Page One

When the invitations arrived, they included these instructions:
Costumes must be worn for the first part of the evening. Come in costume or one will be provided for you on the night. When the feast begins, all guests still unrecognised will reveal their identities.

The Promenade Hall was set up for autumn. The drapes over the tall windows were coloured in rich brown, gold and red. Straw dolls and well-dressed scarecrows lined the walls along with carved squashes and pumpkins that glowed from within. Up above, the chandeliers burned steadily.

There were no bats, but every so often a window would be crossed by one of the wild wyverns who made the Cross'd Roads their nesting-ground.

At one end of the Hall, neatly tied bales of straw formed a table of sorts. Spread over them was a pool of midnight blue cloth, on which nibbles were arranged: dishes of pumpkin cookies, shortbread discs iced with black spider-webbing, slices of apple cake and, of course, plenty of candy.

The punch in the frosted glass punchbowl was a deep red colour, and contained fruit juice (blackberry, pear and apple being the most immediately identifiable), spices (cinnamon and cloves, likewise) and honey and no alcohol or blood.

A few servants flitted here and there, largely expecting to be invisible and ignored unless someone required something of them. One of them was currently standing directly in front of the punchbowl, pouring some of the punch into a wooden goblet when the door opened. The servant - or rather, servants - turned to watch as two figures walked in.

The servant did a doubletake as he looked at the shorter of the two specimens. Dressed in red, and goodness, what a shade of red it was! The other was clad in the darkest black, and it seemed they were wearing uniform costumes.

Upon moving his gaze from the red one - a person shorter than average - to the tall, black-clad one, the servant summoned up a radiant smile. "Welcome to the party. I would like to compliment you on the hats. Quite nice. Excellent details on the masks as well."

The smaller, red one bowed with pomp the servant seemed to enjoy, and instead of saying a few words in response, replied with:
"Your compliment's well taken, I declare;
Upon our guise much effort has been spent.
And likewise must your troupe have taken care,
To grant the Hall such fine embellishment."

The one dressed in black - after bowing stiffly - replied with:
"I thank you for your courtesy
And reinforce his flattery."

Thinking hard for a while, the servant stared at the two. Shirts (ruffled ones too!), wide-brimmed hats, fancy wide boots and skull masks, red and black. Very, very fancy, and very, very nice. The servant grinned, showing pearly whites. This would indeed be something to see.

The next to arrive surveyed the hall with wide blue eyes before making a beeline for all the colourful sweets. She was wearing a leotard liberally covered with large teardrop-shaped green and blue sequins, of which she was very proud. She had matching veils sewn onto her sleeves for fins and an arrangement of the same behind her to represent a tail. She quickly displayed a preference for yellow jelly beans.

She was soon followed by another guest, who walked calmly though the darkening day and inside as though nothing could hurt him. The impression of compact muscle and selection of scars might have had something to do with it, but then again, so might the fact that he looked like a demonic vampire lord. He also walked immediately foodwards. (Hey, it was free.)

Tropical Fish looked at him, considering the black cloak, closed and fastened by a silver brooch, the oiled and flattened dark hair, the realistic fangs that were revealed as he ate and, lastly and particularly, the leather demon wings attached to his back. "You're dressed scary," she said.

Vampire paused eating on hearing this ambiguous dictum. "Is it good?" he asked.

"Well." The fish gave this serious consideration before passing her verdict. "It's not very pretty."

"Oh. Good." He picked precisely at his pumpkin pasty, seeming to indicate that this line of questioning had ended.

A mockery entered next.

She was dressed in rather unfestive brown men's clothes that were of relatively fine make, although looking a bit worn. A throwing axe hung on her utility belt. The ensemble was topped with a floppy, wide-brimmed hat that had a very long silver-coloured braid sticking out from under it as well as a pair of small but sharply pointed ears. From behind a simple black mask, bright green eyes appraised the hall briefly from the doorway, before turning to gauge the other guests' reactions to her imitation as she ventured inside to join the festivities, her cavalier boots pattering softly against the floor.

The servant was the first to look at the mockery. He did so with widening eyes and a slightly open mouth, but refrained from saying anything. He was too busy staring at her.

Black, instead, gave the mockery a passing glance and then minded his own business again. (Whatever it was, there was no telling.) The androgynous Red Mask however appeared slightly amused judging by a quiet, almost shuffling snicker and the slight heaving of the ruffled shirt. He pointed at the newcomer and looked at Black, extracting another cursory glance and a shrug from the tall man. Then Red walked briskly over to the mockery - the quiet, polite Black in tow -, saying:

"Now there's a countenance I recognise!
Sebastian, unless I'm much mistook?
I cannot help admiring your disguise;
It's all the better for a closer look."

