude and colour. But she felt so lonely… and so clung onto the only thing that was remotely familiar… a presence that had made itself known to her in the three years she lived a lie.

Only three years?

Has not your whole life been a lie?

No, not all.

For there were flashes in time where she had been Roa Brinkley… sadly, those were few… and far… in between…

The music tried—and almost succeeded—in transferring Roa to another world. One of free elegance, of class and blissful merriment… the notes were drenched in all that was Christmas, in all that was red and green and gold and silver. It sang of stars, it danced of moonlight, it waltzed and twirled and swirled of snow and fireplaces and hot coffee and warm fur coats…

“Alright, Judas, so I am a little nervous.” Her words came softly, gaze flitting cautiously. On and on they danced, and Roa could feel the rushes of air struggling to lighten her grave countenance. How long had it been? How many songs had passed?

“But what of you?”

[Tvmbledown]

Set. Two. Seven.

"Everdearest: You have been cordially invited to the Belmont Christmas Masque, to be held at the Hotel Peninsula, New York, Second of Decembre."

The invitation was beautiful, the inlaid gold foil catching the dim illumination of the Jeep's dome light, and casting it in faint patterns across the dash. The paper it was printed on was heavy, and somewhat coarse, though the printed side was coated in some sort of gloss. It was very much what it was: a very expensive, extravegant card, from someone with a great deal of money. Claire Belmont. A former member of a group called "Set Two Seven," and a close friend of a woman named Lacelle Roa Brinkley. Roa... She was the only one of them who knew. She was the only one who could have sent this.

But Lacelle Roa Brinkley was dead.

"The Way of the warrior is Death. This means choosing death whenever there is a choice between life and death. It means nothing more than this."

Andrei Higgins had loved Roa Brinkley. He had loved her more than life itself. He had lived with her for several months already, and had planned to propose... He would die for her. He would kill for her. But he'd done that, hadn't he? He'd reduced a man's head to so much reddish mush for her. His eyes, usually full of an almost innocent mirth, were now empty and cold. Devoid of emotion. Devoid of life. Of course, Andrei Higgins had been a lie to begin with. When Andrei died, only the truth remained.

And the truth was Jonathan.

"It means to see things through, being resolved. To say that dying without reaching one's aim is to die a dog's death is the frivolous way of sophisticates."

Jonathan, the personal bodyguard and assistant to Miss Roa Brinkley. The renowned thief, and unrivaled assassin. In the past three years, he had been the major contributor to the rising crime rates of more than twelve cities. He was the man who had more than any person could ever want, yet had nothing at all. Money mattered not to Jonathan. Life mattered not. But death... Death was everything. Death was the Final Equality between all things, the Final Answer to all of life's questions. The Final Solution to every problem.

But Death grants nothing but death. And Jonathan had that in spades.

"They are unresolved as to whether to keep to their original plan when faced with the choice of life and death. Every man wants to live. They theorize with staying alive kept in mind."

The name on the invitation was curiosity. The outer envelope had been adressed to John Teres, yet the envelope inside, which held the invitation itself, was marked "Andrei Higgins." Curiouser and curiouser, on the back of the envelope, in flowing script, was the name Jonathan.

Someone wanted him there. Someone who knew who he was.

"'The man who lives on, when he has failed in his intention, is a coward,' is a heartless definition. 'To die having failed, is to die uselessly,' is a mad point of view."

The Belmont Christmas Masque...

It seemed Jonathan had a party to go to.

-~***~-

Death strode into the ballroom, his midnight-black robes sliding soundlessly across the reflective surface of the Peninsula's magnificent floors. The hood and cowl which hid his face gave the illusion of emptiness inside the voluminous robes, an illusion supported by the black, silk gloves adorning Death's hands. The sound of heavy boots could be heard on the ballroom floor, but the man seemed to be more gliding than walking; each step moving him smoothly forward, as though he were treading on the air itself.

"This is not a shameful thing. It is the most important thing to the Way of the warrior."

Death seemed to be a man of average height, and of average build, yet the way he held himself... It was as if he stood far above, and far away from everything around him, separated from the world. A shadow, set into motion by the whisper of a dream.

