Enter The Creation Ball (All participants begin here)

The octagon shaped ballroom was dressed with somber elegance for the Halloween affair. Instead of the normal white decor, the tables were set with black linen cloth and silver utensils. On each table a blood red candle nestled in a wreath of white fragrant flowers flickering behind its protective glass hurricane globe. The partitions were open to the ball room's full size but deep red velvet drapery hung gathered at each intersection.

The central area of the wooden floor remained open for dancing, with the tables spaced out around the edge with enough room between them to allow for easy movement and somewhat private conversation.

The Orchestra had a section off to one side with a deep red low wall set up to partition their area off from enthusiastic dancers but still allow them to be seen and enjoyed. There was a plethora of extra instruments of a more exotic nature so that traditional pieces of various cultures could be performed during the event.

The outer lobby remains open to people wishing to take a break from the main event or to talk in a more private setting. It surrounds the ballroom on three sides with sets of large double doors leading to the ballroom in which to make a grand entrance or a hasty exit.

/ooc Description of the Convention Center found here: Convention Center.

Alfarinn 18 years ago
Alfarinn smoothed his hands once over the light tan suede leggings and stood to get out of the limo. It had been a long time since he had worn garments of the type he had on. The linen tunic was dyed a pale bluish grey embroidered with gold around the top and on the hemline and cinched with a leather belt. His boots were a soft tan leather and with fur wrapping his calves up to the knee with crisscrossed leather strips holding them on. He had brought out a gold heavy bracelet, the small silver amulet with the bind rune tucked in his tunic and a hunting knife as his only accessories for the event.

Alfarinn had left his hair loose with a two thin braids in the front and neglected to shave for a day or so. It was not a beard to be proud of by any means but somehow to be so clean shaven didn't seem right despite it normally being his preference.

It felt good to be out and doing something for simple enjoyment without an ulterior motive or hidden goal in mind. Lifting his face to the night air, Alfarinn closed his eyes and breathed deeply a whisper of a smile touching his lips. After a moment he turned to Thaddeus and grinned at his well dressed companion, reaching a hand out to him.


"Shall we?"
Ginnie 18 years ago
A stately horse drawn carriage pulled up to the convention center, it look starkly out of place amid the limos and other fancy cars, but Ginnie had seen no other choice. The costume of her era just would not fit in a car, even a big one.

The driver, dressed in a replication of Georgian livery, jumped from the drivers seat and opened the small half door of the open carriage. She touched a hand briefly to the tight up-do her unruly locks had been forced and shellacked into. She was fairly certain the woman that had done it had used an entire can of hairspray. She remembered having to sit for a full hour for the maid to pin her hair up like this, she'd hated it then and she hated it now. It itched, fiercely.

She put her hand into the drivers and took the three small steps from the carriage very carefully, it had been over two hundred years since she had worn this god-awful get up and the shoes alone were enough to see her flat on her face.

It had taken her, the costumer and her assistant nearly an hour to get this on, as Ginnie had, for some reason she could not fathom, insisted on total authenticity. It had taken Ginnie's personal knowledge in getting the order right. It amazed her she even remembered, that you put your shoes on after the stockings and before everything else.

She twitched the skirt into place over the wide panier and three petticoats, after all a lady does not go to a court ball with out at least three petticoats. She had foregone the mantelet and scarf as the dress itself was enough to keep her warm even in the dead of winter.

The robe was a deep ruby red embroidered with small blue and silver flowers over the entire skirt and created an abstract flower pattern on the bodice. The sleeves were of the same fabric ending in a fall of soft white lace. On the top of her head a small scarf like hat rested in front of the knot of her up-do. It could be easily removed with out mussing the hair.

The skirts of her robe rested over a wide panier that was flat in front and back. It made her look like a sort of squashed bell. The back of the robe sported a court train that was pinned up beneath the small tabs of the upper robe, creating a small bustle to accentuate her back side. Not that it mattered since her back side was hidden beneath all that cloth and bamboo.

