MASQUERADE, main thread

W E L C O M E !

This is the official thread for the MASQUERADE event. You may post your character in this thread, and do pretty much what you please. At different points throughout the role-play, posts will be made both by the Architect and other key characters such as Lysander Chevalier. These posts will describe the setting and narrate the events as they unfold. Please have your characters react appropriately to the presented content.

After you have posted your character IN THIS THREAD FIRST, you are welcome to set up your own threads for ‘private’ role-plays between you and another char if you wish and if you feel the main thread is getting too crowded.

As this is an event which operates in a very narrow timeframe (a couple of hours, in real-time), we encourage everyone to make shorter posts than you normally would, so we can move the storyline along quickly.

Additional reminders:

- There are two parties, one for the general public, one for the VIPs (Family people, rich and famous).
- Leaving prematurely is not possible for safety reasons.
- All guests are THOROUGHLY searched for concealed weapons and the like before being permitted entrance.
- Masks must stay on until midnight.
- At the stroke of midnight, Lysander Chevalier will hold a speech. At this point, all threads other than the main one will be locked, and everyone is expected to continue their postings IN the main thread.

Lastly, we hope you enjoy yourselves. The Masquerade has now begun.

The stage was set, the guests had arrived and the annual Chevalier family masquerade ball was just about ready to be opened. A small, but somewhat over-done, stage had been laid out atop the patio steps facing into Kensington Gardens and in the best position to address those who would be outside for the ball but offered an easy movement through the patio doors to indoor party. Quite how he’d been convinced to let the other families attend, let alone have them inside his beloved Kensington Palace, he’d never know. He understood the political gain and ‘correct message’ behind it but a little part of him wished to hurl at the thought of it. It was convenient that he had someone like Daniel to master all the Public Relations as he doubted he could stomach the constant thought of Romanov and Santiago scum.

Stepping through the glass doors and onto the patio, he heard the sound of polite applause as he reached the stage and his microphone. Masquerade or not, Lysander was one of the most recognisable figures in the world and the excited masses knew it was all about to kick off. The Pavilions and the garden lighting looked superb as the Chevalier family designers had succeeded in turning the scenic pocket of London into the Venetian-inspired ‘must-attend’ event.

”Welcome to 33rd Annual Chevalier Masquerade Ball’ Lysander started simply, his voice echoing loudly around the whole building. The family head was dressed in tails with a vibrant blue bow tie resting around his neck and an exquisitely patterned black waistcoat with silver detailing. The mask choice was somewhat terrifying but he enjoyed the three separate expression the adorned his face. It felt as though they said something about the nature of these parties. With a small smile to himself he continued, ”I encourage you to sample each of the pavilions with their distinct bars and atmospheres. Before I declare this ball open, may I remind you that masks are to stay on until midnight and alcohol is to be drunk without thought of tomorrow morning.” The laugh that greeted him reminded him of his public speaking events before the power. It was nice to still be able to get a laugh.

The band struck up on cue and Lysander raised his hands in the air, ”Let the dancing commence.”

