2685.04.17: The Grand Masquerade

Date: 17.04.2685 (05.22.10)
Location: Beven Dance Hall, Fort Weyr
People: Alzanbri, B'ky, Calria, Ely, Galina, K'shan, Kessa, Lyana, Ma'kai, R'lin, R'oc, Sabrina, Syra, Tenebrous
Synopsis: It's a masquerade! Galina chats with Tenebrous, the ghosts of old Weyrleaders past dance the night away, and a storm blows through …
Note: At the bottom are all of the costumes in no particular order (sans one; hopefully I can get that one to add in!) and the names of the dancers. There is a song that Galina quotes that seems eerily fitting (removing all drug references, that is) and the video is located here. People are strange, indeed …


It's a perfectly brisk winter's evening, with Rukbat bleeding its last and the bare crimson edge being absorbed into the inky navy of the night. Stars wink and glitter in the celestial blanket, the moons glow as they dance in their silent gyres … and, fittingly, a dance is just starting up in the very belly of Fort Weyr. The chamber has been decorated with winter-themed decor, glistening bits of silver and glass and other glittery things hanging from the ceilings or strung on the walls.

A few tables toward the back have been set up and decorated fittingly — all white table cloths and glittering frippery — with some small tealights in frosted glass bowls to provide muted illumination in that part of the hall. Food has been prepared and is set out at that area, all manner of finger foods to be found, along with a refreshing array of alcoholic beverages — and non-alcoholic, too, for those so inclined.

At the stage, a group of Harpers are setting up, odd snippets of songs drifting from them as instruments are tuned and the last drink of wine is drunk before it's time to start in earnest. The call has gone out, the lighting is dim, and all is ready for the first arrivals to the masquerade.

For all that his outfit might be a little bit overdone (really, ruffles?), the short one dressed as a pirate doesn't seem to notice his possible silliness. On the arm of a be-gowned woman in green who heads off immediately after somebody else, the pirate parades onwards by himself. Tilting his hat back a little out of his eyes and sashaying — there's no other word for it, honestly — into the dance hall, the short one drifts through the slowly-growing crowd. He accepts a tall, fluted glass of some sort of juice and drinks it off to the side of the room, bright eyes flickering over the masked dancers. For now, he simply watches, flicking an invisible fleck of dust off of his admittedly well-pressed shirt with a huff.

Slow, deliberate steps bring a rather red and black clad man into the dance hall. He pauses though at the entrance, and the Ace of Spades takes a deep breath, letting it out in a rushed huff. So not a favorite event of his. But he's in attendance all the same, and it's a measured stride that takes him across the floor and toward the drinks. He'll be needing one of those, most definitely, and he takes a glass with a mute nod before trekking his way to the safest place he can find. A wall.

The atmosphere is a jovial one, with people spilling in wearing their long since treasured gowns and suits for the night. Some may not come dressed up, some prefer to not wear a mask, or a variation of dressing up or down. It doesn't seem to matter, their's a festive feeling in the air. In the crowd there's one woman whose taken to the theme well, blending brown and blue together to make a fine show. She's off on the side, with her hand holding a napkin with a couple pieces of food clutched there, being picked at now and then. Her eyes drift over those coming in with amazing gowns, smiling pleasingly at those that pass by.

This is not her element — even with the mask in place and the fan drawn up to cover the lower part of her face, the young woman who arrives is too stiff and too hesitant to be the type to enjoy these festivities … even with company. There's a sidelong look to her companion, white-hooded as he is, and then a glance back out to the dance hall itself. Rose Red, in all her red and gold finery, seems loath to go much further inside than just off to a side of the entrance. "This is ludicrous," is flatly intoned to her Forgettable friend, her voice likely betraying her identity well before the combination of mask and fan might.

Mingling among the noises of the tuning instruments and milling dancers is the sound of heels clicking against the hard floor as well as heavier footsteps, the soft noise steadily growing louder. Soon it's not hard to see the source of the noise - a couple edging their way into the crowd. It's the woman that likely catches the eye first, considering the bright flame red of her hair is enough to stick out against the pale wintery decorations of the hall. Not to mention, the pale shimmery golden fabric of her gown catches what little light there is, further bringing attention towards her. The man on her arm is taller, for sure, with short sandy blonde hair and a trim outfit done in Fort's colors of brown, black with hints of bronze here and there. Faces covered fully by masks, it's impossible to tell who they really are. But the representations of knots on their shoulders - a Sr. Weyrwoman one for the woman and a Weyrleader for the man - coupled with their appearance is enough to show who they mean to be - Sorka and Sean Connell. For now the pair linger near the edge, surveying the dancers from a safe distance.

"That has yet to be seen," Rose Red's companion offers in a calm, if somewhat throaty, voice. "I suspect that our frequent evasion of such occasions has more to do with unwanted attentions than any actual distate for the event itself." The white-shrouded man at her arm looks around the room for a moment. "A colorful selection," he offers after a breath. Then he's nodding to a patch of wall that's not far from the refreshments, offering a pleasant view of the room and its occupants as a whole. "Perhaps there? The least we can afford ourselves here is a decent point of vantage, yes?"

Mother Winter, the brown and blue dressed lady, plucks another nibblet from the napkin of goodies she's holding, some sweet looking pastry filled with a jelly - a mini bubbly pie. She glances toward the woman in red and gold, a vast smile on her lips inbetween the slow chewing. Her attention is drawn to the pair that walks in just now though, looking like a royal duet as they come in with knots that resemble Weyrleading ones. She does cough a little, laughing at the display. "For once eyes won't be on me. Thank Faranth-" she mutters as she turns back to find her fingers hitching up a flute of sparkling wine. Dipping her head, she easily keeps the the side, nodding her head in quiet murmurings to those that pass by.

Blue Ice arrives with a rustle of skirts, a smile plastered on her face when she sees the way the dance hall is decorated. She moves into the hall, seeking someone out perhaps. Or perhaps she's simply taking a turn about the room, spying to see if she recognizes anyone. She doubts many will recognize her though.

Raven saunters in from the hallway with confidence. The purple and green dyed feather in his black hat however does not look so confident. It's wavering in the breeze, and is threatening to come loose. Apparently someone forgot to do a costume check to make sure all was in place and secured before arriving. Hazel eyes peer out from behind a glossy and colorful beaked mask, and not far into the dance hall the young man stops to survey the large room. He is apparently looking for someone in particular, but the dim lighting and mass of bodies makes the search difficult. With every moment that he fails to find his target, his movements grow more uncertain.

Somebody's not been delinquet with his history lessons — the runty Pirate peers curiously Sean and Sorka-wards, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Somehow he refrains from asking where Faranth and Carenath are, but well, the reasoning is likely in the bacon-wrapped tasty that's somehow found its' way into his grasp. It's gone in an instant and another replaces it, now-real crumbs brushed away with an imperious hand. Absently preening ruffled sleeves, the boy squints around with thoughtful curiosity as people arrive. His green-draped companion is chatting with one of the harpers, and while the attention is off of him, the squat Pirate ducks behind somebody. Whoever it is might not appreciate the brief use as a rock to hide behind before the pirate's off again, now ducking behind a convenient table. You saw nothing!

Whether the woman in red recognizes anyone there or not is hard to say … though her eyes seem to linger on a few people, particularly that little pirate over there. Rose Red tilts her head slightly to Forgettable, intoning, "I can safely say that my aversion to such events is related more to the interaction with other people that are unfamiliar to me." While the pressing of her lips into a flat line is impossible to see, it's fairly audible. "Lead as you will." She'll be an easy one to guide to the wall near the tables, her ghost-quiet tread gone utterly silent for the faint din of the gathering crowd.

At long last, the Harpers are well and ready to start playing in earnest, plucking out the chords to a slow-moving waltz for the gathering crowd's listening enjoyment. A few dancers are quick to move out to the open floor, while others continue to mingle or finish off that last bit of bubbly before they're willing to give the dancing thing a whirl.

There's a bit of hesitation in the bright flame-haired Sorka as she remains fixed at the very edges of the grouping. Clutching at Sean's arm, she seems hesitant and unsure about stepping into the sea of mingling people, especially with the prospect of dancing on the horizon. Leaning in close, she hisses something at her partner that might sound less than Weyrwomanly to those close by. Undaunted, however, Sean squeezes the woman's arm and steers her off towards the refreshments, guiding her through gaps in milling people and dancing couples. For now there's only the soft click-click of Sorka's heels against the floor and the slight swish of the golden fabric of her gown.

"One of us has to," the Forgettable man offers urbanely, his voice smiling in lieu of his face. A gloved hand gestures towards his intended path and he smoothly begins to weave between guests, veering towards areas of lower traffic whenever he can. "You speaking about the interactions of strangers makes me remember something interesting that I once heard an older rider speaking about," the man offers, passing close enough to the refreshment table to snag a flute of juice. He offers it to his Rose, continuing, "He said that he used to spend a great deal of time in the kind of bars over at Ista where beautiful women danced. One thing led to another one evening and another young man ended up on the stage with them, bright red and embarassed. When the dance was over, the man all but leapt from the stage, to which the older rider assured him, "Son, you need to understand…no one was interested in looking at you." Everyone was focused on the women." He shrugs as they finally reach their spot on the wall. "If you give me a moment, I can probably find you a chair to sit upon."

Ace of Spades remains in his current position, nearly clinging to the wall. Or at least his back remains steadfastly attached to it. One leg crosses in front of the other, however, settling for a relaxed position. He keeps his drink though, sipping on it now and then. There's a mild wince when the music finally starts, glancing over towards the harpers.

Skyclad Gentleman has been here all along, already standing back against one wall when the music began. There is a soft smile upon his face, pale hair left loose to fall where it will, the silvery-greys and sky-blues of his garments only slightly paler than the snowy hue of the ornate mask he wears. Leaning just a little to the side, he holds no drink and makes no move to enter the dance floor, simply watching the others present, seeming satisfied to merely be there. And if there is the briefest of downward tugs to the corners of his mouth, it's fleeting and hardly noticable with all the activity around him. Perhaps his gaze might follow this person or that, but in the end, the Skyclad Gentleman is little more than another well-placed costume amongst many finer, and more elaborate ones.

"Interesting. But that is not relevent to the current situation," Rose Red supplies to Fogettable, accepting the flute of juice … though it requires snapping her fan shut to allow her to drink from it. Even her lips are lurid red, further sign that someone else must have hijacked her to apply the stuff. Faranth knows she's not the type to do it on her own. "Because I know the eyes are on the costume, not on the person. It is simply the interaction with others that is unpleasant. Particularly in situations like this." The offer of a chair earns a slight shake of her head, a mechanical left-right-center. "That is unnecessary." Pause. "Thank you."