If you set your heart right every morning and evening, accustomed to the idea of death, and resolved on death, and consider yourself already dead, then you will find freedom in the Way. If you find this, then you can pass through life with no possibility of failure, and perform your office properly."

[J.Gaebel]

She was lying, he could tell.

Judas let go just a blink as he felt Roa's hand over his right. Letting her raise his hand, a slight smirk fell across his features. It was apparent he wasn't too great at dancing with somebody, no matter what he said. But, get him in a freestyle, oh yeah.

A week ago, Judas never would have imagined he would be hand in hand with Roa in New York, dancing. But it wasn't as much of the fact that it was Roa, but more the fact that he never let anybody get close to him. His reasonings were simple. The job he held, was dangerous. And if it really came down to it, a simple action could leave Judas broken. A mere decision by Roa to end Judas' life, would easily succeed. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but at the same time...It wasn't.

"Sorry...I'm not...Umm...Too great at such formalities"

And they continued to dance. Song after song passed by. Roa was getting tense, Judas could tell. The way her body seemed to move just a little different. Then she finally let go of her former lie.

"Nothing wrong with that."

If it weren't for the constant dancing to pass the time, he was sure his mind would have left him. A mixture of standing idly by, waiting and wondering. It was just something he couldn't do. Hence his attempts at dancing.

"Nervous?...Me?...Heh, I wish it were that easy."

And he did. If it were possible to welcome those emotions back, he would. But his lifestyle wouldn't allow it. Emotions were a sign of weakness, but when it all came down to it...This was his only true weakness.

"Sorry...For not being the best at this"

His head remained tilted down to look at Roa. Things were going to get crazy soon. As soon as the clock struck 12, all their masks would be removed to reveal who was behind each facade. But when it came to him, the reaction from S27 wasn't going to be a good on, and he knew it. Thing is, he was currently unarmed, for the first time in a long time. One Judas versus the agents of Set Two Seven. If it came down to it...He wouldn't go down easily.

Then his eyes trailed up to the clock to see what time it was...

[OOC: Sorry for the crap ass post, I'm just not feeling it right now for some reason]

[Archetype]

"New York."

"Son of a bitch. What the ***** am I doing back here? It seems that every time something big happens, it's always in my hometown. New York is the heart of the world, I won't argue that. But does ANYthing happen outside of here? I lived here, I killed my father here, I attempt to kill my best friend here, I do a mission here, I am hunted here, and I am dragged back to this forsaken pile of trash once more. This place is so beautiful. And so corrupted." Christmas trees marked the season. 'Tis the season to be jolly, right?

Black Tie; Costumed Masquerade
7:00 PM ~ 12:30 AM
2nd December 2007
Hotel Peninsula
New York, U.S.A

"Hope i'm in the right place." , the man thought aloud. Stepping from the passenger side of a sports car, Takeshi was dressed in a tuxedo and a top hat nearly to large for his head. Since this is a costume party, the asian had to cover his face. So he did; with a paper bag. The ill-fated lad looked shockingly similar to Willy Wonka. It was the ghetto thing to do. Afterall he did come from Harlem. (not too far from this location.)

Upon entering the ballroom, Mr. Nomura tried to stay incognito - though with a giant top hat it wasn't working well. Gold, red, and green sashes were flung around the large room—and everything sparkled, gleamed, and shined. Orchids bloomed in expensive vases, and the floor was polished to the point of reflection. If he was black the light would kill him.

He could assume the people around him were the same he partnered with in past events; oddly no attempt to decipher who each were was made. Had Takeshi really turned cold? The answer was obvious. He killed his own fiancee with little remorse. Was bitterness a part of growing up?

"And where the hell is the food? I'm famished." , maybe he didn't change as much as he thought.

[Alexis]

You’ve never really enjoyed the Christmas season, New York. Well, you aren’t alone.

Belmont Christmas Masquerade.

A figure was settled in the peeling leather seat of the generic yellow cab, grazing a pair of jades along the sidewalks of Fifth Avenue. This time of the year was always cold, as the woman recalled. And accordingly, men and women occupying the gray skirts of the city blocks had their arms wrapped around somebody – whether it be a spouse, a child or even oneself – in a futile attempt to make smart use of body heat. The concept, one could suppose, was warming enough; It was the time of giving, after all. Wasn’t it?