Her high-heel black shoes made a soft clicking as she made her was to the entrance of the Convention Center. It would be an...interesting evening.
Cyrus 18 years ago
Arriving on horseback would be appropriate. But where would one get the horse and then stable it for the duration of the party. So Cyrus simply had the car bring him to the event. An event which had too many cars already disgorging attendees. There was even a horse drawn carriage, interestingly enough.

Climbing out of the large black vehicle at the end of the line was no hardship. He stalked towards the entrance, letting the driver worry about where to park the H2.

His boots were soft and loose, coming up mid calf, the leather was slightly worn but better quality than he remembered ever wearing in those days. His tunic was a brownish yellow that wrapped around him like a robe all the way to the boots. Its accent band was dark red and embroidered in gold symbols. The pants underneath were also red and tucked into the boots. He wore ceremonial armor of stiffened leather shoulder pads, upper arm and thigh pads. These were very crude by the standards of today but he definitely remembered wearing these when being conscripted by the Khan.

His dome shaped helmet had a fur lining and feathers trailing from the spike at its peak. Of his entire outfit that was the most telling of his past. Few of the era could ever forget the sight of a Mongol helm. The fine silken under-tunic and pants were functional though above his original station. Even if no one saw them, he felt the addition was warranted now. He should have left some weapons at home though. The spear was overkill. A short curved blade rode at his hip, a bow and quiver of arrows was attached to his other hip.

All he needed was a short sturdy horse and a few dozen decapitated heads to complete the nostalgia. Somehow he doubted either would be forthcoming this eve.
Thaddeus Grey 18 years ago
Thaddeus made a few minuscule adjustments to his green coat, embroidered with a delicate leaf pattern in silver thread, before accepting Alfarinn's hand.

"Let's."Â?

Let others say what they would about early 18th century fashions; Thaddeus rather immodestly thought that he pulled the look off well. His coat reached his knees, though one could make out the soft black breaches underneath. White stockings with tiny silver doves embroidered on the ankles were pulled taut over well shaped calf muscles, made more noticeable by the slight heel on his black leather shoes. The waistcoat that showed underneath was a lighter green and embroidered more elaborately, and the fabric had a light sheen.

He had found recently that he had less time to keep his hair at his accustomed shorter length, and for the occasion he had allowed it to grow to its full length at the time he was turned. Tied at the nap of his neck, it hung to tops of his shoulders; wearing a wig might have been fitting as well, but the year he was turned was something of a transition period between styles and thus that particular accoutrement was optional.


"Have I mentioned yet that you look incredible?"Â?

He was, in fact, sure that he had, but felt it was worth mentioning. The light blue suited his companion and the slight stubble was enough to make him want to stay home instead when he brushed his cheek against it.

Wrapping his hand in Alfarinn's, he moved toward the entrance unhurriedly, looking around at the other guests in their various apparel. He was now quite glad he had agreed to go, both for the sake of enjoying a carefree evening and to prove a point.

A point other than the fact that he did occasionally wear color; rather, it was energizing to think that however badly someone out there wanted him dead, he was going to thoroughly enjoy this evening.
Chryseis Angelique 18 years ago
Two massive dogs emerged from the long white limos opened back door. Shortly after Chryseis followed suit. She stood and gazed about, taking in their surroundings. She was dressed in a start white cotton garb that fell to her middle thigh. It cascaded softly over her shoulders in swooping layers. At her waist a simple gold cord to cinch the fabric close to her body. The top and bottom of the short gown was embroidered in gold in a square pattern. The garment was also hemmed in thin gold strands. Her hair hung loose and disheveled curls fell across her brow. On her feet she wore golden sandals that strapped up to her knees. The outfit was not meant for this climate but it didn't bother her much. She took a few steps forward out of the way of the open limo door.

With cation but strength Panos stepped out beside his aunt. His outfit resembled hers but was not as extravagant. A circlet of olive leaves sat on his head and his sandal straps accented his well defined muscled legs. Birseis looked up at him and her tongue lolled out her mouth. She wagged her tail.


I feel ridiculous. Are you sure this is such a good idea?

Panos your being ridiculous, we belong here and this is our heritage that we wear.

Forgive me Aunt Chrys, but we were not royalty. Your husband chose to give that up.