Raven has apparently still not found whomever he is looking for. He hovers around the edges, peering this way and that at various groups of people, working his way around the cavern to the buffet table but carefully avoiding the more open spaces where the dancing is starting. "Should've arranged a place to meet." He mutters quietly to himself. He stops for a moment to readjust his vest and inspect the rest of his outfit. It's quite obvious that he's feeling uncomfortable, despite the swaggering entrance. His movements now seem very controlled, maybe staged would be the right word. Masquerades are about pretending to be someone your not, and Raven doesn't seem to be very good at it. "Oh, excuse me." A quiet murmur as he bumps into a lady wearing an elaborate gown.

Ace of Spades does finish off his drink, making a bit of a face at the rush in which it goes down. He sets the glass down at a nearby table though, extracting himself from the wall finally. A green gaze looks about the hall however, slowly taking in and inspecting the masked figures. Another wall-clinger gets a look for a moment or two though, before he gives a faint sigh. Then, turning, he moves that way, eyeing the gray and blue clad man there..before simply settling against the wall nearby.

Forgettable shrugs a little. "As you wish." The white shroud that covers his face quivers a little where the lips beneath it twitch into a smile. "You know, for your costume, you could just pretend to be mute. I promise, I wouldn't sell your secret. Just hold that fan up once you're done with your juice, and you'll be fine." His free hand comes over to rest on top of her hand at his elbow, squeezing a little.

Captain Night walks into the dance late, and really, isn't in that great of an outfit for a masquerade. He still thinks he looks pretty good though as he walks into the full dance hall. He takes a look around at all the finery as he smiles to the ladies his eyes meet. "Good evening." He says to a few people. His eyes settle on a woman in brown and blue and a wider smile pulls at his face before he's making his way over to her. "Hello my lady." He says to her, giving her a deep bow.

Runty Pirate, now left to his own devices, goes on the prowl. For what? Well, bereft of frilly drink and bacon snacks, somebody to dance with of course! Never mind that he's a full head shorter than even short ladies. He's got more than enough of a swagger to make up for his lack of height, sweeping across the cavern with narrowed blue eyes darting here and there. Alas! For many already sport companions. The short pirate seems to ignore this fact, though, and continues his search with dogged determination.

There comes a time even in the best of festive moods that other things just become too much of a burden. In the act of staying off on the side lines and allowing many of the elaborate think of others as the Weyr leads, she's been given a chance to breath, to think, to sit down and rest. The lady dressed in brown and blue finds a seat in a comfortable corner of the hall, fingers dipping underneath her mask to push it slightly up on her face. She gives an uneasy sigh, fingers wiping off some makeup unintentionally as they draw back underneath the half face mask. Her chin lifts however when a voice seems near to her, immediately familiar. Her eyes swivel toward Captain Night, seemingly surprised at the deep bow that is afforded her, "Was I that easy to pick out of the masses?" she notes with a tone of humor, perhaps a bit of disappointment that she didn't conceal herself well enough, "I'd think we better let the crowd assume those two-" she points to the Sorka and Sean outfits, "-are in charge for now. Easier that way, so no more of this bowing nonsense-" she fans her hand at him, pointing to chair next to her if he is so inclined.

Rose Red slants a sidelong look to Forgettable, the corners of her mouth pulling a bit into an eventual ghost of a smile that dies quickly. The juice is finished, the glass set down, and the fan is snapped open and held, just so, to cover the rest of her face. Low-murmured and askance, "Giving away the secret without a cost is slightly more troubling." Gray eyes flick out over the milling of people, particularly those that are dancing out there — and if she should return the squeeze in kind, then so be it. "You remain incorrigible." And there's that pirate again! Amused is one way to describe her face behind the mask and fan.

Sorka shuffles slowly to a stop, letting the clicking noise of her heels die away as her momentum slows once she nears the refreshments. Slouching her shoulders, she folds her arms across her chest and eyes the assembled people - costumes, dancing and the lot - with what might be a skeptical air. Obviously amused, Sean leans in and squeezes her arm, voice hinting that there might be a grin hidden behind his mask, "Cheer up. You should act like a Weyrwoman, /Sorka/." There might be a roll of the eyes behind Sorka's mask as she leans in to elbow him in the ribs playfully, "/Fine/. That means you have to act like a Weyrleader, /Sean/." Amused, she chortles, her posture relaxing a bit as she surveys the scene once more, obviously cheered a bit. It's not long before Sean disappears for a minute and returns bearing two flutes of sparkling cider, one of which he extends to the flame-haired woman with a little bow at the waist. "/Shells/", Sorka hisses, rather unWeyrwomann-like, with an amused laugh, reaching out to take the glass, "Not /that/ much like a Weyrleader."

Captain Night smiles at Mother Winter and slips into a chair next to her. "I'd now you anywhere. No matter what mask you hid behind." He says softly, nodding at the very bright woman who attracts a good deal of attention. "She is quite lovely out there. Though I think I'll give you away just as easily. I couldn't find a mask that didn't make me look completely riddiculous." He adjusts his jacket as his eyes sweep over her again. "You look beautiful." He says, flashing her a bright smile.

Skyclad Gentleman tilts his head to watch the Ace of spades approach, and if his gaze lingers on some of the ..designs there, perhaps it's simply that eye-catching of an outfit? Still, when the man settles against the wall nearby, there is a longer look at the other's face. And slowly, a very faint smile emerges, softening for a moment before he comments softly, "I hand't expected to see you here. ..Or rather.. I expected, ah, something purple." Though why he would think that..

Forgettable snorts. "It seems the thing to be, at least around you. This is the only time I ever find myself in that role, after all." Then his eyes are following hers out to that pirate, and he smiles. "It seems the night has drawn all kinds." From person to person, his eyes move. "Do you ever wonder, from a purely mental standpoint, what motivates people to choose the costumes they do for such events? Is it random, or are there some inner workings of the mind that prompt them?"

You can never truly be late for a party, as long as you arrive before it's over. So really, the man clad all in black and green doesn't seem all that concerned as he wanders in after the festivities have already started. Just inside the door he pauses, hands going up to ensure the leather mask is settled correctly on his face, and a hand checking the cord that wraps around the back of his head. With that Puck is perhaps finally ready to move fully into the dance hall, the light fabric of his pants giving a brief swish as he makes his way into the crowd.

Ace of Spades tilts his head faintly, looking over at the Skyclad Gentleman once again. "I'm not sure that I know what you're talking about." Yes, he /is/ going to be difficult. So there. But he looks out at the rest of the room once again, before pushing himself away from the wall. "Had you planned on staying there the whole night, or actually dancing?"

Mother Winter does offer him a kind smile, regardless of the wintry ice aspect that she's trying to portray. "I wear many masks, this is just a physical one you can see-" she notes with a wry tone of voice, sighing before she draws her drink toward her, sipping from the long tapered glass. The glass makes a slight clink when she puts it back down, eyes flashing toward those playing weyrwoman and weyrleader for a night, nodding, "They did a very fine job on their outfits." She returns her teal eyes toward him, "You'd never look riddiculous, but I do find your mask to be amusing me in several ways-" she covers a giggle with a slight bend of a finger drawn over her lips. "Thank you. You look dashing tonight."

Blue Ice finds that she does recognize a few people, if only by their hair. Though she doesn't call out to any of them. She does approach the Skyclad Gentlman and The Ace of Spades though and smiles to them both. "Good evening gentlemen. This is a lovely party, don't you think?" She's got a glass of wine with her that's half empty by now, the product of merely circling the hall instead of dancing.

The slow dance slowly winds down, only to be replaced with another that's meant for those a bit faster on their feet. It's not a frantic thing by any means, but, rather, simply upbeat and festive.

"I disbelieve. You cannot /just/ be incorrigible in my presence alone." Rose Red tips a pale eye to regard Forgettable and then her attention ventures back out again. It's a game to mentally pick apart the costumes, to see what faces hide beneath — and thus she engages in it, though without saying much on that side of things. "Of course. That is part of it all as a whole — puzzling out the motivations of the person behind the mask to determie why they chose /that/ mask." Her heat tilts, birdlike. "I might turn that question on you. What motivated your costume choice?"

May Queen finds herself drawn more towards the stage, for the moment playing the proverbial wallflower. Though the mask hides a good portion of her face, the wide-eyed look of wonder cannot be mistaken, shards of summery emerald framed by the cobalt of southern seas. Slender, slightly calloused fingers pluck nervously at her skirt as she takes a moment to watch and listen, to gather her bearings before joining the dance. The more upbeat tune draws a smile from her, and she might be seen bobbing her head lightly in time to the music. Otherwise, she keeps to herself, for the nonce.

Skyclad Gentleman doesn't explain his comment, though one hand reaches up absently to touch the sprig of lavender tucked into his vest pocket. He drops his hand, though, head shaking gently before he simply smiles. The Ace of Spades' garments are given a quiet look, the gentleman's pale gaze drifting downward when the other red-clad man pushes away from the wall. And there is a blink, and while it's not likely possible to see the thin brow arching upward, his tone clearly conveys… something, as he remarks, "That is an.. interesting costume." And yes, his eyes are totally fized on that little black heart.. just there. And if he stares a moment, well. The man does finally lift his gaze when the question is asked, and there is a brief pursing of his lips before he murmurs, "I suppose it depends.. on whether I'll have the chance to dance, this time." Perhaps someone is just a little reluctant to repeat that sort of thing. In any case, when Blue Ice wanders over, there's a polite nod in agreement for her, "Mm, it is lovely."

Subtly as death itself, Night Shadow slips into the cavern and off to the side, taking a moment to study the occupants before she near-glides towards a table to retrieve a goblet of wine. Thus fortified with a careful sip from beneath her veil, she takes up station there beside the table, one arm folded carefully across her chest, and appears content for the moment merely to watch the swirl of costumed party-goers.

Captain Night smiles at Mother Winter and nods. "Well thank you. What's so amusing about my mask?" Besides the fact that it does little to hide who he is. He sits up a little when the music speeds up and a grin tugs at one side of the man's mouth before he stands up. "Would you like to dance?" He asks, holding out his hand to the brown and blue woman.

"A friend picked it out for me, believe it or not," The Forgettable man offers in quiet response. Lookit! A Gathering! Eyes flicker over to the Ace of Spades and crew, taking their costumes in for a moment. "There was…an opportunity that I had, a long time ago, to attend one of these functions. I confessed to someone that I trusted that I hadn't the faintest idea about how to dance, and she's been after me to try my hand at it ever since. I think she hoped that by helping me with my costume, it might offer the necessary impetus to actually get me out onto the floor." He chuckles a bit wickedly. "Alas, no." He looks down at himself. "Still…all things considered, I'm pleased with it. Had I any inclination towards this kind of craft, I might ahve picked something similar. Just another face in the crowd."