Regaining his composure, the servant shot a long look at Red and his hat. For a moment he seemed utterly confused - but soon enough he opted to grinning with his pearly whites again and winking at the mockery. Without further ado, he turned to tend to the punch.

Next to spy the faux swashbuckler was Vampire Lord. It was fairly obvious exactly when he first laid eyes on her, because his immediate reaction was to grace his surroundings with a liberal spray of pumpkin pie.

Tropical Fish seemed quite appalled by this. She had seen the lady with the long hair too, but didn't see what was funny about her. It was a boring outfit for a party.

Vampire began laughing so hard that his leathery wing attachments shook. Tropical Fish rolled her eyes, tutted exactly like her mother would have, and commenced to ignore him.

She grinned at the cheer of the one in vampiric apparel and briefly basked in the attention before focusing her attention on the first one to approach her.

If she was taken aback by the unexpected rhyming, she didn't show it. Instead, she took off her hat with a flourish and performed a small courteous bow.

Removing the floppy hat revealed that her long braided hair was indeed genuine and firmly attached, as were the pair of small pointy ears that stuck out from behind the black robber's mask, beneath which a permanently mischievous grin was plastered on. The clothes seemed authentic and were a tad too large for her skinny five and a half feet tall figure, even if they didn't look quite large enough to fit the considerably buffer Fox himself. She'd mercilessly taken them in at the seams for a better fit, since she wasn't the right build for most men's clothes.

She struck a pose and put on a fake manly voice, imitating her role's voice as well as she could. It was all ridiculously overdone, of course.

"The one and the same. Terror of treasure troves and bewitcher of babes, the dashing daredevil is at your service."

She was having so much fun already.

Red Mask clapped his hands once excitedly, his body language betraying his pleasure over the young woman's chosen mode of speech. Moving only slightly closer, he continued to talk in the same manner as before.

"Oh, very good. I'd swear he's in the room.
You know him well, his manner to assume?"

Black Mask, instead of paying attention to this newcomer, had his head slightly turned to the side, giving the impression that he was examining Vampire's mirth from a distance.

The servant, shaking a few stray strands of black hair much too long to be kept open, walked to them with a tray, on which were three glasses of punch. He kept his head politely bowed, looking from under his brows with a dainty smile.

The vampire, meanwhile, had gradually stopped showing his molars to the room, though he was still grinning a very fangy grin. Tropical Fish, who was still standing behind him with her arms folded, hmmphed prominently.

"You know... I don't know what you thought was so terribly funny, but you are a very rude man. It's bad manners to laugh at people. I am affronted for her. And you dropped food on the floor."

Vampire's head swivelled and tilted slowly. He blinked down at the child. He was suddenly experiencing a sensation of... doom.

Which was odder, observing his expression, one could even believe he was remorseful.

The cheap Fochs clone placed the wide-brimmed hat back on her head. Somehow it seemed like a well-practiced gesture. Her grin widened a mere bit (since one's face can only stretch so much) when the servant approached. Still staying in character, she didn't let her flamboyant tone of voice slip. "We've spoken some. I schemed the spectacle when I secured this set, his suit supplied by a lucky strike."

She gracefully acquired a glass of punch from the tray, resisting the urge to stick out her tongue at the waiter, as well as the urge to put something extra into the remaining glasses. The latter was harder to resist, but she persevered.

An owl arrives late.

Her mask is made of snowy white feathers that curve along her brow - occasionally obscured by a lock of wayward black hair - and form a pointed beak over her nose, two round holes showing large grey eyes that are, at this moment, quizzical and nervous, trying to take in the entire room at once. Her dress is white, too, a plain strapless affair that falls straight to the floor, excepting a white ribbon that pulls the dress in under where her bust would be, should she happen to grow one for the remainder of the party. A matching ribbon encircles her neck, and at the back it is tied to two matching, downy white feathers that sit between her bony shoulder blades. Her dress obscures her feet, which is lucky, because they are bare.

The skinny, pale creature slides into the room and attempts to find a nice, shadowy corner to hide in whilst not tripping over the hem of her dress.

Black turned his attention to the false swashbuckler as a reaction to her severe repetition of sibillants, but before he could react or act any further, he was forced to deal with a glass of punch. With care, he pronounced:

"The drawback of this mask of mine,
Though quintessential to my role,
Is that the mouthpiece has no hole-
so, ruefully, I must decline."