Chryseis scowled at him and began to walk inside.

My late husband was a man of pride. He did not want things given to him.

He sounds stubborn to me.

You are stubborn Panos Mehalitsenos. I am going inside, i suggest you follow, remember, your not very much liked.

Achillies followed at her side as she entered the grand building. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Panos look and follow suit. Birseis naturally following him closely.
Aishe 18 years ago
Well, Aishe thought, looking at the elaborately-dressed people around her, there was certainly something to be said for ancient Egyptian fashion. It sure was simple.

The note had been waiting for her at the front desk of the hotel. It was an invitation to a halloween party, sent by Mai, with the words "Meet me there" written on it.

Aishe wasn't about to argue, although she wasn't stupid either. She supposed that from someone else's standpoint, it might look as though they were all pretending to be vampires from different eras. To her, however, it was something akin to not only opening the lion's mouth and sticking your head in, but bathing in steak sauce beforehand and painting yourself with dotted lines to delineate your tenderest bits.

Well, do it and do it right, she'd figured, and so she'd gone out to the nearest fabric store and found herself a few workable supplies. A length of sheer linen and a length of deep blue silk made up her gown, which was worn almost toga-style with a knot at one hip. The deep blue was underneath, the sheer white linen on top.

She'd lined her eyes with kohl, making sure to extend the outer lines properly. Her hair... well, she didn't relish the idea of going as the ancient Egyptian women would have., with a wig and a cone of scented fat that would gradually melt to smell nice. Blech. She simply brushed her long hair until it shone, putting several small decorative braids in it.

Her small feet were strapped into sandals, purchased that evening at a shoestore. Her wrists and ankles made musical noises, thanks to the bangles she'd picked up while out.

The only adornment she wore that might bring attention to her costume was a replica collar-plate of her own. It was a scarab made of lapis-lazuli, set in rich gold. The scarab sat comfortably at the hollow of her throat. Two large wings stretched out from either side, running along all the way to the points of her collarbones where they ended at her shoulders. The wings were made of turquiose and gold, and the collar-plate hung from her neck by a golden chain. It was one of the few items of jewelry she owned but rarely wore, being far too lavish for her usual tastes. But she adored it anyway, and had been delighted to put it on.

So here she was, with her head already feeling the heat of the lion's breath, poised to step into its mouth as well. She reached into the small white handbag she'd brought along and tipped the cab driver. Taking a deep breath, she followed everyone else and headed in...





((ooc: note courtesy of Mai))
Waiter 18 years ago
Karl the waiter stood in front of the catering staff, all gathered for the main event. They looked impressive this evening, an army of staffers dressed in black tuxedos with red ties. Several held small round trays in their hand. Running his hand over his perfectly trimmed goatee, he clapped his hands sharply before speaking in a loud voice.

"Okay people! The word of the day is...?"Â?

He smiled proudly as the word SERVICE echoed through the kitchen from each and every staffer. Pleased, he continued.

"That's what I like to hear! Now you servers, I want to see you -rotating-! -Circulate- people, circulate! Let's go team!"Â?

With that, the servers were off, some with their trays and some to establish themselves at the buffet table and bar.

There was a collective deep breath, and the guests began to enter the ballroom.

The staff was ready to serve.


/ooc feel free to move the service staff around as you need to in order to enjoy appetizers and drinks. You'll be hearing more from Karl at dinner time. Send a PM to The Voice if you'd like Karl to RP something specific and want one of us to write him . Also, if Karl speaks in this thread, you have permission to hear him in any private thread you start if need be.
Alec Devereaux 18 years ago
Tossing his keys to the valet, Alec pulled himself from the car. Shaking his shoulders to ensure the flow-fiber long coat was not bunching and would flutter pleasantly, he ran his fingers through his medium length hair. Glancing down, the crisscrossing buckles on his leather tank and pants were clearly visible through the amazingly light fiber which was already fluttering about even in the very light breeze. The glints of the silver buckles were a nice touch through the dark fabric - almost as if the stars had come to play along his body. "Who says that modern industrial doesn't have style?"