Sorka curls her fingers around the slender neck of the flute, bringing it up towards her mask in a delicate sort of way. Perhaps it's an attempt to be feminine or Weyrwomanly or something of the sort. Either way, she hooks a thumb beneath her mask and lifts it partially, giving her just enough room to drain the entire flute of cider in what is a decidedly unWeyrwomanly fashion. The mock knot on her shoulder certainly isn't helping her step into her role for the night, it seems. Sliding her mask back into place, she wiggles the empty glass in front of her partner. Sean's shoulders are shaking with silent laughter, barely managing to get out the words, "Playing the thirsty Weyrwoman, tonight?" Waving her hand in the air in a regal sort of way, Sorka snorts, "If /I/ were a Weyrwoman, it's how I would act. And that's all that matters." Setting the empty glass to one side, she leans in close to Sean, tapping the tip of one toe to the upbeat music, her voice low, "Up for dancing, you think? I'm not sure on the song. I might break my Weyrwomanly neck."

Puck seems to be just slightly lost as he wanders the crowd, avoiding the dancers at least so he's not entirely in the way. Finally he manages to reach the other end and a wall, glancing along it until a woman in white is spotted, the two men nearby looking like they might be departing. "Would you like to dance?" is said with one corner of his mouth starting to tug up towards the base of his mask in a grin. Not knowing who people are actually makes these things easier he's finding. A finger trails up to his ear though as if to fidget with a lock of hair, but the styling has left none there and it awkwardly trails down to instead be held out palm up in offering.

"You look like a highway robber, a renegade about to poke his nose out of the dark and snatch a woman's baubles-" she muses, eyes flicking toward the undone jacket he's wearing, fingers reaching to flick the dark material affectionately. She does seem to mind herself after a moment, withdrawing those extended fingers, twisting her face toward the music as it starts to play and perks the interest of the man so clearly not hidden behind his mask. Zorro anyone?! She does nod though for his offer, slipping her hand into his own, "Don't step on my toes-" she worns, flashing off the brown and blue high heels, clearly developed for the single purpose of matching this dress and dancing. Said shoes click against the floor proper with each move.

Ace of Spades shakes his head slowly, but settles both hands on his hips. "This time?" Really now. He sighs though, peering at Blue Ice for a moment once she appears. "Yes, I suppose that it is, despite /some/ people standing over there, doing nothing at all." Does the masked man look offended? Perhaps he could be.

The ghosts of Weyrleaders past are the ones that draw Rose Red's lingering eye, if only for a few moments before slipping onward to the groups that seem to naturally be forming. "I see," says she, mouth pulling slightly to a side behind her fan. "Someone here attempted to teach me to dance. It was … unusual." Silence for a beat and then, "I am still not sure if knowing how to dance is worth it." Forgettable's arm is squeezed gently, then the young woman is looking at him from the corner of an eye. "It is a fitting choice," she determines.

Night Shadow finds herself smiling inadvertantly at the nerby's Sorka's comment, though the expression becomes grim when viewed through the veil. "I think you make a fine Weyrwoman indeed, my Lady Rider." Indeed, the glass of red wine is raised in salute, then another delicate sip taken beneath the filmy black darkness covering her face. "My complements."

Forgettable grunts once. "I'm inclined to agree with your mode of thought. Even the rudamentary knowledge that I posess hasn't served me in any great stead since I aquired it." THen he exhales a little with amusement. "Of course, it's very possible that neither of us realize the benefit of the knowledge because we haven't exactly gone out of our way to use it. Is it critical? I think not. But its value may lay in its use." He glances over at the Red Rose beside him for a moment before looking back out at the crowd. Perhaps as a testament to their nearly joined thought processes, his eyes are drawn to the would-be former weyrwoman as well and he shakes his head a little. Forgettable and Red Rose are attached to a patch of wall in some close proximity to the refreshments.

May Queen remains near the stage for a few minutes, soaking in the music as if it were rain falling upon fields left fallow too long. Her smile widens as she simply enjoys the atmosphere, and the beat of the music as it pulses throughout the dance hall. Even she, shy as she is, cannot long remain immune to the call of the song, and with something of a spring in her step, she traipses in the general direction of the refreshments — hopefully not bumping into anybody too hard in the process.

Blue Ice smiles lightly and nods, chuckling at the look on the Ace of Spades look. She blinks though when she's asked to dance and smiles at the man glad in green. "I'd love to dance." She says placing her glass on the nearest table and taking Pucks' hand to follow him out onto the dance floor.

Skyclad Gentleman merely regards the Ace of Spades quietly, repeating a soft, "This time." It's without much in the way of inflection, though perhaps it might be agreement. The dance floor is given a glan, with some reluctance, possibly wariness - one never knows what could happen, after all. And likely a touch unhappily as well. No good memories are in this place, that's for certain, as he suppresses something of a grimace. "I wouldn't mind a dance," is finally said eventually, sigh accompanying it as he straightens from where he'd been leaning against the wall, to offer the Ace of Spades an arm.

Raven has seemingly given up the search. Now near the buffet table, he browses the slection of finger foods, giving curt nods to anyone who may look his direction. Deciding quickly, turns from the table and nearly collides with the blue clad May Queen, bringing his total stumbles for the night up to two. "Pardon me." He says in a grunt, and with a tip of his hat wanders past Forgettable and Rose Red. His hazel gaze lingers on her for a moment with a bit of a smile. Well, he knows at least one person here at least, even if it is only an aquaintance. Then he finds himself a nice empty patch of wall and leans back, the silent observer.

A blizzard has set into the dance hall, and as the white cover steps through the entrance, the cold harsh eyes search the room. The cloak around his form hiding what lies beneath, step by step the heavy steps are heard. The music of the harpers, the view of the crowd, the white decorated tables making for a perfect way to blend somewhat. Though as he walks figures and voices are heard, and though the silent moving mountain of a man steps through the crowd, Frost never stops looking. Though nearing the others and again he turns to look at them trying to figure out some identities.

Rose Red flicks her fan just a little, enough to circulate some air and naught else. "I will concede your point," is intoned, "though the situational nature of it seems to limit its usefulness as well. Unlike sewing or gardening, which have broader applications, dancing is … simply that." And she's silent for a moment, pale eyes drifting from the collected crowd onto the Raven as he passes, a shallow inclination of her head offered by way of mute greeting. Acknowledgement — no, he is not entirely alone out here. Absently, "Fascinating array."

Sorka reaches out towards Sean, plucking once at the sandy blonde hair that has been carefully swept back on his head. It's only just possible to hear her low murmur, "Here's hoping that stays put for the rest of the night. Sharding shame it would be for Sean to suddenly have brown hair, hm?" Pushing up his mask a fraction, Sean drains some of his cider before letting the mask fall back into place with a simple movement, "I'd be more worried about getting it off at the end of the night. How many pins /did/ you put in there?" Chortling with amusement, Sorka squeezes his arm, a faint grin evident in her voice, "Atleast you didn't have to /dye/ your sharding hair, love." It's only then that she notices Night Shadow addressing her, considering she's unused to being talked to in such a manner. It's obviously her first chance to try to act leaderly, if she can manage it. Straightening up, she waves her hand in an airy fashion, "Fort's duties and all that sort of thing." Brushing absently at a lock of flaming red hair, she manages a little curtsy towards the dark-clad figure, "You've good taste, atleast. What's to stop Weyrwomen from swearing? Shards." Does she act Weyrwomanly? Not likely.

Captain Night shrugs lightly. "Great, well, as long as I go home with a kiss from you on my lips, I'll consider this a most profitable night." He brings her hand up to his lips, kissing the back of her hand before leading her out to join the dance. "I promise I won't step on your toes. I've been practicing." He winks at her before pulling her close, one hand resting on her hip and the other holding her hand as he picks up the tempo and leads her around the dance floor.

At least the Ace of Spades doesn't seem to mind at all in taking the Skyclad Gentleman's arm. He does start to move though, giving the other man a faint tug towards the dancefloor. "I'm fairly sure that there's nothing around here to prevent a dance. You're paranoid."

The various newcomers and passers by see Forgettable observing each in turn, head following each when his eyes cannot. When Raven passes by and nods their direction, he turns a little, leaning in. "One of yours, perhaps? I somehow doubt that there's anyone here that would recognize me, though I could be mistaken." He chuckles. "Have you been romping about through the ranks, making aquaintences?" This, in jest. He knows very well the truth of that. Still, Raven gets a curt nod from him as well. "Would you like to call him…her? over to speak to?"

May Queen turns rather red beneath the shield of her cobalt mask, stammering a touch herself. "It's a-alright, no harm done." Is it a trick of the light, or does she stand just a touch straighter, a touch of pride chasing away some of her otherwise withdrawn demeanor? But, before she can say anything further, Raven has disappeared into the crowd, leaving the May Queen to wonder who it is who just passed by. A quick glance to the refreshments table, a more lingering look upon the crowd and the retreating Raven, and one might wonder if she is perhaps working up the nerve to go after him, instead of remaining a lone bloom upon the wall. The moment passes, and she moves to retrieve two glasses of white wine, wending her way into the crowd once more, in search of the Raven who has flown away.

Puck glances at the two not entirely festive men as they discuss the act of dancing with much more thought than him and there's a tiny shake of his head. "It's a dance, you might as well if you're here." comes out a little cheekily before he finds his hand being taken. Distractable? Nah, never. Actually, he looks slightly surprised to have gotten an agreement. "I'm going to warn you now… I only just learned." Disclaimer is out, and he much more carefully makes his way to join the others dancing glancing over at the other at relatively random intervals. "Your dress is amazing."

Night Shadow's figure folds downward in something that might be a half-curtsey, though it's a very poorly practiced one. "Indeed. Duties." Another smile curves upwards, though it's also rendered oddly malicious from behind the concealing lace. "Thank you, dear. There's nothing to stop a Weyrwoman from swearing, I assure you. Who would dare? No Weyrleader I've ever heard of." There's the suggestion of a raised eyebrow directed at Sean, but then she's offering another of those bizarre half-curtseys. "But please, don't let one such as me stop your illustrious selves from a dance." There's a great deal of amusement in her voice, something that at least the veil can't muffle. "I would be appalled."

Skyclad Gentleman gives a soft, ungentlemanly snort at that, the Ace of Spades receiving a brief sidelong look, even as he's being tugged toward the dance floor. The Skyclad Gentleman goes, though, falling into step with the other man after a moment. "There's wine," is pointed out ratrher wryly, in answer, although his quiet voice does soften a little as he comments, "I'm surprised to see you here, this time. I thought.. you weren't fond of this sort of thing?"

Blue Ice smiles at Puck and shakes her head lightly, her curls rustling along with her skirts. "That's fine, I'm not particularly good at dancing myself. I'll try not to trip us up or anything." She flicks her gaze back to the men she'd struck up a conversation with. "The dance will probably be over by the time they make it out onto the floor." She giggles a little before looking down at her dress. "Thank you. You look pretty great to."