It was rather odd to find an invitation in the mailbox of her most public residence in St. Tropez, regarding a Christmas party. A masquerade, of all things. But New York City was home and she’s always liked a good mystery. And if it meant sewing her own costume and convincing the airline assistant that her ticket was indeed a First Class instead of the Economy that was bluntly stated on the slip of paper, hey – all the better.

Impulsiveness was never photogenic, but that didn’t mean that it had no benefits.

So was the result of her love for travel: The slender female found herself in the vehicle, driving through the city she would rather have not returned to, in a tan hued dress with her dark locks thrown up into a messy up-do. A feline, the costume was meant to portray, but the lack of time and talent with needles called for a relatively uncomplicated attire.

“So, what’s your name?” The taxi driver inquired, glancing up towards the rear-view mirror.

“They call me Alexis,” she tossed him a faint smile.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Being alive today, or something theoretical. I’m not sure, really.”

Her fingers found the opening to her purse and she retrieved a single Camel from the pack within, placing it between her lips before the cylinder was set on fire. A light drag, and a trail of ethereal smoke found its way into the interior of the cab.

“No smoking, lady.”

With an amused grin toying at her visage, she lifted a finger to point towards the approaching Hotel Peninsula. The driver rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, before braking to a halt. Dutifully, Alexis pressed a fifty dollar bill into his palm. The money expressed her gratitude, and the middle-aged man drove away with his occupation in a yellow blur.

The Ballroom.

What was there to say? It was beautiful, but that was expected. Thoughts came in masses as she fixed the chocoate suede mask against her flesh. The mind was unforgiving, truly. And there was a certain vibe in the area that she had also felt when she was in – The Brinkley Manor? Perhaps it was how certain bodies carried themselves, or the tenor of specific voices. But who was she to say. She had disappeared without much notice.

Everything, however, did come packaged with an explanation.

And I’m sorry, Roa Brinkley. Wherever you are.

[Actress*Angel]

It was late. How late? Hopefully Roa was keeping track.

Claire glanced to the door on certain occasions; Checking to see all the glistening masks appearing around the ballroom. It was beautiful. The whole place was different before. It was alive now. Fully colored. It was almost as if we were all in a movie.

Masquerade's always came and gone, none quite like this one. Not only did the secret hide below, but so did all the people. No one could tell who was who unless you struck a conversation. It might be the thing to do. Why hold back when you only have so much time; dancing to get done.

Dancing.

The magical word that didn't set place in Claire's mind until then.

There was always those special dances with people. People you knew and actually cared about. Switch it up. There was always time for change, well at least until midnight. It was becoming breezy, but the warmth was the dancing. The cure was the dancing.

But then a boy- No a man, heavily made his way into the room like he owned it. But who it was, she wasen't sure.
There was no hesitation on these sort of things. Everyone knew it. Choose or lose.


Choose.

Claire strolled up to the confident guy, known as the idenity Jonathan. She was yet to find out. But did she already know him? Who he was?

' Welcome to The Belmont Ball, Sir. Care to dance?'


She pulled him onto the dance floor, a light beat started through the orchestra. The beat only an angel could bring. So sudle. So soft. The smell of roses filled the air.

Her hair flew over to the center line of the ballroom.

She tightened her mask.

The faint voice of Roa Brinkley could be heard in her mind;

"...how terrible it would be… if one was to drop their mask while dancing…"

[Tikal]

Whoops.

She had interrupted a conversation.

“Yea. This place is swanky hey?”

What the-Swanky? Swanky?!? What kinda wor-

I love it.

"They look so pretty, dancing. I wish I knew how to dance like that properly." Tia shrugged sheepishly, and her colorful skirt bobbed.

The 22 year old watched as people walked in. For the hundredth time, she looked around the hotel. "Claire Belmont.... I wonder why she invited me here... I haven't seen her in ages."

Ha.... Food Fight.

Tia's mind flashed back to one of the most memorable meals she had ever had. Well.. You couldn't really call it a meal. It was more of... 'Play time kids!'A funny thought ran through her head.

Nah Tia, not now. Everyone would kill you if you got food all over there pretty clothes.

"Hmm. I'm hungry, do you want to come to the banquet table with me?"

Damnit girl. Can't you just control yourself?

She remembered one of her favorite sayings when she was little.