Glancing up, Alec gulped a bit. A horse-drawn carriage, multiple folk in 18th century regalia...a rider for the Horde...ancient Greeks and an Egyptian..."Am I the only person here who has lived less than a full human span of years? Ooo, nice ball gown...looks uncomfortable, though."

He continued to take in the sights as he walked lightly up the steps, the fabric of his coat rippling out behind him at the slightest movement....parting to reveal the crisscross of leather, buckles and plating. Pausing a moment to allow his clothing to catch up to him, he showed his invitation to the doorman (who clearly seemed to think that his costume was a bit out of place) before entering the sea of undead before him.

"Well, I sure look the fresh meat in this crowd. Look at all of those ancients. They've seen things I haven't even READ about. Well, here we go."

Alighting down the steps, coat billowing, Alec entered the crowd, fairly confident that he'd be among the youngest here.

Shay 18 years ago
The valet opened Shay's door, and gave her a hand out, before going around to take the keys from Mathias, and take the car to park.

Shay stepped up onto the walkway, and smiled at the people walking past her. She was extremely impressed by the detail of the costumes she saw, as well as the variety. Mathias had said these were all supposed to be vampires, and yet no one seemed to be dressed in the stereotypical garb...black cape...black suit or dress. No one had the black slicked back hair, or blood red lips and fangs...

However the 'Bela Lugosi' vampires were passe. Since Anne Rice had made vampires sexy, it no longer seemed strange to think of them in all manners of dress. Shay herself had worn a dress circa the sixteen hundreds, and while it was a fluke that she had the costume, she was aware of a couple vampires who would have worn the same dress. 'The Bride of Corinth'...a poem Shay had read several months back...and Atta Olivia Clemmons would have fit right into this dress. It was a lucky coincidence that Shay was writing a book about vampires herself, and thus had been researching them.

Shay smiled when she looked at Mathias. He certainly wasn't her idea of a vampire. And though his dress was quite odd for their present time, he carried it off so well that after several moments Shay didn't even see the clothes. All she could see was Mathias.

She held her hand back to him as he approached, and batted her eyes, seductively.


"Let's go knock em dead!"

She leaned in towards his ear to speak, and discreetly tugged on his earlobe with her teeth.
Mathias 18 years ago
As Mathias stepped from the vehicle he couldn't help but be filled with a since of ennui? Maybe it was the ancient garb he saw tonight. Though Nachton was no Constantinople he dressed and moved as if he and Shay were attending court there.

His tunica was a Royal Blue,surprisingly matching his companion's dress. Silver thread traced patterns into the hem and cuffs. The tunica extended to just above his knee,covering his green woolen trousers. Light brown leathers boots capped the ensemble and a broadsword hung on his hip. He was unsure at first of the wisdom in wearing the sword,but he saw a Viking(?) with a spear and so pushed that concern aside.

Taking Shay's hand,he extending a bow that would have made Theodora herself blush and gently kissed her hand.


"Once again, I am the luckiest man here. For if none covets my position,then surely they are blind!"

Taking Shay's hand in his, Mathias entered the ballroom.
Meegan 18 years ago
Meegan felt uncomfortable in her her attire for once in a very very long time. She didn't exactly like the fashions of the era she had chosen, but renaissance, and other Gothic eras were out since she wore that sort of thing often. There was no way she was getting into a hoop skirt, so anything from the eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries was out. She had thought about going as a civil war belle, but that went back to the pesky hoop skirt thing. She knew she didn't have a boyish enough figure for the twenties, so she sort of settled on the thirties. Not that her dress wasn't lovely and well made, but it was decidedly not "her."

She let Jeeves help her from the long black car, she took several steps away so that her companions could alight as well. She smoothed a hand down the midnight blue fur accent of her over coat. The coat was an exact match to the dress, tights and shoes she was wearing. Beneath the coat an ankle length gown fit snugly against her body in a midnight blue silk velvet, woven with a silvery thread so that the light would catch it as she moved. The back swooped to and gathered at just above the small of her back. The neck line mimicked the swoop to just above her breasts, and carried around to the back, so that it made a long smooth oval about her upper body. Her matching shoes sported a two inch heel, a buckle clasp over the top of her foot and a small poof of down feathers on the top of the toe, all in the exact shade as her gown.