There would be a frosty lift of an eyebrow perked up on her forehead if the mask wasn't hiding it, for the lady in brown and blue seems quite undecided about a response to that, until she murmurs with a smirk, "I guess it depends on how well you dance?" No more shoe crushing stompings. Mother Winter does follow his lead out onto the dance floor though, her dress swishing about her legs as the shoes click aganst the floor, "You better have…" she seems in a better mood now, once the music plays and she gets the beat for it, her one hand lifting up to her shoulder the other in his hand, following easily to the steps of the music. She does give a little laugh, "So you have been practicing. I'm impressed."

"You might be surprised." Rose Red's chin jerks subtly in the direction of the Skyclad Gentleman to indicate him to the Forgettable one, "I have made some acquaintance with that one and his brother." And that pirate, wherever he's wandered off to is similarly indicated, "Another who I have crossed paths with. That one," the Raven, naturally, "and a few others here are all … familiar faces." Something about the revelation puzzles the young woman and she shakes her head. After a moment's observation, she says, "I think it best to leave that one to fly for now."

Sorka lets out her breath slowly, shoulders slouching as she looks towards the rapidly twirling and dancing people throughout the hall. It's a hesitant sort of look, as though she were debating something after Night Shadow's words. "Dance. Yes, of course. Weyrwomen /always/ dance, don't they?" she comments with a grumbling sort of tone, obviously not happy with the revelation. Perhaps her last encounter at this same dance hall is running through her mind - something that'd make anyone, Weyrwoman or not, take pause. Brushing her hands down over the front of her gown, she gives a final wave to the black-clad figure and turns towards Sean, reaching out to place a hand on his arm, "C'mon, love. We might as well make a show of it. No use being all sharding dressed up and just stand on the sidelines." Sean lets out a chuckle and sets his empty glass aside as he steps forward, "Fine by me. There's no lake to fall into here, atleast." Soon there's another couple added to the dancefloor, Sorka's flame red hair making them stand out rather readily amongst the pale blues and whites of the decorations. Not to mention, the click of her high heeled shoes provides a counterbeat to the Harper's rhythms.

"Yes, there's plenty of that, and I plan to have plenty more of it." The Ace of Spades turns a look onto the Gentleman he's with, sighing. "Why exactly do you insist on talking about who I am, or we are? This is supposed to be a night of anonymity. Stop..talking." He does round on the Skyclad one though, both hands lifting onto his shoulders. "So either dance, or I can leave right now.. Your choice."

From one upbeat melody to another in the same vein the Harpers go, having found their rhythm properly. One song blends into the next, a fusion of a traditional song into a much more modern variation of the same. More and more dancers — some bolstered by familiarity with the song and others with a glass (or two!) of wine — filter out onto the floor.

Forgettable chuckles. "You have been busy. Things appear to have come a long way from the swimming hole." Then he sighs a little. "You know, I feel bad about nver finishing that up. I don't like to leave jobs undone, even if they're ones taken on for recreation." Eyes follow Rose's mention of the Raven and he Mmms. "There's always one black bird in every flock, I suppose."

Puck manages to navigate to a clear space on the dance floor, giving the two novice dancers plenty of room to avoid foot stomping as long as they can miss each other's. After a moment of fumbling the green man manages to remember what he's doing, his free hand making it's way to the other's hip with a slight hesitation. Why again did he ask someone to dance? The grin manages to return though with a slight chuckle before he blushes just slightly. "Thanks, the clothes were a gift, so I needed to find someplace to wear them." Now comes the complication of a quicker rhythm as well as his partner's somewhat long dress. He'll stumble through his part and at least give the impression of dancing.

Skyclad Gentleman makes as if to reply, and then just closes his mouth with a soft sigh. "I'm sorry," is murmured after a moment, and another quiet sigh before he adds, "Alright." And he does indeed stop talking. He'll move his hands, though to the other's shoulder, holding his free hand out in silent offer.

Raven cranes his head back to look at the decorations on the stone wall he is leaning against, and this act is what finally sends the dyed feather that was so precariously perched in his hat away on a breeze generated by the people walking past. He leans down to grab it when another bypasser moves it still further from his reach. Stooped over in a crouch, he shuffles his way through the crowd, occasionally reaching out to try to stop the errant feather. Of course this means the dark haired fellow isn't reallyw watching where he is going, and he nearly bumbles into May Queen yet again. "How nice to run into you again." He says the words without thinking, and then winces under his mask. He really hadn't intended to make a pun.

"Well none have met a weyrleader so strong then…" The passing white blizzard states as he passes by a conversation about leadership, but no sooner than he speaks, than the blizzard has blown through leaving his cold chill behind. And in search of more that catch his interest, the cocky grin being shown to all as he passes. And once the eyes are upon the dance floor, the grin changes a bit, a playful look as he turns to one side. He slowly takes a few steps towards one of the beautiful dressed figures before him. "Why hello there, a mistake this man would make….if that mistake was to pass up a chance at a dance." He smiles leans down and reaches out his hand from underneath the cloak, to hold and possibly kiss. "Might I steal this dance?" The warm and jolly voice from the man asks this mystery woman.

Captain Night smiles almost rougishly at the blue and brown clad lady he's dancing with. "I told you I was. When I learned about the masquerade I spent more time working on dancing than my costume." He gives her a spin, twirling her before bringing her back to him. "You're pretty good at this too." He says with a smile for Mother Winter.

Rose Red smiles, though the expression is faint and suitably hidden. "Things have progressed, in a sense. Perhaps it was inevitable. I cannot say it has been terrible." The young woman adds, with mild amusement, "Winter ends soon enough here, if you are inclined to finish that lesson up. However, I would say that lesson was one well-taught, if incomplete." And, huh. She's laughing. Or, rather, there's a single, soft laugh for Forgettable, though no context is given — or needed, perhaps.

It's half a breath later when Forgotten's chuckle joines the brief one offered by the woman at his side. "That wasn't exactly the lesson I was aiming to teach, but it was a potent one taught, non-the-less." Her hand gets another squeeze before he looks back out over the crowd that's gathered. Then, without warning, he looks back, murmuring, "Someone told me that I skulk when I'm near other people. I don't…do that, do I? Skulk?"

Mother Winter steps in easy time with the Captain Night, tilting her head to the side as ringlets and curls bounce along with her movements, "Oh really? And why would you do that?" She says, quite interested to know why the foul-footed man would go out of his way to learn. She gives a playful laugh when she's spun out, sending her ruffled skirt of her dress flaring wide, left to animate around her when she's pulled back to his dance frame. Her smile broadens now, shaking her head, "Born in a small hold, remember? Not much else to do outside of chores than to learn the finer aspects of life. A backwater girl like myself always dreamt of attending a gather, after all-" she purses her lips, steps quick as she is taken around the dance floor, music guiding the sway of her hips.

With a final mysterious smile for the Ancient Weyrwoman, the Night Shadow resumes her solitary lurking by the refreshment table, content to watch the goings-on once more. She's swaying just a bit, in time with the music, and every now and then the sound of a low, muffled chuckle drifts up from beneath the veil. "Oh, goodness." She is, apparently, more than capable of amusing herself with nothing more than a glass of wine.

May Queen pitches forward slightly, the wine in the glasses threatening to spill their crystalline banks as she struggles for a moment to regain her balance. The crimson tinge to her cheeks, which had just begun to fade, returns with a vengeance as summer blue meets midnight once more. The smile that plays upon her lips speaks of apology, though the stammer of mere minutes past cannot be heard in her voice. "I think I ran into you this time. Are you alright?" She ducks her head, further obscuring her face. "I'm awfully sorry about that." The glass she proffers to her erstwhile companion might as well be a white flag, a banner of truce, held out with a hopeful air.

Blue Ice grins and nods. "I see. Well, it's a good thing this occasion came up then." She notes the slight blush but doesn't say anything about it. She just tries to follow him in the dance. She's a little confident in her dancing, but that doesn't really translate to actual movement though. Following Pucks stumbling sort of dance actually isn't so bad. It's actually pretty fun. She laughs a little at their mistakes. "This is great."

Rose Red purses her lips behind the fan, thoughtfulness writ on what of her face is visible. "In a sense, you do. Discarding the concept of 'evil' affiliated with it, you do keep to shadows, hide, and move stealthily." A shoulder lifts, drops, and then she's adding for Forgettable's sake, "But I do as well. Does the idea trouble you?" It doesn't bother her any, but, then, she's one part of the odd pair that's just watching the festivities unfold, rather than joining into the midst of things.

It's only belatedly that Night Shadow smiles up at Frost, that shadow of an eyebrow arching once more. "Hello there yourself, sir." She taps the wine glass against the side of her face, as if contemplating the white-clad man's very existence. "I suppose you might, at that." And then she'll set the glass down on the table and offer her black-clad hand for the taking.

Sorka flicks a bright flaming red lock of hair over her shoulder as she settles in close to Sean, settling one hand as regally as she can on his shoulder while proferring the other one. "I suppose no harm in trying to make this look good," she muses, a laugh muffled by her mask escaping her. Sean chuckles too, settling a hand at her waist and clasping her other, "No reason not to. As long as we don't /fall/." The dance begins - slow at first, but soon the couple picks up with the pace. The moves aren't as fancy or carefree as some of the other more experienced dancers, but atleast there isn't any toe-stepping or stumbling to be seen. After a while of swirling shimmery gold skirts, heel clicking and dancing, Sorka grumbles again in a very unWeyrwomanly fashion once more, "This mask is sharding /hot/. It's goign to be a job peeling it off my face at the end of the night, for Faranth's sake." Nevermind that she just swore by her own dragon, if she truly is supposed to be 'the' Sorka. With a slight movement, Sean leans in close to whisper something in Sorka's ear, which makes her break out in a chortle that has her stumbling once. Thankfully she picks up her steps quickly afterwards, a wicked note to her voice, "Want to try a spin? We can be daring tonight. We're Weyrleaders, afterall."

Puck doesn't keep color on his cheeks for very long, at least if there's any remnants of embarrassment the tanned nature of his skin manages to conceal it. After a bit of a rough start he at begins to relax, shoulders not nearly so tense and movement following suit. The effect is visible as his steps get less jerky and the grin grows brighter. "Apparently dancing is fun, who'd have thought." The change in music and beat may be gradual, but it causes a bit of a backslide as boots struggle to find the step once more. Sage eyes peek peer through the leafy mask after he falls into rhythm once more, and his mouth opens for a second before he apparently thinks better and slams it shut, attempting a brief twirl instead arm over the other's head.

Forgettable is still for a moment as he considers the other people in the room in a new light. "It doesn't bother me that I do it. It's habit, it's… I don't even think I realize I'm doing it anymore. But I think it bothers me that it…bothers other people, if that makes sense. I don't know any of these people, and to be blunt, I really don't care about any of them. That having been said, I don't really bear any of them ill will, and I'd just assum they didn't think poorly of me. I don't…really care if they do, I guess, but…" He lifts his other hand, grasping futily for better words.