This was it. The masque.An annual event that her family threw, Bianca was no stranger to the get-ups and entertainment that passed on the evening of the masquerade ball. This was the thirty-third annual ball, which subsequently meant she'd been attending her entire life. Just as every other year, Bianca watched father from further back on the stage as he addressed the crowd that had gathered to attend. She'd stepped through the glass doors behind her, accompanied by a few others in the Chevalier inner circle. Her hands were clasped before her, resting against the bulge of her stomach beneath her gown.It was a comfort to know that, for the first time since she'd become pregnant, she didn't have to hide it. The wedding band on her finger with a giant rock attached protected her, as did the man at her side, Michael Blackwood. Her eyes were covered by an elegant mask, though she was sure that no one would mistake the only pregnant woman in attendance... still, her pregnancy was not yet common knowledge, even if conclusions could be drawn from her position on the stage. Being married to Michael Blackwood, however, no one could exactly say anything about her children being born out of wedlock. Though the engagement and the wedding had been rushed, and had come as sort of surprise, she and Michael had spent plenty of time convincing the press that they'd kept their relationship a secret until recently. Now it was only to promise them that the children in her womb were his.Her eyes scanned the crowd as her father addressed them, though she didn't recognize a soul with the masks covering their faces. She needed to put in a good word for Landon with her father and Daniel, though she doubted it would be an easy task. But she was sure that Landon would be watching her closely throughout the evening, ensuring that she held up her end of the bargain... otherwise, the photograph would become public knowledge. Even with the safety of the wedding band on her finger, Bianca was smart enough to know that it wouldn't be enough to save her if that photograph came out.The audience laughed at Lysander's warning, and Bianca cracked a smile. The band struck up, and Bianca glanced at her husband, offering him a smile. It had begun.

As Lysander Chevalier called the Masquerade to begin Jia looked out at the large number of party goers already assembled in the palace. With even more guests arriving her thoughts that it wouldn't be as big of a to do as she had been told it'd be seemed to be quashed. She would hand it to the Chevaliers, they certainly knew how to throw a spectacle, even she had to admit it was beautiful here inside the palace. Though unlike the many gathered here, she had to work. Not that Jia particularly minded that, it gave her a purpose and without the job she would never have been in attendance at the masque to see just what kind of night was about to befall the tippy top of the British social elite.

Jia had three objectives for the night, be pretty, be charming, and circulate the champagne like her goddamn life depended on it… at least that was what she had been told. The pretty and charming part of her job description she had handled, and she supposed making sure that not one rich soul was parched was an easy enough gig. Once the music began she picked up a silver tray bearing several flutes of sparkling champagne before heading toward the guests, a beatific smile on her face. Admittedly Jia had never been to a formal party and certainly never a party of this scale. While perhaps a regular member of the public would feel intimidated within a throng of rich socialites, Jia felt nonplussed. She attributed her calm demeanor to her work at Club Noir, after working there for a few years there wasn't much more a rich man or woman could do that would honestly surprise her. Jia knew these types of people, particularly the men, like the back of her hand. She had been a quick study to learn what to say and how to act as to convince them that she was worthy of interacting with them socially.

She began greeting guests and handing out champagne as she'd been instructed. Jia had also been instructed not to spill a drop of the expensive alcohol and it made her wonder just how much a bottle the stuff cost. It wouldn't surprise her if there were flecks of gold in it, because nothing says, "I'm filthy rich" like drinking beverages impregnated with precious metals. Jia was convinced as the night carried on and the crowd became inebriated she wouldn't have to play the pretty waitress and could simply enjoy the party. After all, she'd not gotten all dressed up just to hand out flutes of champagne, mixing and mingling was part of the deal as well and it would certainly be amiss of her not to do her job to the best of her capabilities.

Oh, she was so very excited!The masque was beginning, and Lysander Chevalier was addressing the crowd. Maelie was dressed in a lovely gown, a color of beautiful and vibrant pink, with an intricate golden mask that had flecks of white throughout the pattern. She was so very excited to be attending the ball, and on the arm of a very handsome man, to boot!Adwin Lester was a Chevalier man, that much she knew, but Maelie cared not about politics. After all, he was interested in her, and he had been a perfect gentleman when they'd met in the park a few days prior. When he'd asked her to attend the masque with him, Maelie had been overjoyed to accept. After all, no one else had worked up the courage to ask her! What horrible points they were losing because of that fact. Suitors just weren't what they used to be, were they?Her attention shifted as the band struck up, and she turned her face up to the man at her side, beaming at him. "A marvelous opening, wasn't it?" A giggle slipped past her lips. At least Maelie knew she wouldn't have to hear anything from Sara about dating someone who wasn't a Santiago. After all, Ben was a Chevalier by all means. And so far, Adwin Lester was the closest to an actual Prince Charming she'd found. Well, other than Shane Wheaton.