Finger waves were set into the parts of her hair just above her ears and the rest of her strawberry tresses were pulled into a chignon at the nape of her neck. Glittering combs held the knot in place and a single blue feather, drooped from the knot. All in all it really was a lovely effect, but Meegan was having a bit of trouble convincing herself of that.

She turned to Aron and smiled. He looked incredible. She slid her arm into his, as they waited for Rachyl to extract her self from the limo. Rachyl, too looked stunning.
Rachyl 18 years ago
Rachyl stepped from the car, gloved hand delicately held by Jeeves as she got her balance on her black-and-white patent leather shoes. Reaching back into the car, she picked up the wide-brimmed white hat from the seat and settled it neatly on top of the bun on her head.

A black ribbon gave the hat a bit of accent. Stepping next to Meegan on the sidewalk, she straightened her skirt. Petulantly, she claimed one last time,
"I still think I would have looked good in that psychedelic jumpsuit. But I'm liking this more and more."

"This" of course referred to her costume. The hat, wide, white and round, rested on her "down in back, smooth brow" coif. Rachyl was briefly glad as the hat settled that she had allowed her hair to become more curly, or it might not have survived the horrible twisting needed to put it up in the older style. Her torso was covered by a pure white jacket with varied stylized shapes - flowers, stars, clovers, all patterned with a check-hash - that somehow made her shoulders look perfectly square. Tied neatly at the neck, the jacket hung down just below her waist, covering the top of a pure white pencil skirt with a matching hatch-pattern in a zigzag around the hem. Her suede, wide-topped gloves were also white, with black trim and a checked-star on each. Her shoes, white-bodied and laced but black-topped, were a bit taller than she was used to wearing on a regular basis, but were surprisingly comfortable.

She rubbed her knees together - she hadn't worn stockings in so long - and reached for her purse as it was handed to her. Also white leather, with a checked-star on one side, and a checked-heart on the other, it was tucked under her arm as she offered her free elbow to Meegan.
"Who'da thunk I'd look so good in forties fashion?"

Giggling, she nudged Meegan. "Obviously, you did."
Nova 18 years ago
Nova bit the inside of her cheek for the fiftieth time on the drive to the convention center, though the smirk just would not leave her face. It went well with the outfit, though.

God she had loved grunge.

A Nirvana tee shirt with the words "I hate myself and I want to die"Â? on the back was covered by a blue flannel shirt. Underneath, a long john style shirt with the appropriate amount of holes completed the 'I'm a total scrub and I don't care' look she was going for. Torn baggy jeans and doc martins finished the outfit off. Her hair was left down and chopped into a chunky unwashed mess atop her head, with colorful thread wrapping around one lock near the front.

Okay, so she hadn't really changed her look that much. She'd only been turned a little over 10 years ago, though. One couldn't expect much, but she felt she looked distinctively "early 90s"Â? at least.

Jan, whom she had agreed to give a lift...now his look was something else altogether.

Even so, she managed to get the car parked and make it to the ballroom without laughing outright once, though this might have been because she wouldn't risk looking at him.
Mai 18 years ago
Mai wore a red silk outer garment with gold flowers embroidered on the hem and sleeves that to many westerners would look much like the kimono she always wore but the lines were different. This outfit still had the long flowing bell sleeves and a similar shape. Because it was a festival the white under garment that she wore was longer, showing out from under the red and trailed behind her in a slight train. It was belted with a gold belt high on her chest that had three long lengths of detailed fabric tails of gold embroidered with red flowers the center tail wider than the outer two. She suffered one of the servants to pull up her hair, it was partially pulled back with two small buns decorated with white flowers and red ribbons just behind and above her ears with the remainder left long to hang down to her waist; a few braids came from the buns with red ribbons adorning them and a matching red silk blindfold covered her eyes.