Frost smiles as the hand is taken and with a small kiss planted up top he chuckles. "It's a pleasure…." The man says as his eyes study hers, and her voice and tone are what begin to give him hints beyond her looks. He steps with her hand in his towards the dance floor, he turns towards her and his hand wraps gently around her waist as his other hand is somewhat outstretched comfortably. The giant mountain of a man moving with surprising grace, and as he moves around with the music he says. "The weather here is cold….it's somewhat unlike easterns warm beaches." He grins, mask and cloak concealing all but his smile.

Captain Night shrugs at the question posed to him. "Oh, so I could dance with a beautiful lady tonight. You know, the basic reason someone learns to dance." He smiles at her laugh and smile. "True, I forgot about that. And now that adorable, backwater girl is in a weyr with the legendary dragonriders. How does that feel?" He asks, enjoying the dance greatly.

Night Shadow can't help the laughter that bubbles once more, though she certainly doesn't seem to protest the hands that are wrapping about her tightly. Indeed, she reciprocates with an arm around Frost's neck as she matches his paces with only a bit of stiffness. "Indeed it is. Colder than all the south, one might say. You're a fine representative of it yourself, I must say. Inspired, even."

Raven manages to get his foot on the feather and straightening up, pokes it back in the band of his hat, probably crookedly. With a smile he takes the offered glass of white wine, but pauses a moment to consider the woman before responding. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you." There is something about his voice. When standing silently to the side or uttering one word replies its easy enough to hide it. He…she? has the right kind of figure. But now that the beaked lurker is speaking in sentences, it's much harder to disguise the feminine voice. She may have practiced walking like a man, but talking like one? Not easy. She watches May Queen intently, waiting to see if she'll figure it out.

She purses her lips at him as her legs continue to move with the step, dipping and spinning, twisting and righting, "Just for that reason alone? You don't enjoy this?" she does sway her hips a bit closer to him, winking as she skirts away just as quick into a turn, glancing around over Captain Night's shoulder - watching a few others on the dance floor before her conversation settles back to the man masked before her. "Still overwhelming, especially since that adorable girl is now one herself." She drops her chin as she grins with a giddiness to her expression, "I was thinking about going there to visit for a while. Take some time to myself."

"People are strange, when you are a stranger," muses Rose Red. "You are not as forgettable as you may wish to be — any more than I am." Forgettable's arm is gently squeezed and then she half-turns, the better to look at the hooded figure. "But, better to be remembered in the light of being nondescript than remembered as being the one who stands out in the crowd, perhaps." At least, that's her perception. The yound woman in red considers for a moment, falling silent to study the gathering.

It's not a moment after the Skyclad Gentleman ofers his hand that pale eyes go distant. There's a soft sigh, and a murmured, "There's something I have to deal with.." and then he turning to go, not without an apologetic look, slipping through the crowd and out of the dance hall, presence fleeting as the soft clouds his garments mimic.

Ace of Spades blinks a moment, halting all movement when the Skyclad Gentleman is..called away? What? He stands there though for a moment, before a few muttered curses come out and he stalks off through the crowd himself. His destination is quite clear when he grabs another glass of wine, downing part of it quickly.

Frost laughs long when she says towards him, then he looks down quickly at her outfit and says. "Oh but yours my lady is one of grace, but why would one like yourself with such a kind and bright personality try to fool me?" He smiles and then as he dances he turns to glance towards one part of dance floor as he turns towards her, he leans in and whispers something to her. Then he leans back and with a loud bolsterous laugh he dances through the crowd, his giant form pushing anyone that might decide to dance against him.

Blue Ice nods, laughing still as they both get comfortable in their dancing. "It is /very/ fun." She declares. She tilts her head a bit when he opens his mouth to speak and was going to ask what he was about to say, until he's turning her around. A bright smile pops up on her face as she's twirled.

May Queen 's eyes narrow a touch in the midst of the mask, and she tilts her head thoughtfully to one side. Something is definitely not right with this one; but, given the nature of the evening, she brings little attention to her suspicions. "Good, I'm glad." Whew. One awkward moment past, the third for her thus far in this whirlwind of an evening. Her regard of the glass in her hand is a bit more intent, though she appears hesitant to drink. "I'm sorry to have been any trouble." With that, she offers another smile and takes a step or two backwards — hopefully, not into anyone's immediate path!

There's a sudden flash of flame red and gold as Sorka is spun outwards, rather awkwardly, from Sean, their hands remaining linked at the apex. For a second she stands there, wobbling, before she manages to be drawn back in, clutching at Sean's shoulders and laughing fit to burst. "/Shells/," she manages, gasping and staggering back into dance steps that are hard to do while laughing, "I suppose maybe we should practice that more." There's a hint of amusement in her voice, albeit muffled. Sean is too busy laughing, too, to make much of a reply at first, but he soon manages, "Why don't we bow out before we ruin the images of Sorka and Sean for everyone forever?" Snorting once, Sorka lets out another chortle but soon lets herself be lead off the dancefloor, "Sounds sharding good to me." It's not long before she's deposited fairly close to Rose Red and Forgettable as Sean goes to get more refreshments. "Anything much going on in this corner?" Sorka asks, glancing towards the pair as she leans back against the nearest wall to take a breather.

"Perhaps there's some truth in what you say," Forgettable murmurs. "Still, at the end of the day, I think that I care more for the few people that I've come to spend time with." Then he's looking out over the masses again. "You know," he offers calmly, "Some few people know who we are here…" He gestures to the floor. "Do you want to… try? Out there, I mean? Or perhaps someplace less… here?"

Captain Night gives Mother Winter a considering look. "Well, I do very much enjoy dancing with /you/, I'll admit." He pulls her a little closer, moving with her but still leading them around, keeping with the beat of the music. He grins when she admits things are still overwhelming for her. "Well, everyone need a break every now and then. And I'll bet that little hold is quite a nice place to visit." Yes, that's a sage nod.

Puck reels the other back in seeming much more at ease as his hand falls back into position. "Your dress was made to spin, apparently." Hopefully the woman isn't the sort to get nauseas, because twirly skirts are fun and he tosses a few more spins in here and there simply because he can. His own outfit swishes with the moves to an extent, but it's not nearly as exciting. Movement across the floor is noticed though and there's a pause in step as he gets distracted. "Aw shards, I forgot I was supposed to meet up with" that cuts off with a blink and he simply gives the other a slightly sheepish smile. "but I don't think I can be blamed for snagging up a beautiful lady for a dance."

"As do most people," she points out, giving that arm a light squeeze. There's a contemplative pursing of lips, then: "Perhaps. It is statistically unlikely to end terribly, regardless of where it is attempted." Ah! And then they have a bit of company, which earns a shallow nod of acknowledgement. "Another familiar face," is offered, sidelong, to Forgettable upon Sorka's arrival. Rose Red closes her fan with a deft motion, inclining her head to the living ghost of a Weyrwoman. "It depends upon your definition of 'much'." A half-smile quirks at the corner of her mouth. "I trust the gentleman from the other night was able to return from whence he came in one piece?"

Night Shadow is content to be whirled about — in fact, she's rather graceful as she follows Frost's lead around and around the dance floor. "Yourself as well," she murmurs up to her partner, even as her gaze drifts across the floor towards some of the other whirling pairs. "Glad to find someone familiar. And of course, I'm glad to help a gentleman such as yourself." Indeed, she leans further into Frost to emphasize the contrast of black against white, and lets out a bright laugh at some unheard jest. "Please, lead away my good sir of the blizzard."

Raven shrugs a little. Either she's better at this than she thought, or May Queen knows, and is willing to play along. Either way works for her. Raven raises the glass up to her in something of a toast, and very carefully takes a sip, trying hard not to colide with the big beak on the mask. Ooo, wine. She hasn't had any of this in a while. This could be dangerous. Remembering that she still has a roll to play she stands up a little straighter and tries again to sound less feminine, with limited success. "It was no trouble at all my lady."

There's a flourish of colour over Captain Night's shoulder, one in which Mother Winter spots - though it's not so much colour as black and white. She knits her brow together, squinting her eyes to get a better look. Alas, the movements of their own dance take them away from the other couple about to bounce into them. Her attention pops back to Captain Night, her own arm shifting to help them dance a little closer together than before, movements flowing more fluidly now that they're closer together. "I admit, I wasn't so keen to dance with you -" prior experiences and all, "-though you've decidedly changed my mind." Her eyes flash over his shoulder again, then back to see a couple other pairs dancing, smirking back at the man guiding her around the dance floor, "It'd be nice to pay them a visit, maybe see Eastern again. Feel the sun on my skin, the sea breeze through my hair."

Forgettable smirks. "All the better to attempt it somewhere else then." Then Sorka is walking over and he's falling quite still. If the Red Rose knows this person, it's for her to speak out about what she will. Sorka is simply given a polite nod, for his part.

Sorka fans at herself absently, trying to get some relief from the heat that the full face mask is causing. It doesn't do much but cause a few strands of her flame red hair to flutter about her face, though. "I'd term anything being something that's interesting or different. But that's hard to classify in this sharding rabble." She jerks a thumb at the milling people and their fanciful costumes before breathing out a sigh that whistles slightly through the mask covering her face. The mention of the events of theo ther night has her chortling a bit, arms folding over her chest, "I don't think they fell off, if that's what you mean. But I imagine it wasn't very comfortable for him to go back to Bitra. A pool cue to the nether regions can do that." Another unWeyrwomanly thing to talk about - someone's nether regions. But she's proving to be not a typical Weyrwoman, even with her fake knot perched on her shoulder. Flicking another lock of bright red hair over her shoulder, she eyes Forgettable closely, "Nots ure I know your friend."

"One with such beauty, grace, and a sense of humor." He laughs his dancing moving around, the two swirling around the other pairs. His deep manly laugh, reverbirating in his chest when he looks down to the contrasting woman. "A pleasure indeed, a mistake was not made…..and how is yours?" He asks not giving away too much detail to anything." Then the large thick man swirls around and as his eyes flicker over towards the colors in his eyes, there is a grumble and a look down to the smaller woman and another lean in to whisper. And then the man looks to the the harpers and motions something to them, and then turns to Night Shadow and he chuckles. "We obviously are not doing our job." A large grin on his face.

Either Raven is better at this little game than she thinks, or perhaps May Queen knows and is simply allowing her facade to remain intact. Either way, the cobalt-clad woman — for there is indeed no mistaking what she is — finds it difficult to make any sort of a graceful escape. In turn, she too straightens up, the music, wine, and simple finery bolstering her nerve. "I'm glad for that… and for a new friend." There, she pauses, nibbling on her lower lip as if perhaps afraid of saying too much, considering her next words carefully. "I've been to Gathers, but nothing quite like this."

