The full seasonal event can be read here! Below are the main seasonal items for quick reference:
1. A thread reacting to the season's weather in some ways.
2. A thread in the part of the city your character doesn't live in!
3. A thread relating to your vocation.
Of The Season
Quote
"Tell Dr. Nate that Gale sent you, and he still owes me for the mushrooms. Except that it takes you a while to reach the clinic, and by the time you do your fever is spiking, and so instead of the requisite message you instead tell the poor soul who greets you that 'A gale'a m'shrooms sent me cus'a my hands.'" - Zephyr in Oh help me, please doctor, I'm damaged
The Checkpoints have lifted, the gates and doors open for one and all within the Core. Lights trail from building to building, a mimicry of starlights that might dance above as soon as the night sets in. For now, the streets are devoid of vehicles, each one blocked off with food stalls and marketplaces. Off to the left, a whole street of games is set up, each one bearing a different strength (or perhaps chance!) And in the mix of it all, a few Polaroid booths are set up, for any who wish to take a keepsake back home with them.
There are places to borrow masks and costumes as well if you cannot afford your own. The goal is to have fun, talk with those you might otherwise never speak to, and learn a little about your neighbors.
The day itself is a beautiful Tanul day as the sun peeks down from above, colorful umbrellas cover the streets and buildings to blot out the sun for those more prone to burning. The call of vendors and excitement drown out the surrounding city noise, little soothing beats of music become the heartbeat of the occasion, sure to grow louder in the closed off Square.
It’s here that the party will truly begin.
Welcome to the masquerade! This event will run for roughly two weeks OOC, though it will be only a single night IC. Bring a costume and mask (or borrow one!) play some games, eat some food, and enjoy the company of strangers! Curfew for today is lifted and everyone is encouraged to join in!
Please be aware there is a scuffle planned once the masquerade ends, so we ask that you refrain from making new threads set after the party, though pre masquerade threads are fine. Masquerade threads may also continue past this point freely. Participation is not required for the scuffle, but if you do not it will be assumed your character left the area prior to. IC Tsili’s announcement would have come approximately a week before the masquerade.
GAMES AND EVENTS
Each one of these events is dedicated to helping get some of the threads for your character's vocations started. If you participate in one of the games dedicated to one of the stats for your vocation, you can use it to purchase that stat for your leveling! (And yes, you can participate in more than one, but only one will count for leveling purposes!)
kill your demons, kill 'em dead; in your mirror, in your bed in your heart, in your head. don't you look good in red?
As soon as the announcement is made, Sunjata’s got an outfit plan in the works. It’s the one time he doesn’t have to abide by the Bratena colors and attire, which means that in the spirit of things the young Bratena sheds the typically neutral grey hues and completely goes bold. It’s an outfit his father truly hates, and despite the fact Sunjata’s assured the Arbiter he won’t wear it…
He does. And he thrives in it.
These days Tanul brings warmth, enough that he thinks he can get away with the cut of the shirt he wears of his costume. And as Sunjata arrives, the enforcer is dressed in a vibrant, dazzling gold. His mask an asymmetrical design, the left half of the mask by his eyes rises up along his temple in the form of a small sun, while the right side dips below, under his cheekbone in a smooth swipe of sun rays. His shirt, a close cut yet soft hue of cream and accented with the very same gold as his mask, fit right up to his shoulders. Sleeveless, broken up only by the swooping collar, revealing collarbones, and the little gold cuffs around his wrists that are mostly hidden by the fur lined cloak he wears over it all, tied across his chest with another sun-symbolled brooch.
The rest of him, his pants and boots are a dark golden brown, fitted nicely and grants him an inch more to his height; all of it designed to keep the focus on his masked face and chest, devoid of blemishes this time.
There is a thought that perhaps he’s done too much as he makes his way to one of the little carnival market stalls, picking up a little engraved piece of metal to inspect.