Her face was powdered pale and her eyebrows painted carefully, the lipstick and rouge was deep shade of red. Twitching her nose once at the unusual smell of the make up on her face Mai stepped out of the carriage that the Manor had provided for her knowing she would refuse to set foot in the automobiles and would be prepared to walk even in such an outfit. Rupert, the butler, seemed ever mindful of her though and came up with a mode of transportation she could accept.

It was somewhat strange to be without an obvious weapon but the Elder of the Hunt was ever mindful of her station and duties and had two tiny daggers hidden away. Each one was strapped to an upper arm and all it would take to pull them out was reaching up the volumnous sleeves. She felt that they were quite probably more than were necessary but it was the foolish vampire who's life was cut short.

Slippered feet walked silently into the ballroom only making a stop at the entrance when a mortal dared to lay a hand on her. She tilted her head up at him with an air of cool scorn and the hand was quickly removed. He asked hastily for her invitation and quick to say that if she had forgotten it...not that he was implying that she had.. but she could.. well if she wanted to...he was certain...what he meant was that it was obvious that she belonged here. Mai smiled faintly at the nervous man and reached into her sleeve, handing him the black invitation.

Once inside she looked around with Eastern disdain noting the differing costumes, many of which were far from practical, before sensing Alfarinn. His baritone voice was picked out easily and once she began to listen she could hear the slightly higher clear voice of his companion; a familiar sound that brought a full smile to her face. Her Ba-di was here then, good.

Now it remained to find the other one she needed to see tonight.
Apollyon 18 years ago
A man clad in shining armor made his way in. He was wearing his notorious armor from his days of commanding Roman soldiers. He modified his armor through the ages as he saw fit. He was encased in a shining iron breastplate that bore his family's crest, except on this one, the horse was cast in gold, with the horse's mane set in shimmering diamond. The name "Sarimir" was set in ruby and contrasted with the Diamond around it.Below the neck of the horse, and near the bottom of the chest plate was inscribed:

"Behold, Whom your eyes are fixed upon is the Guardian of the Gates of Hell and the destroyer of all, Apollyon."

The inscription clearly was added centuries later, and the Remarkable crest had been well maintained through the past millennium and a half. The man Wore a modified roman officer's helm, except the crest at the top of his was nearly a half foot higher, with a pair of horns that sprung a foot into the air.He wore only golden wristbands on his arms and wore steel shin guards. His feet were shod in blood red leather boots, that showed many years of use in the battlefield.

As he walked in he heard the driving beat of Ravel's "Bolero".He smiled at the memory it brought back, having gone to France to see it's initial performance. He Seen many eyes fixed upon him as he entered, in his armor he almost felt like The God of War himself.he raised his chin proudly and made his way to the bar, grabbing a glass of red wine on his way there off of one of the trays.
Waiter 18 years ago
Karl surveyed the party, which now appeared to be in full swing. A glorious sight indeed; the staff was in top form tonight. A little pep talk really could do wonders.

Appetizers and drinks were circulating, but at his subtle nods the waiters were beginning to head for the kitchens and return with larger serving carts on wheels. Like a well oiled machine, they were.

His big moment of the evening was nearly there, and as the last waiter moved into place and the orchestra, which had been borrowed that evening by the Opera House, quieted in transition from one song to another, he knew it was time.


"Dinner...is served!"Â?

With that, the covers on the trays lifted in unison, revealing the first course of soups and salads, and the staff went about serving the guests as they took their seats.
Claire 18 years ago
Claire walked up to the entrance of the ballroom with her young Evenhet companion. They were both dressed in garments from her time period as an exchange for Dani's help with Claire's House of Pain fashion.

Her kirtle, or under garment was of a crisp white and the gunna, or over garment was a pale ice blue that reminded her of the sky over the ocean on a pale cold dawn at home. The hemline and cinch were gold with evenly spaced sapphire gems. Claire's slippers were a matching blue and the mantle was a deep blue with a tiny gold print. She had bound her hair in a simple braid and had several gold metal cuffs spaced down it as decoration; the top portion was covered with a white light weight cloth and held in place by a thing gold circlet.


"I hope this isn't too uncomfortable. It didn't get really bad for women until later I think, when they tried to have small waists, tiny feet, red cheeks and pale skin."

