[Song Event] Masque and Music

[Misso Pan]

A charming little party held by prestigious figures for all to attend, eager to show off their wealth and power to all who would listen! Their intentions, though shallow, were unassuming and un-terrible – or so it seemed.

Though at first glance the party seemed to be rather normal and uneventful, a dark evil was lurking in the background, waiting to emerge. There, in the shadows! A figure, conniving and clever, slipping a red liquid into the red of the punch that sat vulnerable at the buffet table.

He chuckled and corked the bottle, then slipped back into the darkness, never to be seen again for the remainder of the party, his actions and intentions entirely unknown.

Perhaps it would not be a good idea to continue drinking the punch after that…. But accidents happen.

Hidden behind masks and costumes, the lawless of London are free to permeate the party as they please, their faceless images ne’er once alerting the authority looming over the guests. With a dash of lipstick, ferocious femme fatales seek prey for the night, while the unwary ultranormals with little suspicion garnered, continue about their conversations with smiles on their faces.

All unaware of the insanity that awaited the first slip up.

As expected, one took a drink of the tainted liquid. Later, follow this, another fell victim. Save the odd feeling welling up from within, few would suspect foul play, and perhaps only when the full effects were felt would anything truly be noticed.

One thing was certain, however: those that stood away from the punch, those that refused to allow even a drop to touch their lips, would remain unharmed by the chaos that would inevitably ensue. God forbid anyone remember this night.

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[atrb=valign,top] OH NO I'M TRAPPED HERE Ada didn’t know how she ended here without any clue about what to do in this place. One of her upperclassman had received an invitation to a party and she picked Ada to accompany her - saying the Indonesian needs social life outside the campus ground. It’s rude to refuse an upperclassman’s request, so she had no choice but nodded politely - her words were true after all, Ada does need to socialize with real people instead with dead physicists no matter how awesome they were. Said senior made her walk through makeovers and borrowed dress and heels; Ada almost didn’t recognize her own reflection in the mirror once she was done dressing. But once she arrived, her mind kept coming back to her unfinished homework in the dorm and Ada only hoped she still had time to finish it before Professor Soo’s class started tomorrow. Then, when she was looked around the party place, she discovered that her senior already disappeared from her side... leaving her alone in this foreign place. Ada tried to call her, but her phone couldn’t reach her senior. Great. Feeling her mood turning low, Ada walked as fast as her heels allowed to the buffet. For her, the only good thing in this party was the all-you-can-eat foods and beverages. Her mouth instantly watered upon the sight of cakes and puddings. She didn’t even think to grab a plate and start to fill it with those sweet heavenly snacks. Food really was the best part of the party after all, but sadly she couldn’t take much lest her dress became tighter and prevented her from breathing normally. She decided to reserve some space in her stomach for beverages. In another table, there was a red-colored punch. It triggered her thirst, so she moved towards it and quickly filled a cup full of the red liquid, then drank it all at once. Its fruity taste lingered in her tongue. Tasty. She poured another cup and carried it with her. Feeling better, Ada tried to search her senior again. Her heels really didn’t help her; she still felt much shorter than those Englishmen and women. People keep bumping into her and a woman even made her drink fell from her grasp, its bright red content spilled on the carpeted floor. Ada’s head moved upwards, her mouth quickly muttered her apology. “Watch where were you going! Didn’t your parents taught you to see with your eyes instead of your knees?” Ada heard the woman gasped and had an exasperated look in her eyes. How rude! That woman was the one that made her drink spilled and the Indonesian even apologized. Ada snorted and left the impolite woman to the buffet. She wanted a drink to console her sour mood.

made by retrogress of back to neverland

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Aoife O'Neill was not looking forward to this party. Especially as she had to go around in this God awful dress! ...Long story short - Aoife had sorted out a lovely suit for this evening but it had gone missing after Cerys and Donald had visited her apartment, and was replaced with a dress. In other words, the bane of Aoife's life. And she was stuck wearing it. This party was going to be a complete nightmare.

Upon arrival, she had already stumbled a few times in it. God this was embarrassing. Aoife was not exactly very feminine when in a skirt - she actually became more clumsy than anything. Oh look, now people were staring. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. The redhead had only just entered and already she was wishing the night would be over. Never again would she let her siblings enter her home. Ever!

What the Irish woman needed right now was a drink. Something to calm herself down a little bit. The moment she laid eyes on the punch, Aoife was already at the table and pouring herself a drink.

One glass.

Two glasses.

Three glasses later and Aoife was starting to feel a little.... strange... Very strange, in fact.

The redhead frowned slightly and moved away from the table of punch and into the crowd of people. "Next time, just stick to water," she told herself. Now her plan was to just try and find someone she recognised in the crowd and waste the rest of the night with them.