For the festival, he had borrowed a simple, multicoloured mask that sat over his eyes. A dark purple longcoat in thin wool, also borrowed, hanged over his shoulders. The clothes that were his own were a pair of comfortable fitting black jeans and a white buttoned shirt.
For the moment, he stood leaned against the wall outside one of the shops. He had gotten hold of a small paper bag of crunchy puffed snacks in different shapes and flavours. What they really were, Cian did not know, but all he cared for was that they were edible and tasty. While chewing on said snacks, he just took the time to take in everything around. All the sights, sounds and smells. He had already taken some time window shopping, and had now switched to people watching. Silently admiring all the masks and costumes of the people walking by. His own could not really be called a costume even, but at least he fit in somewhat with the mask.
When the announcement had come, he had at first not been sure if he should attend. He may have come terms that he was stuck in the city for now, but he still carried lingering anxiety over it. Eventually, he had decided that perhaps going to this festival was what he needed. If not to cure the anxiety, at least keep it away for a day. So far, it was working fairly well. His mind was so filled with all the impressions that any thought about the current lockdown was pushed far back somewhere.
The reader of this text has standing permission for responsible powerplay and to use physical/magical force against this character. Instant killing and permanently maiming not included.
Adam insisted to himself that the visit to this event was, for him, strictly information gathering and nothing else. It wasn’t like he even liked the core or the people there, Plates-bastards and suck ups; he certainly didn’t like the tall buildings or the better food. Even as he entered the event and saw the lavish costumes, the beautiful decorations, he certainly did not enjoy himself.
He had, however, dressed for the occasion. Customary black leather pants and boots, but then he had found a sheer, drapey frantic to go over his shoulders and a matching shiny mask. Would it be painfully obvious to anyone that knew him who he was? Yes. Did he look hot though? Absolutely.
For now, he planted himself by a corner out of the way, drink in hand (he wished he could smoke here, but he knew how that’d look) and ears pricked for anything interesting.
Ever since the announcement, Lilliane has been eagerly awaiting the day of the festival. A moment to forget the current situation and have fun is just the thing she needs.
For the festival, she wears a butterfly-themed outfit. A dark blue dress adorned with stylized butterflies in bright colors, fitted around the top and flowing more loosely below the waist. Her mask follows a similar pattern, with several small butterflies at the edges, while her shoes each have a bigger butterfly on top of them.
For now, she heads to the stalls. After getting a snack from one of the vendors, she starts looking for a keepsake or two.
Siegfried was very much looking forward to this event. Finally the opportunity to meet new people. He hopes that his little pain in the ass (also known as brother) will also meet new people here. He didn't go out for too long after the last attacks. But he was an immigrant and did not know how well he would be received. So he kept his feet still.
But now was the time to go to a fucking PARTY! He had built himself a mask in the shape of an elephant, simple but functional, like the rest of his outfit. At least in his opinion. More like a colorful bird for everyone else. There was no piece of fabric that did not change into another color. To stand out was the goal. Maybe he could find some Customers. The future will show what this town has to offer him.
(This post was last modified: 11-20-2022, 05:00 PM by Siegfried.)
A masquerade? He's not sure that's his cup of tea—an all-out city party with the crème de la crème of Kotoll. He's more of a 'take a walk with his cheetah in the nice weather with no one around to bother him' kind of guy, but.. he'd made the mistake of mentioning it to his parents, and as much as he wanted to scream at them it felt like if he didn't go, they'd disown him or something. He'd be even deeper in the shit then, and besides, they'd had like, one good point: maybe it'd do him good. Break him out of the listlessness.
But Morrocaw comes with, or he's not going. And she's not going to be thrilled, of course. And he's not sure what the policy on pet cheetahs is, but he's adopting the same stance he's used everywhere else: if they're not explicitly forbidden they're allowed. And considering the amount of people in Kotoll city owning a cheetah is like one... It works pretty well.
