|
Post by Ivanka von Kraginskaya on Apr 13, 2010 10:05:28 GMT -5
A raven haired girl had called the white-haired man 'albino'. Ivanka then received the answer she was looking for. Ah! So that's what's happening. Of course, having her knack for trouble, she didn't really care whether it was a hostage. But still, if she hadn't gotten into a fight earlier this day, then she wouldn't have gotten her ass kicked and she would not have ended up in here. Though, still not getting a reply from the albino and having a pissed off girl explaining everything to her, Ivanka walked into a party. And what else to do while having a party? Have fun!
"Ah!I follow, I follow... So, are there drinks in here? I would prefer the ones with alcohol thank you!" Ivanka asked as she was looking for something to drink. Still not bothering to tell which way she entered, Ivanka decided to play with them for a while. Have some fun and relax a bit. life's too short and you gotta live it out to the fullest. Ivanka felt an itch. Something was about to happen that wasn't good. But it would be too soon to leave before the grand event. ---- Short reply! XD
|
|
|
Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Apr 14, 2010 6:56:13 GMT -5
"You left a note," Gilbert said with a simple shrug. "I didn't want bocchan alone in a crowd of people he didn't know. Besides..." he chuckled and leaned forward, crimson eyes sparkling faintly in the light of the room, "I enjoy listening to you play, it's..." he trailed off, twitching as a loud shout of 'old man' filled his ears. The Prussian pulled away from Roderich almost immediately, taking the brunette's immediate left-side rather than leaning into his face and gave the female that had addressed him a faintly irked look. Did he really appear to be that old...?
"I don't know what's going on," he muttered, his clear frustration of not knowing what to do evident in his tone. "I don't care. Some lady had an ego trip and now the more awesome people, like myself, are left to clean it up. I say we force our way out, but something tells me it just isn't going to work." Another voice called out and Gilbert felt a faint rush of gratitude toward who seemed to have a bit more common sense than the woman who was currently rambling about drinks. Really, he knew alcohol was nice, but humans were far too addicted to it for their own good (of course, for someone like him who could down several pints and still be as sober as he started, he couldn't really talk.) He shrugged and side, brushing his bangs out of his eyes as he spoke. "Not a damn clue. I can't tell what kind of magic she's using; there are too many people in here to tell one mana signature from the other. It's focused at all the exit points, that's about as much as I can tell you. Keep attacking it, maybe it'll fall... but as of right now, I don't know." I've never seen something like this before...
Glancing at Roderich, he grinned, gesturing to the door dramatically as his eyes sparkled with the idea of destruction. "Should I attack and see what I can do?" --------------------- A/N: Strange reply is strange...
|
|
|
Post by Elizaveta Héderváry on Apr 14, 2010 9:35:28 GMT -5
Elizaveta had been more than tired and by the time the lady, or whoever that vixen was, decided to make this already one hell of a party into true hell. Mumbling a silent curse, she quickly make her way across the panicking crowds, wanting to make sure that there really is no other way of escape besides the one that's already sealed.
There are faint traces of magic everywhere, so she suppose, this situation isn't as bad as she initially thought it is. At least together, they should be able to find a way to get that annoying magic off... That is, if they would stop panicking.
Some even had taken this situation for their advantage, as she could already caught some hands getting into pockets that are not their own. She watched in amusement as the man with white hair jumped onto the stage and rushed towards the violinist's side, throwing his mask off and thus, revealing his face. There's no point in keeping your identity a secret anymore, she thought to herself, and brought her own hand to remove the mask from her face.
And that's when she noticed that face.
Even after years of not seeing him... "Roderich...?" She whispered, eyes wide as if she had just seen ghost. A ghost of her past indeed. The Hungarian stood on her place, taking in the face as much as she could, remembering it, making sure that she was not just imagining it, that it really is the Roderich she once knew that was standing there on the stage, not a stranger with same face.
|
|
|
Post by Roderich Edelstein on Apr 14, 2010 13:41:56 GMT -5
Casting a wary gaze over the two newcomers -- women, both -- Roderich glanced at the magic before shaking his head. "That's... probably not a good idea, Gilbert," he said finally. "Nothing of a human's physical strength could break that barrier, anyway." His tone was a gentle warning to the other man, hoping that he'd take the hint that revealing his true nature -- however inadvertantly -- wouldn't be the best of ideas in an already-panicking hall full of nobles.