Eleanor looked forward to the Masquerade Ball every year. No matter what her family said, the Chevaliers knew how to throw a good party. And she loved to dress up, so choosing the perfect dress and mask was nothing short of exciting. Rayne, of course, had helped her get ready prior to her arrival, and now the young Romanov approached the outside of Kensington Palace on her cousin's arm, waving at the other guests happily. Unlike at Rhapsody, no one could be sure it was her. Not with her intricate mask to cover most of her face.As she waved to those around her, the brunette's eyes flickered occasionally to the silver charm bracelet on her wrist, and the sole silver charm that dangled from it. Each time her hazel eyes fell upon the pieces of jewelry, a second, secret smile twitched at the corner of her lips. The pair were a gift Shiloah had given her earlier, before she had gotten ready for the ball. They were a sign for the blonde, to allow her to ascertain which of the guests was Ellie.You see, even though Eleanor had arrived with Jasper, Shiloah had left a note for her underneath the chocolate-covered strawberries she had brought that weekend at Buckingham Palace. In it, Shi explained that she had won a Golden Ticket to the Masquerade, and asked if Ellie would be her date. The two had it all worked out: Ellie would wear the bracelet, and Shiloah would wear a matching ring, so they could find one another. The Romanov had no idea what dress her friend would be wearing, but she was sure that Shi would look absolutely stunning, and she could hardly wait to see her.But that was for later. Right now, Ellie had to remain with Jasper. Her arm linked with his, they approached the patio to listen to Lysander Chevalier make the welcoming speech. The young Romanov thought his mask was unique, though somewhat terrifying. At his words, she laughed. Ellie leaned in towards her cousin. "No matter what my mother or brother say, Lysander Chevalier is an excellent orator. He knows how to handle a crowd." She smiled a bit at that, patted Jasper's arm, and glanced around at each of the possible pavilions that the Head Chevalier had mentioned. Since Shiloah was nowhere to be seen, and since Eleanor still had to make her 'rounds' with the other guests, she tilted her head to look up at Jasper."So. Where shall we go first?"

There was something wholly unnerving about being surrounded by so many people whose faces were all obscured by masks, ranging from the simple, elegant to the completely outrageous. Fortunately, Emilia had picked out a very tasteful, classical Phantom mask, which covered half of his face - he much preferred this to the outrageous get-ups some of the other guests were sporting. He was loath to go out in public for the plain reason of showing off, which, let's be real, that's all these sort of Family get-togethers were good for, being seen, and there was absolutely no reason to add insult to injury by dressing up and making himself feel ridiculous. He wore a simple black and white attire, black tie, white gloves and his hair combed back sleekly.

Much more noticeable was the lady at his side - Emilia looked stunning, just as he knew she would. If she hadn't been his assistant, and he hadn't been her boss, he would have lavished her with compliments all night. As it were, he had contained himself to remarking on the excellent style of dress and thanking her for having such a good eye in picking out an appropriate outfit for himself. He did not remark on how beautifully the draped fabric hugged her form or how the colour made her eyes shine and look even more lovely and alive than usual - which was saying something. He felt fairly certain Emilia could make a rag look like the cutting edge of fashion.

Anyway, he was here, not on private matters, but rather to embrace the opportunity to get to talking to some of those Chevalier business people who otherwise tended to keep their doors closed to all those outside their own Family. As they listened to Lysander Chevalier address the crowd and declaring the ball open, his eyes rowed over the throng of onlookers and his brows furrowed behind his mask. Of course it would be near impossible to recognise anyone at a masked ball -- what a bother.

Then again. His head turned to his assistant, just as Lysander rounded his brief speech.

"Well then, Sweets. You heard the man - may I have this dance?"