He's not much into the gaudy fashion, and in fact, it's questionable if he'd consider himself dressed up at all, aside from the beautiful but traditional mask on his face. It is a pale blue and silvery thing, studded with fake gems and adorned with white feathers. He's dressed in pale clothes, and to make a completely non-Kotoll reference he looks somewhat like an elven scholar. It's just kind of his vibe.
Morrocaw, in an attempt to increase her chances of not being turned away, is also wearing a mask. It's black, securely tied around her head, and she's stopped trying to paw it off. He also gave her a small black cape for added measure, but honestly—he could probably have gotten her in regardless.
No one gave a fuck as he strolled through into the festival area with his four-footed friend.
Mallorie hadn’t been to many events like this, outside of working security or generally keeping an eye on things. The idea of a night dedicated to frivolity for frivolity’s sake had never really been her thing, so of course she found herself persuaded to walk among the crowds and stalls, dressed hideously impractically in a borrowed mask - touted as silver, but most likely some cheaper tin, judging by the weight and feel. No pattern or frills, it did its job of covering...some of her face. Enough that she felt a little less self-conscious about the whole situation.
Otherwise she wore the nicest clothes she owned, plain black and almost military in their pressing, and did her best to seem like she wasn’t overwhelmed by the effect of standing for once, in the middle of this as a participant rather than an observer.
She had been informed - as reliably as the source could be - that this would be a good place to get out of her comfort zone, and learn more about the populace she found herself part of. So she did her best to walk among the throng and peer periodically at the sights lining the streets, rather than lurking at the edges as her instincts generally bade her to do. It was enlightening, in its own way. Maybe not as educational as she had been promised, but a new experience was a new experience, and every little bit of new information was tucked away for future reference.
Eventually her interest fell to the people passing by and she took a moment to rest by a stand selling something fried and greasy to passersby. Her eyes fixed on the other attendees, and she let the smell and heat of the street food stall wash over her like a fog.
Everybody wants to be famous Nobody wants to be nameless, aimless
These are the kinds of things Kala is made for.
Tonight, there is no hint of Drencher in her costume, no air of downtrodden, muck and mired humanity. There is only the proud, smug lift of her chin and the noble curve of her nose, the rest of her hidden behind a heavily feathered and painted mask (hand made, of course), making her look like some kind of blood-tipped, ghostly egret.
She picks her way delicately through the crowd, surveying the offerings before making any choices. Tonight ought to be worth it. All of this should catch her something fun, shouldn’t it? A beaded and woven choker covers half her neck before dipping down to swing low over barely-there breasts. Oh, don’t worry, everything is fully covered, but the thigh-high boots (Gods, she traded so much for these), add a little danger, and more than a little suggestion about the kind of person that might be under the mask.
Something in the stalls catches her eye, however, and she heads that way, disappearing as much as one can when dressed like that.
Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of heart
Not everybody is here to party. For an ambitious young rising star in the Guard, volunteering to work Tinta's Awakening is an excellent way to earn brownie points.
Keeps her from having to put on airs as the future Mrs. Bratena, too.
The Guard is in dress uniform tonight, and Savera is no exception. Black leather boots rise over light fawn pants, which themselves give way to a double-breasted cream coat with polished mother-of-pearl buttons. Her forearms bear bracers of deep black leather, marked be etchings of dragon fire. Red epaulettes and stripes on her slacks denote her as belonging to Bravlet house; a star on her collar shows her Captain rank. Above her collar, a simple white mask covers the top of her face, leaving only lips and sharp chin visible as it dips over her cheeks. Her long hair is tucked under a bowler hat, a rather ridiculous final piece to the outfit - but all military outfits need something a little silly, she supposes.
She watches the comings and goings in a silence which is broken whenever she needs to break up a fight, or redirect a rowdy customer, or give some poor lost sod directions. Some of the faces are familiar; many are not; but as the evening wears on Savera attempts to watch and listen, a sense of uneasiness under her skin.
Grass is green and it’s always sunny Hands so bloody, tastes like honey