Looking around the stage, his attention was caught by a black leg protruding from beneath a red cloth. Without a word, he briskly crossed the stage and tore the cloth off to reveal a baby grand piano -- again, not something imbued with its own magic, but certainly more powerful than the violin he'd attempted to use earlier. "Gilbert..." he said finally, not really caring if the two young women had followed him over. "If I can manage to clear people away from the barriers, can you try casting something?"
His fingers brushed the keys with all the passion of a kiss before abruptly slamming both hands down in a discordant note.There were a few screams of surprise, then silence. "Everyone, please," Roderich requested without raising his voice much above normal speaking tone, "Move away from the doors. Now."
|
|
|
Post by Anica Popescu on Apr 14, 2010 14:51:44 GMT -5
The Romanian blinked at the other newcomer, they were in the middle of a hostage situation, and all he/she wanted was some booze?
“There’s champagne on the table, since, you know, booze is top priority here, right?” she snorted before continuing, “Of course, you could also go and join Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum across the room. Really big Russian guy, you can’t miss ‘im. He’s got vodka, and you all can get smashed together.” She turned back towards the two men, relieved that she was right about the albino; that his head wasn’t in his ass. Although she felt a pang of annoyance at the arrogance in his tone,
‘Take what you can’ Anica reminded herself mentally.
“I don’t think attacking it is a very good idea. I heard through the grape vine that the magic blocking the doors is the same type used at refugee camps. Touch it, and your insides liquefy.” The Romanian scrunched her nose in disgust and hastily tried to push the mental image out of her mind. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell want to keep my insides the way they are, thank you.” She saw the man gesture dramatically to the door and suggest attacking it, her face immediately met her palm.
“Were you even listening to me?” She asked exasperated. She glanced up when the aristocratic brunette walked across the stage, without really thinking about it, she hopped onto the stage and followed. How had she not noticed the giant sheet hiding a baby grand piano? “Sooo, you’re a bard?” She asked the brunette, watching him as his fingers brushed the keys almost… passionately. The way that would would gently touch the person you loved...
‘What a freak…’ The Romanian thought. Whatever this man’s feelings for instruments was, she really didn’t have a choice but go along with what they had planned. Two magic users or people familiar with magic at least, would prove to be useful. She jumped at the sudden mash of keys, and raised a brow at his request. Did his parents tell him that raising his voice was a bad thing, or something stupid like that?
“You heard the man!” (Or not…) Anica exclaimed, turning towards the crowd, “Get your asses away from the doors!”
|
|
|
Post by Ivanka von Kraginskaya on Apr 15, 2010 1:17:41 GMT -5
Having herself felt uncared for by the whole group, maybe now was such a bad time for drinks. Though, the smell of lots of drinks around did around her senses. Her dark red eyes looked over to the brunette who had unravelled a baby piano under a sheet. He was a bard now what he? What beautiful music he played! It sounded just like the music her...
SLAP!
Ivanka slapped herself a loud one. Now was not the time to reminisce. So the red strings melted you, huh? Pretty clever trick to the one who had taken them all into hostage. Including the one who just wandered into the room. The brunette had asked the old man to clear something and was now asking the people to step aside from the door. Which of course none of them heard. Also the young girl had also requested them to step back a bit. Still, not all moved out of the way. Something must call catch their attention. Looking around the room, she noticed one of those tiny chandeliers hanging. THe material was not strong enough. Ivanka had encountered this before.
Taking a small dagger from one of her hidden pockets behind her shins, she took out a small dagger and threw it quick enough to weaken the material causing the small chandelier to fall and causing all the people to shut when they noticed the shattered glass on the floor. Now that they got their attention, she had hoped that the fall didn't disturb the playing of the brunette bard.
"Yo people! Get all of your big fat rich asses away from the door unless you want to see the devil himself in three seconds!" Ivanka threatened the people who then slowly moved away from the doors. She then turned her attention to the old man who...
OH YEAH!!
"Oh yeah! I am not paying for that! Ivanka yelled out to the crowd.
|
|
Diran Parisyan
Junior Member
Ranger
"We are presumed guilty, even when proven innocent."