"Of course," Rose Red intones. Sorka's fanning elicits what might be an unusual gesture … the woman in red simply offers over her paper fan, ready to be popped open and put to use. "Interesting and different are all matters of perception. My friend," and the word is clumsily placed, as if it's not filling the niche it should, "and I were discussing the merits of dance and pondering the motivations of people when it comes to choosing their masks." There's a pause, the red-wearing one regarding Sorka with a bland look, then: "Good. He really should not have been where he was." And as for her friend? A nod and a faint smile, "You would not. He is visiting for a little while."

"Oh, as well as can be expected. She designed this., you know. A habit of hers, dressing me as she sees fit. And yours?" Night Shadow follows the swirl with a flourish, her delight apparent in the gleaming of emerald eyes. "Careful with me, my dear. I'm not as spry as I used to be— though I do feel twenty turns younger. Perhaps I'll just keep you to myself, instead. It's been long enough." There's that smirk again, surprisingly carefree, as she drapes herself over the white-clad form. Despite her apparent fixation on Frost, however, a certain word causes her head to tilt marginally, and her gaze flickers over Mother Winter in a way that deepens the smirk and prompts another low laugh. "I think you might be mistaken, My Lord Blizzard. But— let's. Only if you promise not to break me!"

Forgettable shakes his head slowly. "No, weyrwoman, I'm afraid you don't know me. An interloper of sorts. I was part of the relief that came in when the tunnels beneath the weyr proper collapsed, and have cycled in and out to relieve certain of the weyr's staff while they recover. Nothing any more important than that, I think." He nods once in appreciation for her dress. "One could argue that you, however, are, with such attire."

Captain Night isn't as observant of other dancers, but it's ok since no one has hit them or vice versa, right? He's just enjoying the dance with the lovely Mother Winter. "Well I'm glad you accepted my invitation then. I had to make up for stepping on you foot." He smiles at the idea of the sea breeze and the sun. "That does sound pretty nice. And the perfect weather, but I don't know if such a wintery figure could stand up to the heat."

Sorka reaches out, plucking the fan from Rose Red's grasp with a thankful sigh, "Shells. Thanks. These masks seemed wonderful to begin with, but I never stopped to sharding think how /hot/ it'd get with them on." Flicking the fan open, she lifts her mask up a bit and fans slowly, letting cool air drift in where it hasn't been all night. For a few seconds she just revels in the cool air, slowly working her wrist back and forth to let the fan do its work as she surveys the crowd, "Good question, that. Does that mean I'm egotistical or self-centered to have chosen my mask?" There's amusement in her voice, even if any expression is hard to glean with her full face mask covering pretty much everything, bar the slight movements that can be seen through the few parts of the mask that remain open. Turning back to Forgettable, she flicks her fan in a regal sort of way, attempting her Weyrwoman attitude again, "Fort's duties to you, then. Nice to meet you and all that." She brushes her free hand over her gown absently,
"I suppose it's what I get for having a weaver for a mother, hm? It didn't turn out bad." Eyeing Rose Red, she looks thoughtful, "Did you do the costume yourself, then? Or … get someone else to do it?"

Raven tilts her head a little as she considers May Queen's words. She called her a friend. Which seems a little odd, considering the two of them don't even know who the other is - she's pretty sure she doesn't recognize the voice anyhow. Raven stretches a bit. "Oh, you mean a masquerade? I've never been to one either…" She hadn't been planning to come to this one in fact, except that a certain someone convinced her to, with the idea that she wouldn't necessarily need to get dolled up and wear a dress. A certain someone who was still no where to be found. Almost as if on cue, a dancing couple get near to where they are standing, and Raven catches a glimpse of black and green through the crowd. It could have been him.

"Let us hope your companion does not melt in the meantime, then, if the masks are that hot." There's just a slight tilt of her head, Rose Red's expression settled into neurality as she studies Sorka. "It depends upon your perception, in the end. It could be construed as an honest attempt at honoring them. It could also be construed as egotistical. In either case, that is from the outside looking in; your motivations are, clearly, your own." The young woman shakes her head slightly, a coil of dark hair snaking over her shoulder in the process. "It is a compilation of items which, when combined with particularly overbearing weavers, results in … this." Artificially reddened lips twitch to a side. Like as not, coming wasn't entirely her idea.

Blue Ice is still a little giddy to the have been spun, she doesn't have a lot of experience in it after all. "I guess it was." She fixes her mask on her face a little better, not wanting it to come off while she's dancing, after all it's only tied over her loose hair. Luckily she isn't the type to get sick easily from being spun around because she's having a ball and it would be a shame to get sick in the middle of it all. She arches a brow that barely reaches above her mask. "You were supossed to meet up with someone?" She smiles though when she's called beautiful. "Why thank you, and I certainly can't blame you for it." She chuckles a little and glances around the hall as they move. "Unless you were meeting a girl, then you might get into a little trouble."

Mother Winter's fingers lift up to the man's face, touching gently the sides of his mask and then down his jaw line, "And you're doing just fine-" her fingers taper down his jaw ridge before she settles it back on his shoulder, turning her face down from him as cheeks show a rosy-shade as if she was outside in the freezing cold. Her arm sweeps down behind her though in a move that has her bending to one side, showing her dexterity and flexibility on the dance floor, sweeping a portion of her dress up to flare it out as she does a fancy step in the arms of Captain Night. As her form curls back up in a sensual arch, she does smirk at him, "I'm better suited to be in a yellow dress under a hot sun rather than in layers of fur in the white snow. But a queen doesn't exactly pick where she is to rule, she just does…" Alas, no Eastern sun beaches for her lifemate to preside over, just rugged mountainous terran! "What about you? Working hard these days?" Her eyes flitter over toward that black and white couple gliding by, her lips pursing taught at something she may or may not hear, keeping her mind on the dance she does less she step on Captain Night's toes!

Is that a soft curse beneath May Queen's breath, at the realization of her friendship faux pas? No, it could as easily have been a dancer whirling past whose toes have been stepped on one too many times. Either way, she ducks her head, taking another step backwards. "I'd better let you look for them, then. And I really am sorry to have been such trouble!" Yep. Open mouth, swallow up to the hip! In a swirl of cobalt, she twirls away, something akin to stage fright sapping her resolve, at least for now. Would she have the luxury of a graceful retreat?

Forgettable looks between Sorka and the Red Rose while they speak, the shroud on his face quivering with hidden mirth. "Personally, I think that the outfit is somewhat fetching on you, but then, my own sense of fashion is somewhat…wanning." Sorka's offered duties are met with a brief wave of a gloved hand. "You're generous to offer your duties, but I'm deserving of none of them. I'm bound to no weyr that requires them, and hold no rank that warrants them." He nods his head again in thanks, however. "I render my services where I can." He glances at Rose again. "Do you want me to get you another beverage?" THen a glance to Sorka. "You?"

"Oh keep me for yourself….isn't that a bit selfish…." He chuckles making sure to take it a bit easier on the dancing and moving in a certain direction that only he seems to know. "Do you think you could fight the hoards of women that want me?" He laughs and dances on, his large bulky form moves quite differently as his eyes land on something that has the man with a bit more fire than cold in his eyes. "Oh my lady, seems that she might not want me anyways." He forces a smile as he dances towards another couple, though not forcing his way in a direction. "Perhaps you would get to keep me." He's trying to not let his temper get the better of him, but the storm is beginning to brew, and it's a blizzard.

Puck pauses noticeably at the mention of meeting a girl, jaw working just briefly. "Meeting a friend." is managed with a grin that falters as he contemplates once more the gears nearly audible. "Though I might get in trouble for ditching said friend at a party I told them to come to." It's quite obvious that he's voicing a thought process still in action. At least he can do that an keep his feet mainly moving, as the pair is miraculously still dancing. The white dress gets one more spin before he offers a somewhat reluctant "perhaps we should stop for a drink and I can peek around."

"Oh? One such as I would need to /fight/ them? Is that so?" There's a wealth of amusement in Night Shadow's voice, even as she pulls away and back to execute a quick turn. "If your card is so full, perhaps I'd best take myself off to find a more willing partner." But there's no bite to her tease, because she molds herself once more to Frost's form. "My dear, I think you're going about this all wrong." She's breathing a bit heavily now, and the careful observer would note her steps are growing heavy. But there's a sudden pressure now in the hands at Frost's neck and back, as she attempts to subtly direct their gyrations towards the colorful splash that is Captain Night and Winter Mother. She leans in again to murmur something else, softly, into Frost's ear, letting her veil brush against the side of his face.

As if on cue, Sean melts out of the crowd carrying two slender flutes of ice water - something a bit more refreshing to say the least. "Sorry I took so long, love. I nearly had to mob an old lady wearing an entire wherry's worth of feathers to get at the refreshments table." A low chuckle breaks free from him. Sorka chortles as well and she flicks the fan closed, holding it out to Rose Red so that she's free to take the offerred water. "Thanks, love. I was about to /die/ of overheating here. That'd be a sharding shame," she muses, tilting her mask up so that she's fre to take a drink while Sean offers his greetings to both Rose Red and Forgettable. "Weavers are always overbearing. I had to grow up with one," Sorka finally says to Rose with a snort, a roll of her eyes just visible behind the screens inset in the eyeholes of her mask, "Shells and shards." Breathing out a relieved sigh, she takes another sip of water, obviously acting less and less Weyrwomanly all the time. "Eh," she says to Forgettable, "No problem. It just seemed like a Weyrwomanly thing to do. Offer duties and all that nonsense. Not that I have much experience in the role. Other than doing a sharding load of paperwork and sitting through /boring/ meetings." The mere memory has her yawning a bit and she then blinks, lifting her glass of water, "I'm fine on refreshments. Watch out for the old lady guarding the table, though." Sean lets out a laugh and makes a motion with a hand, "She's /fierce/."

Blue Ice does at least have an understanding and patient face for the thought process going on in her dance partner. She nods though when the suggestion to stop for a drink is brought up. "Sounds like a great idea. I am pretty thirsty now and this would be a good time to look for your friend since you've remembered them now."

"You would. But, as has been established, you are incorrigible." This is good-naturedly said, another of those soft, singular, laughs escaping Rose Red. Perhaps the mask /is/ doing something to break down her normally taciturn manner. "Water will suffice, thank you." The offered fan is summarily taken, though not opened again to cover her face. She unwinds her arm from that of her companion, if only purely for him to be free enough to get the offered drink. A nod is given to Sean as he arrives, the young woman lapsing into a bit of silence for the time being.