Someone at the station had been having a great laugh when they'd picked his costume for the ball. Still, the jester mask seemed fitting, ironically. After all, what was he but a fool springing around, trying to amuse the masses while simultaneously humiliating himself? So he had conceded to wearing the thing -- perhaps it was a good thing no one could read his expression behind the mask.

The entire event would be broadcast live for the entirety of the evening, which mean Colin and his TV crew was busily running around trying to get their makeshift studio ready for action. Well -- Colin was doing less running around and considerably more shouting orders while stalking around, spreading dread and terror in his wake. And that new insufferable intern, Claire, was nowhere to be found of course, which didn't help improve his mood. She had been a thorn in his side ever since the station had hired her - he had done his best to make her existence a living hell, but so far she didn't seem to have noticed it at all. But tonight, she was let loose out in the public for the first time - plenty of opportunities to mess up and embarrass herself. And Colin would be right there, ready to make the most of it when she did, inevitably, slip up.

But incompetent interns were the farthest thing from his mind presently. Lysander Chevalier was just about to make his grand opening speech, so cameramen were hurriedly putting up their equipment while one of the crew members attached a microphone to his lapel. Three, two, on, and ... Air. Once the Chevalier Family's patriarch had concluded his concise speech, the crowd erupted into an applause, and the cameras pointed to Colin.

"Well, there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. The Chevalier ball has begun and people are already hitting the dance floor. We'll be broadcasting live for you viewers at home all night, so make yourselves comfortable and prepare to be wowed as Marcia takes you through the menu for the night - Marcia, over to you."

He stepped away as the broadcast cut to the LCNTV studio, where the airhead correspondent Marcia Stapleton, self-proclaimed fashion and lifestyle guru, would run a segment. He was supposed to catch some people for interviews later, but he had some time off right now. Might as well go scout for Claire and tell her Mr. Gabriel Santiago had requested a private interview with her. It would be quite amusing to see the uptight little Miss Mason stride up to the head of the Santiago Family and start throwing questions at him ... Not to mention Gabriel's reaction.

One of the good things about being anonymous was that one did not have to stand by their uncle's side and look on the man in utter adoration while he addressed their guests. She could rather get used to this whole mask thing - it was very liberating to not have anyone come up to you and want to strike up a conversation simply because of who they thought you know or because they thought they could get favours out of you. No, she was simply free to d what she liked best - and that was to stand silently and observe.

There was Bianca, whom she recognised easily if for her protruding belly alone. She was standing behind her uncle, on the stage where the live orchestra would be playing throughout the evening. For once Helena had not joined the rest of the Chevaiier crowd. She simply did not care to partake in the spectacle the revelation of Bianca's pregnancy was sure to set in motion - she felt like she could vomit in the nearest flower decoration just by the mere thought of it, really. And besides, she had other, private, reasons for not wanting to flaunt herself to the public. She wished to preserve her anonymity for as long as possible tonight - she knew it couldn't be too long, because of course there were people who knew her by her attire alone.

Among them was her escort, one Nathan Ross, who currently stood by her side and partook in the applause as her uncle finished his introduction. The Chevaliers stepped off the stage, music started playing and the crowd began to disperse to allow room for the first couples braving the dance floor. She turned to the man next to her, smiling. "Shall we get something to drink? I'm parched."

Oh, this was all terribly overwhelming. So many exquisite dresses and glamorous costumes; costly, jewelled and feathered masks; diamonds, rubies, gold, silver, precious coloured gems; champagne fountains, a string orchestra performing the most moving pieces of classical music - not to mention, the stars! True, she did not recognise half of them for the masks they wore, but she did at least know that Lysander Chevalier was the one greeting all the guests in a short welcoming speech. And then, all at once, the ballroom was a hustle and bustle of commotion, and she had to step aside to clear the dance floor. Luckily Dax was by her side, ensuring that she did not get trampled over by the eager partygoers.