Don't worry Ma, I wont.

That was alright. The only problem was she did. So now, Tia figured it was better if she didn't say it. That way, she most likely wouldn't.

Tsk. Most likely.

Tia walked towards the table, her hands holding each other in front of her, as if refraining them from doing something. Abruptly, she turned around, almost tripping over her dress.

"Oh, by the way, I'm supposed to be a parrot."

Tia turned, more smoothly this time, and continued walking towards the banquet.

[Isis.]

{No need to be sorry ^-^. Just think of those bloody teddy-bears… and everything will be alright… widdle Billy…}


“Sorry… for not being the best at this.”

“No need to be sorry… I should be sorry—and I am, for what’s to come.”

And she meant it.

His eyes swivelled upwards to fix themselves onto the ornate clock then, and Roa couldn’t help but follow his gaze.

Ten o’clock.

Two hours.

It was quite amusing, actually—how the people were so familiar; yet so strange, all at once. The figures; the way they moved, the way they spoke, even the way they held their masks, or their finger-foods… having lived with these people for a year… and knowing it was indeed them…

The eyes will see what they wish to see.

Jonathan?

Now the rain´s falling,
Hear the train calling...
Hear that lonesome whistle
Blowing across the trestle...
Echoing back the blues in the night...

Two other figures made their way onto the dance floor, and his presence almost drowned her in its hopelessness. He wore robes of raven, the airy glow from the chandeliers doing nothing for him. Roa swallowed discreetly, her grip on Judas’s hand tightening. Slowly she turned her face away from Death, despite knowing he could not tell it was her. But then again, Jonathan had always been different from other people.

Her cheek lightly touched her partner’s own, and she almost found herself wanting to steer their dancing away from Claire and Jonathan. Assuming it was Jonathan. But his presence was unmistakable, there was something about him that yelled of his spirit. Something invisible, intangible, trailing like grey smoke from within the gloom and broken authority of his movements, his deportment.

Roa’s world threatened to shatter into a million pieces around her. Desperately, she kept it all together with a silver thread.

Don’t let go.

She’d been able to keep it all together, for years and years. She wouldn’t let it go now.

A shaky breath, and she slanted her gaze, curls brushing along Judas’s neck. Completely… completely away, she turned wholly, to avoid any visual manifestation of her previous bodyguard.

Time.

They were further away now, their steps muted by the music, which began to liven, as the time drew close. Lifting her gaze, she pulled back, determination blitzing through eyes that reflected the stars beyond. It was beautiful, even Roa could see that. The windowpanes revealed the night sky… the night sky that she always seemed to see when around…

Time.

The evening breeze will start the trees to crying;
And the moon will hide its light-

Loosening her grip on Judas’s hand, she released a faint laugh. The music seemed to ask her to lighten, and she found their steps had subconsciously quickened. “A quarter to eleven, Judas.”

It wouldn’t be long now.

Take my word, the mocking bird
Will sing the saddest kind of song
He knows things are wrong and he´s right...
Wherever the four winds blow-

[J.Gaebel]

“I’m eager, to say the least.”

Judas hadn’t really been paying attention to the other occupants at the ball. Between trying not to look like a fool while dancing, and letting his mind wonder about midnight, he hadn’t the chance to really worry. If anything, it was going to be something remembered for a long time. Despite what most have already probably heard, he wasn’t a bad guy, maybe by standing beside their fallen loved one, unfallen, it would prove such.

His momentary thoughts had already been interrupted by the dancing. He needed to get back on the ball, luckily, nothing too bad had happened yet. Unexpectedly, Roa had pressed her cheek against his own. Emerald green eyes became hidden, with eyes shut. A semi deep breath was taken before he once again allowed himself to see. Only then did he realize how nervous Roa had gotten. His hand was being controlled, gripped tighter than before. A brow quirked up slightly, yet unseen behind the white mask.

“Relax”

The solo word mumbled out just before her head turned to tickle his neck with her curls. It was quarter til eleven, and things were starting to get tense. But the music had picked up, and such thoughts couldn’t be present in his mind if he were to keep up.

So he dismissed them.