Red for his part said the same by way of lifting his hand slowly in a sign of "no thank you". He reserved his attention for the poser, and spoke to her:

"Well played, swashbuckler. Tell me then, what news?
A jewel to liberate or gold to grab?
An impish plot, your goddess to amuse?
Come, you can tell Red Death, for I won't blab."

The servant, for his part, only smiled and looked at her with perhaps some manner of admiration. Maybe the looks, maybe the costume, maybe something else. After a cautious glance at Tropical Fish and Vampire, he made his way toward the shadowy corner a white owl was also headed for. Once there, he stopped at a respectful distance and bowed slightly, holding on to the tray with care.

"Welcome to the party, good lady. A drink, perhaps? The punch is fruit juice, honey and spices, suitable for children and adults alike."

She kept giving the servant good-humoured looks all the while he was near. "A gentleman musn't gossip on his gimmicks, go it on genius or gag. My guise is a bit of a goof... I grant, with a grain of guilt", she grinned and shrugged nonchalantly. Somehow it started to seem like she could go on like that forever, no matter how far-fetched it'd become. "For now I'd be gratified to gulp to the gills from this glass and grab myself some goodies", she continued, her gaze shifting to the food items to suggest she meant them instead of any valuables in the area.

Red Death made way politely, even bowing his head a little.
"I'd watch out for the sweets if I were you.
I don't trust anything that bright a blue."

Black seemed to wait for a moment, and then - while the swashbuckler was still within earshot, said to Red:
"I'm certain that you know your biz,
I won't discredit you or scoff.
Besides, the pumpkin may be off.
That vampire spat out most of his."

"Uh," quotes the elegant (f)owl, voice not many notches above a whisper, "I...oh. Well. Um." She stares in apparent panic at the servant for a few moments, then takes a deep inbreath and closes her eyes, opening them with what is apparently resolve. "Yes, please," she says in a more normal pitch, "that would be lovely, thank you so much. Do you.." she pauses, leaning in to take a glass of punch whilst lowering her voice conspiratorially, "..do you think my costume is..suitable?"

The servant bowed slightly, not responding to the thank you in any other way. The question, however, extracted a slightly surprised look from him. He kept his head slightly bowed still as he blinked at the guest. Finally he presented an opinion that wasn't just a meaningless "yes madam" servants were prone to use when in doubt. "I believe it is suitable: no, more than suitable." Another slight bow. "On behalf of the establishment, I would like invite you to show it where the rest of the guests are."

The servant, perhaps having overheard the exchange between Red and Black, cast a glance that way. "They are gathering by the food and drinks. I highly recommend the shortbread. We hope to see you there," the servant said with a faint smile, bowed slightly one last time and then made his way back toward the food. Compared to the rest of the servants in the hall, he was perhaps a bit... too energetic, perhaps, not eager to serve, but eager to see.

She waved a cheerful goodbye to the Death(s) if they didn't show any inclination to follow her.

On the way to the sweets section, she analyzed the content of the glass with her unusually acute sense of smell and, bringing it to her lips, touched the contents with the tip of her tongue. "No alcohol", she mumbled right before reaching her target. It remained unclear whether this was favourable to her or not.

With a grin most unladylike, she greeted the guests she hadn't met yet and raised her hat to them, regardless of the situation she had walked into. She was slipping out of character rather badly, but still maintained her painful mode of speech. "I pray the pumpkin pie isn't poor or hasn't perished past the point of being palatable?" she questioned the one who had spit his out in his surprise a while ago.

"Oh." Vampire looked round at her in surprise and the grin made its way back across his scarred face. "The stuff's great; it's just that you crack me up." He eyed up the sham Sebastian suit appreciatively.

Tropical Fish made an exasperated noise, proving she had quite the masterful range of them, and stepped in front of Vampire while simultaneously seeming not to acknowledge his existence. "You shouldn't talk to him," she instructed the Fochs-impersonator. "He's boorish. I'm Fara, pleased to meet you."

Vampire snorted, but didn't seem particularly offended.

Red and Black followed the imposter, although of course not for the food, which they could not eat yet thanks to their masks. The more talkative Red remained curious and observant, whereas Black remained mainly observant and a little detached. They stayed closer to each other than the others.

The servant, on the other hand, walked past the impersonator and set the tray down next to the empty glasses. He flashed a smile at the impersonator and one also at Tropical Fish. Vampire he blinked at a little cautiously, then set to work again and filled another glass with punch.

There was something of a hrrumph from the vampire lord, who stared after one of the figures as he passed.