She felt very small and insignificant amidst all this splendour - if not for the fact that the costume department at The Globe had been extremely kind in lending her an appropriate dress for the night, she did not think she would have the nerve to stick around. Her meagre budget hardly allowed her to splurge on the kind of lavish, over-the-top and perfectly wonderful garments everybody inside the palace were dressed in. In fact, she would not be here at all, if not for the special golden ticket she had won ... And to think, now she was here, rubbing shoulders with the cream of the British society, the rich and famous!

It was almost exciting enough that she forgot to be anxious and apprehensive. But the illusion only lasted until some careless soul bumped into her shoulder as he made his way through the crowd. She froze, feeling an uncomfortable prickle travel up her spine; her senses were all alert and her eyes darted wildly around to locate the perpetrator. He was long gone before she realised nothing was amiss, and slowly filled her lungs with air to calm her tattered nerves. She hadn't realised how much of a trial this night would be.

"Can we get away from the crowd?" She looked to Dax, endlessly grateful that he was there with her.

She laughed alongside everyone else and clapped politely when Lysander Chevalier finished his welcome speech - though behind her mask, she was far from amused. They were on Chevalier grounds, with Chevalier guards, Chevalier security, Chevalier ..... Just generally Chevaliers crawling all over the place, and it made her feel uneasy. It was unfamiliar territory to her, to be on Daniel Bancroft's home court - the tentative truce between the three families had only just recently been established, and it was as if everyone was just holding their breath, waiting for the other team to make the first mistake to make their whole arrangement collapse. The Santiagos and Romanovs had been allies for four years now, they had had time to get acquainted with one another by now, learned the boundaries and how far their trust in each other went ... The Chevaliers, however, was the new horse in the race, the one you couldn't be sure would win you a profit if you choose to bet on it, or if it would horribly disappoint. It was a gamble to even be here tonight, and she couldn't help the suspicious glances she kept throwing in the general direction of Cathleen Romanov and the rest of the Romanov posse.

It didn't help that Rhett was apparently PMS'ing tonight, either. It had been amusing, initially, to poke fun of his sour mood, but eventually his aloof responses had begun to grate on her nerves, and they were now mostly ignoring each other. It wouldn't be long now before she could give him the slip anyway - half the game was to be seen arriving together, waving and smiling at the press and looking oh-so-happy in each other's company. She felt certain they would not need to keep up the charade for long - perhaps a dance, perhaps a few strategic words exchanged with a selection of particularly important socialites and businessfolk, and then they were each free to roam about on their own. And not a moment too soon.

She had absolutely no regrets concerning their last encounter. In fact, she rather revelled in her triumph over him, and his childish behaviour now only served to reaffirm her resolve in rejecting him. The mighty Rhett Butler had been lured in by his own tricks, and now that the tables were turned on him he could do nothing but pout. Honestly. She nearly rolled her eyes, but rather than give away her thoughts so blatantly, she turned to her companion and put on a sincerely fake smile.

"Such a witty welcome, don't you agree? Why, one almost feels as though he means it."

Another party to attend? Exciting. But the fact that it was being hosted by the bloody Chevaliers? How positively droll.There are no doubt that the other families could throw parties and events; after all, they all had money. Money could buy the best entertainment, but that didn't mean that the event was worth going to. The Chevalier name left a sour taste in Zora's mouth, but she was going to show her support for the dear Romanov family. Or rather, she was going to keep an eye on her son and darling niece, as well as her deranged nephew. Ever since her tryst with Alex the other night and finding the drawings in his possession... well, Zora couldn't help the smirk that slid onto her lips. It was all falling into place, everything becoming much easier in her plot to marry off Jasper to Eleanor.Now all she needed to do was convince them... and she hadn't yet found the perfect way to convince Eleanor. Of course, Zora was a fantastic talker and easily able to manipulate her niece. She could merely convince Eleanor that marrying Jasper would be safer for her, to allow her to be with someone who would accept her and love her for who she was... After all, she would never be able to publicly show her affection for a female. Everyone knew that. And dear Eleanor feared that people would hate her... so Zora would play on that. Still, if there were anything better to come along, Zora would jump on it.But Zora had other reasons for attending the masque as well... she would find Rayne soon enough. She followed in behind Eleanor and Jasper as they entered, her extravagant gown drawing many eyes to her. But of course, Zora was hidden behind the mask that shielded her eyes, just as everyone else was. She kept herself a little behind her son and niece, but her eyes were trained to them exclusively. The words that spewed from Lysander Chevalier's lips were of little consequence to her, though she happily accepted a flute of champagne when it was offered by a circulating waitress.