They both knew it was getting close to the moment of truth. Judas could only send a wink towards Roa as he picked up his pace more. A couple strands of dirty blonde hair, once spiked straight up, had given way and fell down resting just above his eyebrow. Not everything lasted forever, pain from losing a loved one, pain from a breakup, nor…His spiky hair. (( xD))

“You’ve got some major stamina…Even I must rest sometimes.”

His voice held a slight bit of fun, as if he were saying she wasn’t human. But it didn’t matter, he could go on til sunrise if need be. The clock was gazed at several more times over the course of the next half our. Just about 11:20 now. The others at the ball had to be aware, but maybe not nervous.

Judas wished he could feel some form of nervousness, but he wouldn’t allow himself. Too self disciplined. Like trying to drown a fish in water, it just wouldn’t work. He could feel his attitude picking up, getting a bit more carefree rather than what he would expect. Then his gaze fell to Roa again. The pink flesh of his tongue ran over his lips before he spoke again.

“Everything will be fine. If not…I’ll make everything fine.”

[Halèn Montroyes]

Swans.Black. The most Mysterious colour of them all.

I could Dance, Dance, Dance.
All Day.
All Night.
We can dance clap your hands,
Dance, Dance.

"They look so pretty, dancing. I wish I knew how to dance like that properly."

“I know. I know.” A smile “You know I’ve been wanting to dance all night.”

"Hmm. I'm hungry, do you want to come to the banquet table with me?"

“Sure. I’m pretty darn hungry.”

Man that food looks good.

Estella turned from the parrot and poised steps bought her to the buffet styled food table. The bronze dishes were lined up neatly, and all the dishes looked absolutely scrumptious. But there was one thing she couldn't take her eyes off.

The Dashing young man who had just walked through the door.

He had a real swanky, top hat too.

The thing that drew Estella to look at him, was the fact that there were not many men present yet, and that she was so eager to dance, that she figured this might be her only chance.

Well here goes. Man I hope as bad a dancer as me.

"Hey... If You want to I will...But uh...Wanna dance?"

Smooth Move Essie. Now you've scared him.

Essie.

[Archetype]

Dancing?

To move rhythmically usually to music, using prescribed or improvised steps and gestures. A series of motions and steps, usually performed to music. A musical or rhythmical piece composed or played for dancing. The act or an instance of dancing. Or to move nimbly or merrily; to express pleasure by motion; to caper; to frisk; to skip about.


An art a Takeshi Nomura was not very fond of. The idea was to show up, sit around for whatever he had to, and leave. To tell the truth, this s27 was never Takeshi's deal. The death of Ms. Brinkley struck a note so deep inside the Asian prince, that the chance of joining another clique was slim to none. It irritated him. The people around him felt so familiar and when it came down to it, he never really knew any of these people. The atmosphere was dank with excitement and mystery. Takeshi hated being in the dark, and even with the light in the area, it was dark. A deep breath was taken; it was time to leave. The Asian man in the tuxedo spun in the direction of the exit; and paced away.

"Hey... If you want to I will...But uh...wanna dance?" , she interrupted his train of thought before it hit the station. She seemed excessively eager, and to turn her down was sin-worthy.

"Then, tis time to dance." And led her toward the dance floor.

[Angelus]

People were getting together and beginning to dance though there were still others that were conversing amongst one another. Alex moved silently, carefully avoiding what may be deemed to be the dance floor, towards the banquet table. No reason to dance yet, I may as well grab a small snack instead of standing around gawking at those that are having “fun”, he reflected. His cape flowed along behind him, never quite enough to expose a slight bump, or abnormality, at the waistline behind his back. He may have become a businessman, but the agent that had formed inside never found it’s way out.

And the agent inside Alex always made insisted on keeping some form of defense handy.

With different kinds of food splayed on platters along the length of the table, Alex picked up the occasional piece of food before popping it into his mouth. From the corner of his eye he spotted a woman in an interestingly colorful skirt, catching his eye enough to consider asking for a dance. Alex however didn’t make any sort of move, having only one thought in mind when it came to asking the women that seemed to be a parrot.

‘Polly want to dance’ wouldn’t really go over well. Not at all.

[Halèn Montroyes]

"Then, tis time to dance."

Her eyes lit up, and she grin as he led her onto the glistening dance floor.

Wow, this is just like a fairytale.

Her hand found its way to his shoulder, and they started to move.