Posts: 54
|
Post by Diran Parisyan on Apr 18, 2010 20:21:55 GMT -5
Diran's head had begun to ache, and his eyes were flickering shut until he heard Roderich and Anica give a shout to move away from the doors. He smiled a little, watching everyone run around with no sign of stopping. It was futile to even-- the chandelier crashed into the floor, making him jump and tighten his grip on Ivan's arm. Eyes hazy with alcohol, he stared at the crazy girl who appeared to have destroyed the chandelier, god only knew how she'd managed it.
"W-why... would you do that?" Diran stared at Ivanka with his brows deeply furrowed, giving her a look as though he were in pain.
"It was a... perfectly good chandelier. I mean, y-you could have just shouted or... y'know threatened them with death... Perfectly good chandelier, probably handmade, gone to waste. And furthermore, have you always been completely mad, or is this a recent development- inquiring minds wish to know."
He was taking a few stumbling steps towards Ivanka and even further away from the doors; once the spell was broken everyone would be rushing out the door and someone was bound to get hurt. The Armenian waved a hand at the two men on the stage as if to say 'please continue, I won't be any trouble.'
"Work your magic. I'd hate to be useless, but I'll probably kill myself if I try to help." Diran called softly up towards the albino and his bard companion, turning his attention back to the- of course she was taller than him, bloody of course. ------------ (-shrug- Someone had to post.)
|
|
|
Post by Elizaveta Héderváry on Apr 20, 2010 10:06:25 GMT -5
Elizaveta watched quietly as the man moved through the stage, finding no strength to tore her eyes away from him. Memories. So much of them. The ones she wanted to remember and the ones... she don't even want to think about it. They were rushing at her though, all those memories, both the bad and the good one, and--
Somehow, despite all the ruckus the guests were making, she could still hear the violinist's voice. That calm tone and the voice did match her memories of the Austrian boy, and she was confused, horribly confused as to what she should do.
The Hungarian winced when she heard the sound of something crashing into the floor. Loud and terrible noises, it was starting to cause her headache, like something was pounding in the back of her head. With a heavy sigh, she turned away to see whoever it was that's foolish enough to cause more noise than necessary, and thus panicking the guests more than they needed right now. Her face immediately turned into an expression of frown when she saw what had crashed.
Such a good and beautiful thing... The words that stranger she didn't know had spoken are exactly what she wanted to say. Except probably, she would say it in less than pleasant manner than the man's. But given the situation, she could care less about one broken chandelier. Her top priority now is to get out of this place as fast as possible. That, and getting to talk to the mysterious violinist.
|
|
|
Post by Ivan Braginsky on Apr 20, 2010 16:07:47 GMT -5
Ivan's grip tightened a little on the Armenian when Anica called him 'dead weight'. Diran seemed a little bit different, but he was different in a good way.
Dead weight though? His new found friend certainly wasn't dead weight--he seemed alive and for the most part functional, if not a bit drunk. But this was a party and some people couldn't hold their alcohol. That didn't really make them dead weight did it? It just meant they weren't as helpful as they could be--though what could really be done about the barrier keeping them in like cattle? Or rather, what could those who didn't use magic do? If the woman came back, he could be of help. It shouldn’t be too hard to make her bleed, and when she did--oh her blood would make such pretty splatters. A giggle bubbled past his lips, his smile growing.
Violet eyes watched the woman as she went to make friends with the white haired man he'd seen earlier, a serious looking violinist, and a rather boyish looking girl. The musician played a rather painful sounding note on a small piano he pulled out, causing a few surprised shrieks than silence. Ah, it was good silence too~ That silence, however didn't last for very long.
Ivan watched as the androgynous woman threw a knife at the ornate chandelier that hung at the center of the room, and his eyes tracked it as it went crashing to the ground, with an explosion of noise. The glass shattered, almost exploded out, and the rest lay like a dead thing in the middle of the dance floor. The man in front of him jumped, and tightened his grip for a movement before stumbling away to speak to the Slovakian.
A piece of glass hit Ivan's boot before he could follow, and he bent down to pick it up, turning it over in his fingers. The glass glittered, dozens of colors reflecting off of it, including a color he liked quite a bit-- a distinct shade of yellow that reminded him of sunflowers. He stared at it for a long moment, before glancing up at the Slovakian.