As she went through the crowds, Aoife passed a large wall of glass. Like a giant mirror.

She paused and stared at reflection for a while, taking in all the details. Her mind was slowly beginning to process something.

............

Was she really that pretty?!

Aoife gawked at her reflection; she actually looked really nice in that green dress, with her hair all done up nicely. She hadn’t even realised before!

A small giggle escaped from her lips and she smiled, before spinning on her heels and waltzing out back into the party.

She felt pretty! All of the ladies tonight should be jealous of her~

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Lukas glanced around the party. He didn't even know why he bothered to show up in the first place. Oh, right, it was supposed to be a great way to meet people and, in theory, have fun. He should have just stayed home...

'Ah, well, it can be worse... For example, a car could drive right into the building at any given moment. That would be a rather unfortunate event to happen. Exciting, but unfortunate. I suppose that this is tolerable enough. Sure, I don't even want to be here, but I should make the best of this evening... Well, at a later point when it seems like the best choice. Everyone seems to be dancing rather than mingling, and no way would I join in on that. Why would I dance? I don't even want to. Besides, I would be perfectly content by just standing by the refreshment table...'[/i] he thought. In fact, that was exactly what he was doing. He watched the crowd go about their business, not really wanting to get caught up in it all. He was perfectly fine with staying by that table, drink in hand.

He took a sip of his punch. It was his second cup so far, though as time passed it began to taste a bit...odd. Not only that, but he began to get a strange feeling as well. He hesitantly put his cup down, figuring that it was best to quit drinking the punch.

He continued to watch the people around him, dancing with one another. Then it hit him, a slightly shocked expression on his face.

He was a far better dancer than them. They were lowly peasants compared to him, they would never get on his level. He turned his attention away from the crowd. They were an eyesore. Just looking at them was down right depressing, even more so to someone of his rank. He was higher than all of them, even the Queen herself! If all else, he was a queen when it came to dancing.

He just softly smirked, he would show them soon enough. Then they would be down on their knees, fascinated by his talent. They would accept the fact how lowly they were in comparison to him.

He just couldn't wait to show them, to see the looks of shock on their faces. Ah, but all in due time... Oh, he would give them a show worth remembering.

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Ugh.

There were few things in life Peter hated more than Arthur’s stupid, boring parties. Arthur himself didn’t even like attending them! Why did he bother? Ohhhh, he has to look good for the public! It’s all about the image! ’I don’t like it but I have to, Peter! Be a good boy and I’ll buy you that… that game you wanted.’ Yeah, yeah. Same line every time, but God, Peter had to sit through hours of cranky, crinkly old farts parading around a room all night, talking about things that didn’t matter in the slightest.

But he had to look nice. He hated that.

The tiny black suit he had on was uncomfortable as hell. Stupid suit, stupid tie, stupid ladies that kept calling him adorable. He narrowly missed getting pinched by them! What was it with women and pinching kids? He had to duck under her arms and escape, and barely managed even that because he ended up running into more! He couldn’t tell who they were, most of the people here had masks on except for him, like the party was trying to be a masquerade ball, but failing miserably at it.

This was the worst day EVER. Peter threw his hands up dramatically and groaned. He needed a drink.

The punch was probably strawberry or something. Not his favorite, but it would do. Grabbing a cup he filled the vessel to the brim, and chugged the red liquid gratefully. He was… suddenly inclined to take another, though, and so he did. And a third. Woah. Wooooah. Wooooooah.

A burst of inspiration! He felt… artistic! He felt like the most romantic twelve-year-old in the world! Suddenly, Peter felt as if he were the greatest composer to ever live, the greatest instrumentalist of all time! A weight in his pocket suddenly appeared, and when his hand touched the light ivory-colored plastic of his own tool of annoyance, a grin spread across his face.

He knew what he had to do.

Sprinting, he made his way over to the orchestra, all of whom were locked in a concentrated rendition of some song Peter didn’t care about nor could he place a name. The platform was raised. All he needed to do was shove the conductor off and all hell would break loose among the players.

So what’s what he did. The conductor was much too busy directing the musicians along, and it took only a small burst of strength to knock him backward off the stage. A collective gasping was heard across the band, and in a swift, single motion Peter retrieved the recorder from his pocket.

He bowed.

“Ladies and gentleman!” Peter shouted into the microphone. “I’m pleased to introduce myself as Peter Kirkland—yes. That’s Kirkland, by the way! Here to inspire the lot of you boring people is me, and I bring with me this”

Peter held aloft his recorder, as if he were lifting the Holy Grail up to the heavens for God to smile upon. He brought it down to his lips, and with deep inhalation he began to play.

Not even three notes in, an unbearable squeaking was heard as Peter attempted to play one of Man’s most beloved melodies, from one of it’s saddest movies.