Graceful steps.

And at that moment, no one else seemed to be in the room.
It was like a dream.

Her gown lightly brushed the floor, as they twisted and turned. And funnily enough she was doing it.

Looking at her feet, they moved rythmically. And as if in a trance, she moved with him.

"So. Since I wont know your name till, well midnight. Im gonna call Mr Tophat okay?"
Without allowing him to answer she spoke again.
This time loooking at him.

"So Mr Top Hat. Have you ever done this before?"
Her eyes once again met the floor.
"I haven't."

Another step.

1,2,3. 1,2,3.

Breathe.

1,2,3.

Jade orbs, peered beyond his shoulder, and at the clock.

11.30

You need to pick yo afro daddy.
Because its flat on one side.
Ba doom, Ba doo ba dee dah.
Cause if you dont pick yo afro,
You gonna have one side high..

Essie.

[Tikal]

Tia watched as her newly found friend danced away with a guy in a top hat with a... Paper bag over his head

Aaaalrighty then

She watched them, and after awhile, turned back to the table. There were fancy foods set up, that looked delightingly tasteful. And when she picked one up, and put it to her tongue, she found out her impression was right.

Mmmm... Yummy.

Tia glanced to the side, and saw a man there in a tux and a dark, black and crimson cape.

Aw mad! A cape!

Tia had always loved capes for some reason. Well, it was probably because they were so big and flowy and fun. She ate another piece of food, munching on it quietly, as she thought. When she had finished with it, she held the face part of the mask with one hand, and pulled out the stick with the other. Slowly, and carefully, she tied the yellow ribbon attatched to the back of the mask, with difficulty. Placing the stick into her handbag she walked slowly to the guy with the cape, planning to ask him if he wanted to dance.

[Cory]

x

This place was never the same again
After you came and went.
How can you say you meant anything different
To anyone standing alone
On the street with a cigarette
On the first night we met?

x

11:52

What in the world could they want from me now?

Driving down the street, not looking forward to the upcoming event in the least, Cory felt his spirit draining with every second he drew nearer to the Hotel Peninsula. Unsure of what Claire wanted from him, now several years after Set Twenty-Seven's disbanding, Cory could only imagine the young woman had probably set forth some form of charity, perhaps even honouring the late Roá Brinkley.

"Maybe it's been too long.." Cory muttered to himself, still moving rather slowly to the masquerade. Yes, even though he was wearing nothing but a simple blue shirt with white dress pants, Cory knew that all whom had attended were most likely concealing their faces with, at the very least, masks. However, with the situation bringing back a horde of memories, Cory was reluctant to even attend, let alone bring some form of costume.

It'll never be long enough..

Finally arriving at the hotel with five minutes to midnight, Cory lazily removed himself from his Toyota Celica, shoes hitting the pavement with the soft, "street fighter's touch" that he had never quite lost. Still in excellent physical shape, Cory really hadn't changed much the last few years, the only major difference shown through the hardness in his eyes and what was once short, blue hair now also slightly longer, sideburns reaching down below to past mid-ear.

"Nothing like a meeting with an old friend to bring back unwanted memories." The statement releasing itself with uncontrolled honesty, Cory still remembered the days he had spent with Roá; days he almost wished never occurred. Life had since dragged on, each one bringing back to him something which tugged at his heart, willing it to just give way once and for all. To Cory, there was really nothing left now; meeting with Claire really wouldn't bring back anything.

Already inside the hotel, approaching double doors which led to the masquerade, Cory could hear a grandfather clock chiming midnight, as if telling him that he was already beyond what anyone would call "fashionably late". The fact that he had arrived at all, however, was more than he expected from himself, multiple arguments among himself disputing whether he should just turn around there or continue forward. Circumstance overcame logic however, Cory already at the doors, pushing them open to reveal the scene before him, everyone appearing to have just removed their costumes.

His voice ringing out above a short silence, words were cut short as he laid eyes on those around him. One in particular, however, sent him into a flood of unexpressed emotion. "Hey. Am I la.."

Roá?

x

Look to the past
And remember her smile
And maybe tonight
I can breathe for awhile
I'm not in this scene
I think I'm fallin' asleep
But then all that it means is
I'll always be dreaming of you

x

`:.Cory