"Well there is only one light in my eyes unfortunately!" He has to say somewhat loudly toward in the noise of the music. "And many may be on my card….but there is only one for me." His deep voice smiling towards and then he feels her slow and he walks her away towards the edge of the dance floor towards the table. The thick bulky man, smiles as he walks her over as he turns towards the dance floor and he looks back. "I don't take advice very well….so I am trusting you." The man winks, turns, and steps through the pairs of dancers, and soon eyes are on Mother winter and Captain night. "Excuse me good sir…might I steal a dance?" Though the dancing it hard to approach, and he looks to the woman and takes a deep breath. "

Raven stands in puzzlement as May Queen departs. What was that all about? That question could be applied to just about anything the woman in blue had said though. "Well, goodbye then." She calls to the departing figure. "What a strange girl." She says quietly to herself. And then Raven finds herself alone once more. The party has been going on for some time now, it's certainly not early anymore. She weighs her options, stay and hope to find him, or duck out. She takes another sip of the wine, it's almost gone now. She could at least drop the glass back off at the refreshment table before departing.

The quicker music starts to wane, the melody drifting through a transmutation into a romantic ballad. The lyrics are picked up and sung by one of the female Harpers, her voice light and sweet and contrasted only periodically by her male counterpart from time to time. Slow and rhythmic, just the kind of thing to get people dancing close.

Forgettable gives the Rose's hand one final squeeze. "I'll be back in a moment," he murmurs reassuringly. Sorka and Sean are given another nod, and when he stands, he offers Sean his seat. "I've been sitting for some time anyway, so I should probably stand for a bit." Then he's doing just that, and ghosting over to the line at the refreshment table…

Puck can only partially interpret facial expressions right now, it's amazing that even a half mask can have that effect. "Don't tell that I forgot." Oh yes Blue Ice is getting eyed there for a moment before he grins brightly. "I might never hear the end of it even if you don't." The hand drops from her waist but his right still holds onto hers as he tries to find them a path to the drink table. As the music changes something flitters across his face. Relief? Dissapointment? Nothing is said though as they go. Once they reach a table a certain beaked figure with a black hat and feathers gets a more than slightly sheepish look. "Oh, hey." And a quiet cough. "enjoying the dance?" oh yes, there's a definite 'please forgive me' and bit of a wince. "this is um" blink. Introductions really just don't work especially as he doesn't know who his partner happens to be.

Captain Night smiles as Winters fingers move over his face and when she ducks her head. "Thank you." He nods lightly at her desires to want to be in lighter clothes and under the sun. "I'm sure you're well suited to that climate. I know how much you prefer the warmth, but we do what we're called to do right?" He shakes his head lightly at her question. "I haven't been working as hard as I used to. I feel downright lazy now-a-days with only half my past duties on me still." He stops them both when another dancer approaches and looks between him and Mother Winter. "Well, I think that's up to this lovely lady. What do you say? Would you like to continue dancing or would you like to rest your feet and get a drink?"

Night Shadow continues to swirl around to the refreshment table, then offers a reassuring smile to Frost as she's more or less abandoned to her own devices. "Don't you worry about it. If you want it, just do it. Playing games is for the young." And given the heavy way she's breathing and surruptitiously rubbing at the small of her back, she isn't amongst their numbers any longer. One eye is kept on Frost's progress as she goes to retrieve another glance of wine, offering a smile for Forgettable as she pauses beside him at the refreshment table to murmur, "Wonderful night."

Sorka swirls the water in her glass and takes another long sip, sighing happily at the cool liquid, "Sharding wonderful." Fanning herself with her hand again, she turns to look at Rose Red for a moment, lifting her glass towards her, "I think ah … /Sean/ … " She casts a glance at Sean, a chortle escaping her still, before her attention goes back to Rose, " … I think we're going to go find somewhere to rest our feet." The fact that there's only one empty seat next to Rose seems to be an issue in itself, considering there's certainly not enough room for the pair of them to sit, "Plus. I think the appetizers are calling." Taking anothers ip of water, she positions her mask back over her face and waves to Rose. Sean, too, offers a wave, "Nice to see you." And then he and Sorka move off into the distance, soon disappearing into the crowd with only the flame red hair and shimmery gold gown marking their passing.

"Be well." It's all that needs to be said, in the end. Rose Red remains standing as she is, watching Sorka and Sean as they depart before her pale gaze roams anew through the hall. More familiar faces, hidden as they are, are caught and considered by the temporarily mute figure in red and gold. The young woman's eyes stray back to the refreshments in due course, patiently awaiting the return of her Forgettable friend … while surveying the other costumes laid out on display in that line.

Blue Ice smiles at the feathered man and holds out a hand to shake with. "Hello, I'm sorry I stole your friend but he's a great dancer. A lot of fun." She doesn't share that the friend was forgotten or anything. Really, she'll be good. "How's your evening going?" She tries to make conversation.

Strange or not, May Queen is simply what she is. And that, once again, seems to be a wallflower, for she beats a discreet retreat to the refreshments table, her wine as yet untouched. What could be her hesitation? As she brushes past Rose Red, she offers a tentative smile beneath her mask, still feeling the sting of embarrassment. But that is all, for now, her voice silenced.

Winter's smile is like a preview of the coming spring, a hint of warmth behind it but still edged in the wariness of winter's chill. She does nod at the mention of having to do what's called upon them to do, pulling closer to Captain Night when the music makes it easier to do so, "I wish I could say the same.. It seems my work has doubled…" she sighs quietly, "This is about as lazy as I get these days. And I almost didn't join in the fun, for the amount of things I've yet to do. The holder's are in an uproar of late…" Her eyes dance around Captain Night, seeing no one near by to crash into, thankfully. Still, there's a few things she hears over the music, someone being boastful perhaps. Either way, her feet keep moving until Captain Night has them both stopped for the voice of another. Her face twists to greet Frost, saying nothing for the moment as Captain Night gives her a few options. Ever stuck between a rock and a hard place? This would be her, her eyes flashing back to Captain Night then over to Frost. "Boys…" she warns with a subtle threat building in her tone, thankful that neither has taken up arms again. Still, she does nod to Frost, turning back to Captain Night, "We'll share a drink after I grace the floor with another dance." There's a bit of a hitch in her voice, her eyes carefully swaying between the two, forcing herself to keep her manners, "Thank you for the dance-" she steps up to him and gives him a squeezed hug, before turning to Frost and looking him up and down, "Sir-" her hand stretched to him, "the music awaits."

Raven is waiting in the line for drinks when she finds herself face to face with Puck and Blue Ice. Well, not quite face to face with the maks and all. She eyes Blue Ice critically and then smirks at Puck. "Forget something, did we?" Yeah, it sounds pretty sarcastic. And anyone within hearing range who isn't drunk or otherwise absorbed may notice that the thin young man with the beak and feathers is speaking in an awfully high voice for a guy. The worried look she is getting from Puck though breaks the momentary tenseness, and a smile appears from underneath the beak. She's willing to be charitable, it is a party afterall. "Yes, I am having fun as a matter of fact." She takes the offered hand and shakes it briefly but briskly. Men are suppose to have firm handshakes, right? "And how are you both this evening?"

The tentative smile of the May Queen is echoed in one of Rose Red's one, thin and rapidly fading as it is. There's an inclination of her head in silent acknowledgement, but this is one who has lost the lion's share of social grace. She simply ducks back a step, skirts swirling, and folds her bare arms loosely about her midsection. There's yet much to see going on and people-watching is especially interesting when relative anonymity is to be had.

Frost looks to the other man and realizing just who this might be, the grin is nearly gone. The words when he asks Mother winter her decision has him looking over to her and when she seems to hesitate the cloaked figure clenches his fists underneath the white cloth. Eyes flicker between the two and just when the heat is getting to him, she nods and then the man walks up to him. The man stretches out his hand letting it slide between the cloak and taking her hand, though as he walks off the man turns his head towards Captain Night, and were it not for the mask the look would be unmistakeable. "I suppose the music does…" The man looks off towards the tables and nods towards a little someone with a smile. The fist having to uncleanch before he can take her in his arms and as the music is slow he breaths deeply and says. "I can't seem to leave you alone….before someone is stealing you away from me…" The man says then keeps his eyes from looking into hers.

Puck can't even pull off the big puppy dog 'please forgive me' eyes from behind the mask, it's rather unfortunate. Then again who knows if they'd actually work. But apparently Raven is willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, or at least let it slide. "Not exactly." Is offered in a totally unhelpful response. "Great is an overstatement" but there's a smile on his face. "But it was fun, it helps to have a good partner." Apparently Puck is enjoying himself, and there's a peek over at Blue before his question goes back to the friend he didn't forget, really. "Have you danced at all?"

People-watching does seem to be the order of the evening, one which the May Queen settles herself into with the ease of long familiarity. Retrieving a small plate, she fills it with a few light finger foods, and retreats to a corner, observing the dances around her rather than stepping out—for now. Only for now.

It's some time before the Forgettable man returns with a few flutes of juice. On finding those seats empty, he glances over to the Rose, raising a brow beneath his shroud. "Was it something I said?" He offers the flute to her without another word before moving around to stand behind her, resting one hand on her shoulder. "I haven't sat for that long in awhile," he murmurs.

When Winter steps into Frost's arms, her cheeks are flushed, perhaps for the tension that immediately built between the two or for the fact that she's been dancing for a time now. Either way she doesn't seem as comfortable when the blizzard of a man has the lead, trying to sort out her limbs and how he steps with her own. Her eyes flash a little heatedly toward his face for the comments made afterward, "I refuse to feel apologetic for dancing with someone else other than you sir. Isn't that what the point of this is all about?" She gestures with her hand that's on his shoulder toward all the decorations, "It's not like you weren't just doing the same." Her tone is flat as she pointedly looks aside from him, concentrating on the footing of the slower song.

Night Shadow has taken her time in retrieving her glass of wine, and now she returns to the side of the dance floor, watching Mother Winter and Frost with that same amusement. "Nearly as young as my son, he is," she murmurs to nobody in particular. But then she finds herself sidling towards Night Captain and offering him a concilatory smile for one garbed nearly as darkly as she herself. "Nice piece of dancing, that."

The fan is problematic, but managed as gracefully as she can; Rose Red keeps the end loop of it between pinky and ring finger, hanging free while she takes the offered glass. "No. They wanted somewhere else to rest and to acquire appetizers," is matter-of-factly replied to the Forgettable one that moves behind her. She doesn't look back at him, though for the hand at her shoulder, her free one lifts to rest on it. "It did not seem to kill you," she muses. "Perhaps that is a sign you should try to do it more."

Captain Night bows and smiles lightly at Mother Winter. "As you wish. Enjoy your dance." He moves off the dance floor to find a place to sit and watch the dancing continue. Though his smile doesn't last long as he watches Winter's facial expression. He knows who Frost is, but he's not going to go and ruin a good celebration.

Forgettable blinks. "You think I should…spend more time sitting down, for the sake of…what, exactly?" He looks down at her amusedly. "Is there anything else running around in there that you think I should do?" She gets another squeeze of the shoulder before he looks back out at the crowd. "It looks like this is starting to wan a little. Do you knwo how long such things normally last?"