Danielle did look lovely though and Claire found herself glad for the company and hoped the large amount of her own kind here didn't make the woman nervous. Dealing with a few Evenhet might be a lot different than a sea of every kind of vampire imaginable.

"You look wonderful. We best be careful or you're likely to get a few vampires wanting to take you home."

/ooc with Dani with permission
Jan 18 years ago
Jan sat unusually quiet in the car though he was sure Nova knew him to be moody anyway. He still couldn't imagine what brought him to go to this event. Maybe the idea of party crashing all those Anantya running around in their fancy clothes or maybe because his sister would call him a chicken if he didn't.

Still he hated the clothing from the time he was born. Fashion had just gotten better and better over the years if you asked him...well except for the leisure suit idea and the colour choices of the 80's. ( It was nice of potential victims to wear glow in the dark jewelry so that they were more easily spotted though.) He snorted to himself and looked up. Oh... they were here.

Jan sighed and got out of the firebird and joined his sister who seemed resolutely trying -not- to look his way. It was that bad; he agreed. Smoothing the black tights with the built in pointed shoes, he grit his teeth and resolutely straightened the harvest gold outer tunic trimmed in ermine along with the black under tunic which had sleeves that were tight at the top but flared towards the bottom; both tunics stopped mid thigh and were cinched with a black fabric belt. The jewelry along the neckline was a chain of gold square shaped medallions with alternating amber and jet gems set in them. The soft cap on his head was black velvet with several white plumes.


"Laugh if you want." He muttered to Nova as they turned in their invitations. "But you have to admit I've got great legs."
Amberelle DeEspionne 18 years ago
Pulling the shiny blue Aston up the the valet, Amberelle opened the door and slipped on her shimmery black satin and rhinestone Manolo Blahnik sandals. She sighed a little, realizing there was yet another evening of sore feet ahead. Maybe she really should have just worn some of the typical grungy clothes so popular back in 1994. With a little shudder she shook her head no, she couldn't imagine coming to a ball dressed so casually. Even if Nirvana defined the era, there was no reason to make a poor impression on the kindred of her new home!

Grabbing up her puff of a black handbag, she slipped the slim strap over her wrist. Thankfully her opera length black gloves kept the fluffy black ostrich feathers that decorated the bag from tickling her wrist. Taking the thoughtful valet's hand, she stood and smoothed the black silk dress a little nervously. Careful of the billowy skirt's slight train, she made her way in front of the car and paused to surreptitiously glance down at her bosom. 'The bad thing about strapless dresses.. they slide down.' Offering up a silent thanks and a prayer that it continued to stay in place, she put that worry out of her mind.

'Can't be wrong with a classic black dress,' she'd decided. A glance at her reflection in the car's windows as it slide away from the curb assured her that it looked smashing. Making sure also that her long blonde tresses were firmly in place, tucked into a controlled cascade of upswept curls. A few tiny rhinestone pins were tucked in here and there for sparkle matched her shoes, stud earrings and the glittering watch she wore.

Grasping her mardi gras mask's stick firmly in hand, she made her way to the door, handed the invitation over for admittance with a smile and stepped into the party.

'Just in time for dinner.. guess that means I'm not late at least!'



Watch or go to Rolex.com and look at Cellini collection : Orchid, in white gold band
Handbag
Cat Mask (Austrian crystals and black glitter with silver metallic accents on an ebony wood stick)
Shoes
Hairstyle
Aron Swiftwood 18 years ago
Aron studied the people around him. Some he had only heard about, a few he actually knew himself. It would be a fun game, figuring which people had fangs and which hadn't. His 'costume' was one he hadn't worn in decades. The green coat suited his eyes, or at least he remembered it suiting his eyes, and the gold embroidery was a fair contrast to his hair. He had decided that the wig he had once worn with it would be better off staying in the closet.
He wondered how well it suited Meegans rater lovely dress. 18th century and 30's. A curious combination. Though, when he thought about it, it was hardly more curious than the fact they were together in the first place. Besides, it was fun to see her in something different for a change. Not that it mattered, her eyes stole his attention no matter what she wore. Well...almost no matter.