"That… wasn't very nice," he called out to her, almost sing-song in his tone. He advanced a little until he was almost to the stage, a little ahead of Diran. "You broke it. And you upset my friend. You should apologize now, da?"
|
|
|
Post by Ivanka von Kraginskaya on Apr 22, 2010 9:39:46 GMT -5
Well, I can see the craziness seems to be working! XD ---
Feeling that her gesture may have gone a bit too far, Ivanka just looked at everyone who just seemed to be a bit pissed from the crashing of a chandelier. What? It was just one chandelier!! Thank god it wasn't even the biggest one or else she knew she'd be digging her grave by now. Did the people here really care about things like this when it came to hostages? Well, it seemed a bit stupid to her to be upsetting on one chandelier now. It was either that or being trapped there for good. Hearing lots of complaints from the little Armenian man beside her who was complaining on the chandelier even saying it was handmade and stuff. Well, these were the times to say 'I don't care'. Another thought came across Ivanka's mind. Will she tell them about her entrance or will she save that for last? Better to have some fun for now right?
"You really care for a 'handmade' chandelier? Ivanka made sure that the word 'handmade' was put in quotations or emphasized, towards the little Armenian who still looked upset on the chandelier. "It's not even real gold. And the glass is too brittle. I have seen better chandeliers. Ivanka told him, not meaning to be rude of course. But maybe by the way she had said it, it may have been a bit ruder than she intentionally have wanted to say it. Well, it was obvious it wasn't only him who was upset by the crash of the chandelier. Well, she did have to admit, it was beautiful. But, beauty has its prices now doesn't it? Nothing can have eternal beauty. Well, almost no one can.
Feeling a towering presence step up to her, Ivanka just smiled to the presence of the smell of vodka nearby. Must be from the chubby-faced-Russian man who was telling her about her actions and to apologize to his friend. He did have a familiar aura about him. Well, Ivanka just met him and maybe he just gave off the same energy. "Apologize....?" Of course, maybe that wouldn't be too bad. Still the way she spoke it was as if she had a hard time even saying the word. She wheezed the word out with her eyes widened to the thought.
"Maybe I can just treat you guys out for drinks!" she suggested with a smile. It would take years for her to apologize. Especially for a chandelier.
|
|
|
Post by Anica Popescu on Apr 24, 2010 5:44:17 GMT -5
Anica visibly jumped at the sudden, horrible sound of at least eight or ten pounds -maybe even more- of glass hitting the ground and shattering. Shards of colorful glass flying all around before hitting the floor with a resounding clatter.
"What... the hell?" The Romanian asked, turning her head towards the now-interested-in-escaping boyish-girl. She looked back to the shattered remains of the chandelier, it reminded her of something that would more likely than not be in her old home, beautiful and elaborate in its design. But really nothing more than a pretty decoration used to flaunt how much money you had without being too obvious. Her attention was drawn away from the destroyed thing when Diran walked, stumbled more like, towards the puddle of shattered glass and drunkenly going on and on about how it wasn't very nice for the girl beside her to break the chandelier and that it was probably handmade.
"Oh. Bitch, bitch, moan, whine." Anica said, with an eye roll. "You aren't gonna start crying over something as small as that are you?" She asked, gesturing to the chandelier that no longer was.
No sooner than she had finished speaking, the Russian man came close to the stage, demanding in the most falsely innocent way that Ivanka apologize for 'making his friend upset.'
"He's drunk, he'd get upset if you told him you had squashed an insect under your foot." Maybe it was an exaggeration, maybe it wasn't. Anica had seen many a person drunk in her years of wandering, and really, the Armenian was acting like Ivanka had just broken a priceless object.
|
|
Mei Hwang
New Member
Healer
Freedom...a word that only, truly leads to one thing...choice.
Posts: 13
|
Post by Mei Hwang on May 5, 2010 15:39:39 GMT -5
Mei had always enjoyed parties. Most served very nice food and drink (though she stayed away from any alcohol), had generally pleasant company, and showcased fabulous entertainment. Well, in those respects, this party was no different. However, the Taiwanese girl couldn't help but feel uncomfortable.
Maybe it was the masks. People seemed so foreign and strange wearing the masks; you couldn't read their faces, and sometimes, you couldn't even tell if they were human. Okay, your common sense told you they were; but your heart wasn't quite sure all the time. She had worn a mask, yes, but only because this was a masquerade, and it was appropriate-- no, necessary-- to wear one at it. And also, in the hopes that it would cover her growing anxiety, hiding it from these strange beings with colorful masks.