"No your right….you could have been dancing with anyone…oh but it wasn't…." He decides it better an idea to not say another word when he listens a bit longer he looks and says. "Oh really…I did so only so I only came because I knew you'd like it if I did….I got dressed up….got all fancy…" He grumbles a bit longer and feeling the akwardness of the dance due to the tension he sighs. "I don't even know why I came…." Though he does know why he came he just looks down into her face. "….I just thought it would be something that would make you happy….this stupid costume took forever…..I look rediculous." He shakes his head and turns again towards Night Shadow with a certain look of I told you so.

Blue Ice smiles and shrugs putting her hands in her lap after she's had her hand shake. "Well I thought it was great. All that spinning. It was really fun." She pushes the loose black curls over her shoulder and smiles at the pair of them. "Out of curiosity, you haven't seen that Gentleman in blue have you?" So that's very vauge, but that's the best way she can describe him. "I was talking to him when you asked me to dance." She explains further to Puck.

"It is less conspicuous than skulking," Rose Red offers to the Forgettable one, her head tipping back and up a little to regard him. A joke, apparently. "I have no further ideas on what you should do," she continues, though his hand is squeezed. "We could attempt to dance," a laughable concept, really, even if she's not laughing. "I imagine it will not last much longer at this pace unless they have reserve Harpers to keep up the music." For, indeed, the Harpers that are playing are shifting down to another slow song and a hint of weariness is showing in their features, if not in their music.

Night Shadow does catch the myriad looks being directed her way by Frost, and swallows her mirth long enough to gesture eloquently for the large man to continue on— and to stop looking at /her/, though the exhasperated expression might be more than a bit concealed by the filmy cloth covering her face. "Faranth, men. /Bronzeriders/."

Raven looks between the two of them, and an odd little smile graces her lips. But with the mask, it's hard read any further into the expression than that. "Well I'm glad your both having a good time. I haven't danced, but that's alright." Really, it is. She may have had a couple quick dance lessons before tonight, they may have even been for the guy's part instead of the girl's, but really, she wouldn't be much good with that minimal ammount of traning. Best not to put it to the test. At Blue Ice's question she furrows her brow, not that anyone can see it. "I remember you standing by him earlier, but I don't believe I have seen him since."

Her eyes flash back toward Mr. Frost, her own gaze hardened to show the ice in unison to the fingers of it that trims around her painted face. Her mask despite its best intent, doesn't necessarily hide who she truly is and matched now with the big guy, it wouldn't be hard to pick out who is the real Weyr leads tonight - tension certainly brewing however. She huffs a little, turning her face down as he speaks, shaking her head to make a few of her ringlets bounce around near her shoulder, "If you look ridiculous, then we all do. But the point is to get us all together, to foster a positive environment…" she regards the harper stage that plays yet another slow tune, keeping herself at a slight distance from Frost, but close enough to carry on with the steps. "I'm grateful that you came— " whatever else she was about to say trails off when he looks over her shoulder, her own line of sight following over toward Night Shadow. Her lips thin a bit more, posture turning a little more rigid and not so flexible as before - thankfully the slow dance doesn't require much other than following a few simple steps.

Silence is the better part of valor, May Queen happy enough to keep to herself, so it seems. Though from time to time, she does cast what might be interpreted as a wistful glance towards some of the couples dancing, then down to her wine glass. Oh well, bottoms up! She downs some of the heady stuff, the flush that comes to her cheeks telling the tale of a teetotaler.

Forgettable smiles slightly. "So now that it's dying down, you actually want to dance?" He chuckles for a moment before looking back out over the floor. "I suppose, if we're gonna do it, we should do it now, while the harpers are still here. I have enough of a problem with my rhythem when there's actually music to be had. No one is prepared for what will happen if I try without it…"

Frost takes little time for the white bulky man to realize something very clearly…that the goal was to bring all together. And though he came for another reason he see's he's only making things worse, he watches the gaze from the woman and a deep breath as he says. "It's obvious that I am not the only one you want to see your light…." He slows mid music and then his hands leave her's, his hands dive underneath the cloak and he looks at her with something. "I suppose I was foolish to think that your light would be mine alone. Go to him then…enjoy the dance." The bronzer throws off his cloak and rips the mask away from his face as he walks through the crowd. His steps heavy and the look on his face anything but a happy one, his direction that of the exit.

"It is an option," Rose Red counters. She sips from her glass and soon sets it down, half-empty. Notice that she's not exactly dragging the Forgettable man to the dance floor — in fact, she's still standing more or less where she was originally. And any inclination she might have had toward actually venturing out there is quashed at the sight of the man — another familiar figure — all but storming off. "Interesting," she intones, one eyebrow lifting slowly.

Facepalm. Or maybe it's veilpalm. Whichever it is, Night Shadow is clearly doing it upon Frost's retreat. A long-suffering sigh is huffed, and then she takes a long, bracing draught of wine before eyeing Mother Winter consideringly. "What a fool." She's quiet a moment, then struggling to suppress a snort of laughter out of nowhere. "Always the same, bronzeriders."

"A bronze-rider," The forgettable man pronounces. "Him I do know. Ran into him very briefly once on one of my first trips here. The only thing I remember about him was that he was a complete…" A pause. "Bronzerider." His gaze flickers over Night Shadow's way and he sighs a little. "How do people manage to walk away from festivities being anything but happy, or at least in the same mood they came in? I do not understand this."

Winter seems to balk at the words that the man speaks to her, her jaw tightening as her back teeth grind together. If the tension wasn't evident to observers before, it certainly was now - especially as she's left on the dance floor and the bronzer rips off his mask to stalk out of there. Her chest heaves a bit when she's left on the floor, her cheeks burning with anger and irritation, perhaps embarrassment too. Her eyes consider the area where Captain Night went, debating a liquored down drink. Alas, talking down a certain grumpy bronzer is on the agenda instead and she follows in the man's wake.

"Yes. He is mercurial, at best." Rose Red shakes her head once, pale eyes drifting to Night Shadow — almost in the same moment in which her Forgettable friend does so. "He is one who believes every canvas must be painted on to be a piece of art. He is not easily satisfied when things are not as he perceives they should be." Shoulders rise and fall. For his last words, however, all she can think to say is, "People are peculiar and I still do not understand them." There. She's said it.

In the wake of the storming off of Frost and Mother Winter, the Harper's music soon begins to wane, and the titters of observers temporarily rise to fill the void that the music had been filling so admirably. Soon enough, they're quick to pick an quick waltz, likely hoping to distract from the scene.

Captain Night watches as Frost rips off his mask and stalks out of the room and is getting to his feet to go to Mother Winter, to make sure she's alright. It's not a nice feeling getting left on the dance floor like that. When he sees her moving to go after Frost he pauses, debating for a moment before walking out after them. Not quite sure still if he should actually follow them, but he can't just stay in the hall.

"Then he must seldom be a satisfied man," Forgettable utters. "To live life in such a state…" He shakes his head vigorously. "I miss my garden now, more than ever." He empties his own flute of juice in a single draw before setting it aside and bringing his other gloved hand up to rest on Rose's shoulder. "Maybe it's better that we don't dance," he mumbles. "Not if this is the consequence."

And what a scene greets May Queen's eyes, emerald shards widening to glittering orbs as the Frost storm whirls out of the dance hall. Being an observer has its advantage this time, for she is mercifully well out of the way and thusly not a target for anybody's fury — least of all a disappointed bronzer.

"Agreed. At least, not here," Rose Red decides. The hand at her shoulder is touched lightly, the young woman tipping her head back to offer a faint smile up at he who is to be known as Forgettable. "Are you satisfied? We could leave, if you wish. Things will unravel quickly enough — better to depart before any further unpleasantness ensues." Pause. "I have some new tea I have been meaning to share with you."

Forgettable grunts once. "Tea, then, and perhaps something other than dancing. Something less destructive like conversation, or a good night's sleep, or attempting to geld a runnerbeast by hand. You know…safer." Then he's padding around to the Rose's front and offering a hand again. "I am satisfied, yes. If you can call it that."

Puck actually gives the frilly shirted one a bit of a pout. "No dancing? After all that work?" Oh yes, there's an audible sigh there. Despite the risk of forgetting his friend, he seems a bit more at ease now. "Oh those two?" blink and a shake of his head. "No not sure they ever made it onto the floor." He can't exactly remember which was the blue one either. The commotion across the hall is noticed though it's only spared a slight glance. Perhaps it's just best to ignore it. But his eyes lose their focus if anyone is paying enough attention and a frown tugs on his face. "Aw shardit wing duties always crop up at stupid times." There's a glance spared between the other two and then apparently a light bulb goes off. "I know, the two of you should dance, after all, you can't go to a dance without dancing." Well, Raven is proving you can but Puck would like to prove that wrong. "I'll catch you later" is said before he turns to gives the woman in white a bright smile. "Thank you for the dance, I had fun." And with that he steals a quick kiss from those pair of lips below a blue and white mask before turning and making a rather quick escape. An unfortunate thing about the new hair cut, it doesn't cover his ears which may tinge just slightly pink or is it the light? And the fact that it might have destroyed his anonymity as well.

Night Shadow's humor fades at something unheard, her expression souring bit by bit. "Oh, young people. Ridiculous." And she'll down the last of her wine and, after a moment or two has passed, will also swish her way out of the cavern in obvious irritation in the way she pulls off her veil.

"So be it." Rose Red takes the offered hand readily enough, with a fleeting smile offered to the man. There's a squeeze to that hand and then the young woman is simply leading the way out of the hall, the strange lady in red and her Forgettable friend soon slipping off into the hallway and tunnels beyond. For tea, talk, and (hopefully) no gelding of runners.

With the masquerade winding down, May Queen finishes off her wine, a touch red in the face as she beats a discreet retreat. She looks neither left nor right, observation done for the evening. Time enough for that another day. For now, the lure of a warm bed and sleep is too potent to resist.

Blue Ice smiles and shrugs lightly, sipping on her drink. "I could go for another dance." She places the glass on the table nearby once she's finished with it this time, rather than loosing it. She frowns lightly when her dance partner says he has to leave for wingduties. "Well, you have a good— " He pauses and blushes brightly when she's caught off guard with that kiss. "— night." She says, watching the retreating Puck. "Who was that?" She asks Raven, since they're friends and should know.

Raven smirks as her friend departs. "That would be R'lin." She states calmly. Yes, she's that evil. The woman pulls her hat off, and then takes her mask off revealing herself as Calria. "Looks like things are about done here, I'm going to bed. Have a good night." And with that she's also stalking off.

While the music continues to play for some time — a change of Harpers was, indeed, in the wings — even that begins to fade into the night along with the dancers. A long night of merriment, indeed — even with the temporary storm that blustered through.


The Dancers …

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