Or maybe it was her clothes. She had abandoned her usual, Oriental-style clothing for a Western dress; pink with gold beading, reaching to her ankles with a straight cut. A mask of similar style was accompanying it; pink with golden trim and small jewels. Her hair-flowers, usually present, were gone, and her head felt strange without them. Without her unusual, exotic style of dress, she drew little attention to herself, which only made her feel like part of the normal crowd, or the people who had come but really didn't want to. Not someone who mattered or who stood out.
Yes, she really should have worn that pretty qipao.
Gently slipping between people and out of the large crowd, she momentarily leaned against a pillar and sighed to herself, before straightening up and gazing over the people. The crowd was making her feel a bit dizzy and a more than a bit uncomfortable. At the moment, she wanted nothing more than to leave and go home; to return to her sketching. However, she seemed to have lost sight of the exit.
She leaned lamely against the pillar, hoping that someone would come her way; help her out of this place or at least talk with her.
[Lame post is lame xD]
|
|
|
Post by Kiku Honda on May 13, 2010 13:28:00 GMT -5
As Kiku entered the building the first thing that hit him was the noise. It was so loud he could hardly hear himself think and he had half a mind to turn and flee from the hell he had just stepped into without looking back.
But no. He was here now and that was it.
Feeling rather thirsty he bgan to make his way to where he noticed the drink's were being served, weaving in and out of people - of whom were in varying stages of drunkness. Yet he couldn't help but notice a young girl leaning against a pillar in the far corner of the room. it wasn't her beauty that captured him, it wasn't even her attire, it was the way that she held herself. Although she looked lonely, withdrawn and desperate to be anywhere but where she was at that moment in time - she still held herself with a certain dignity which Kiku admired.
Taking a deep breath and nodding as if to reassure himself of what he was about to do, Kiku moved through the throng of people to stand in front of her.
"May I offer you a drink?"
|
|
Mei Hwang
New Member
Healer
Freedom...a word that only, truly leads to one thing...choice.
Posts: 13
|
Post by Mei Hwang on May 14, 2010 15:10:04 GMT -5
She thanked the gods for the stranger that approached her; it didn't really matter who he was, he was someone, and that counted. However, his dark hair, dark eyes, and thin frame did please her, as his appearance reminded her of the people in her home country. Perhaps he was from around there...or perhaps not.
Focusing back on him, she answered "Hua, as long as it doesn't have any alcohol, yes please." She started to regain her composure and smiled at him warmly, before bowing.
"My name is Huang Mei...may I ask yours?"
|
|
Diran Parisyan
Junior Member
Ranger
"We are presumed guilty, even when proven innocent."
Posts: 54
|
Post by Diran Parisyan on May 14, 2010 18:46:39 GMT -5
Taking a handful of Ivan's coat in his hand, Diran took a few steps towards Anica (effectively towing the Russian behind him), her comments inflaming him. How dare she speak to him in that manner, as though she were any better, that obnoxious, useless European! About to deliver a stinging retort, he stopped halfway and glanced at the shattered remains of the chandelier. It had caught his gaze, distracted him, how the light shone through it, was bent through it, casting rainbow shadows across the ballroom floor-
Wait... He backtracked his thoughts. What a concept: bending the light through a prism, splitting it. Then his gaze rose up to the red lines of magic around the perimeter of their cage, and something clicked in Diran's mind. Suddenly, he had an idea. So, with his eyes shining with something other than mild intoxication, he ran towards the stage, letting go of Ivan's coat to do so.
"I am a genius," he stated bluntly. "And so I have an idea. You can thank the... rather ambiguous drunk over there for giving me the idea. The magic this woman is using is quite powerful, yes? Too powerful yet for you- you aren't sure if you can take it down, yes? Well, what if, instead of attacking it, you sort of just bent it?"
A smile split his face for a moment before being hidden behind his blank-mask default expression. Here he was, trying to reason with a beam of light! How fantastic!
"It's the same basic principle as shining light through a prism, yes? So if you found something or someone to act as a prism, you could bend the magic around them and turn it on itself. Such a powerful spell isn't prepared to be attacked by itself- they never are, the powerful ones." He let out a low chuckle behind his gloved hand, immensely proud of himself. God, he was an eloquent drunk!
(The plot needed to be moved along orz...)
|
|