Lysander Chevalier's speech came to a close, and as the band struck up a chord and began their first set, people shuffled and made their way to the dance floor. Dax protectively looped his arm around Bea's slim waist, pulling her from the direct line of people that seemed so very eager to trample her over. It seemed plenty of people were more than ready to get the night started, though Dax had his apprehensions. After all, the last family event that had been thrown had not escaped the attentions of the Legion, and Dax worried about any attempts of mayhem that might happen with the masque.But he kept his thoughts to himself, for he really wanted Bea to relax and enjoy herself. This was the first time she'd really been out to an event like this since her attack, he was sure, and the VIP ticket she won should not have gone to waste. With Dax there to accompany her, she had seemed almost excited about attending the masque.He released her as the flow of people heading to the dance floor lessened, taking her hand and placing it against his arm. But just as soon as it had seemed to settle, a lone passer-by bumped his shoulder against Bea, knocking her rather roughly. Dax felt the abrupt movement of her beside him, then felt her body tense. "Bea...?" Dax said over the soft lull of the music, turning to her and lifting a hesitant hand. He paused just before brushing his fingertips against her cheek. Her eyes seemed to register and she let out a breath, resuming her normal lung functions.A gentle smile broke out onto his lips at her request, and Dax nodded. "As my lady wishes," he said, eyes twinkling behind the mask he wore. Dax was never someone who got into playing dress-up, so his attire for the evening was less extravagant than those around him. Dressed in a simple tuxedo, he didn't mind being one of those that wasn't ornamented up. Besides, he didn't want any attention taken away from the striking beauty that Beatrice was. Of course, she wanted none of the attention, and Dax couldn't blame her.Dax placed his hand on the small of her back, maneuvering the two of them through the crowd toward the edge of the grand ballroom. He placed his back near the wall and pulled Bea beside him, his hand still resting lightly on her trim waist. Gazing down at her, Dax offered an easy smile. "You look stunning, Bea."

Rhett was genuinely amused by the Chevalier shindig, though in his mind, nothing could ever live up to the wonders of what Team Santiago was capable of. Just as he could talk circles around the other families in matters of the press, Team Santiago could spin parties and events around the other families. But, following suit as Team Santiago had done with the charity concert at Rhapsody, the Chevaliers had invited everyone to attend. They even had a little VIP section roped off for the families and their inner circles, of which Rhett was most certainly a part of.As was his date, Georgiana Lemon.He'd been cool with her from the very moment he'd climbed back in his car after her wanton behavior on her front stoop a few weeks ago. Yes, he had agreed to take her to the masque; after all, it was part of their jobs. They were representing the Romanov family and Team Santiago, who were supposed to be united in a truce. It was only fitting that their Heads of Public Relations should show up together and present that picture even more clearly. And considering they were on Chevalier territory, they had to keep their front stronger than ever.But that didn't mean that Rhett had to like it. He could be nice and compliment Scarlett to anyone who asked, but he had other intentions for this evening. Scarlett had really pissed him off that night, but what seemed to be furthering his bad mood around her was the fact that he actually gave a damn. A woman should not have this level of an affect on him, and it was utterly unsettling that she did. And the fact that she might even know of the power she held was an even bigger reason to keep his cool attitude in check. She had began poking fun at him when he'd picked her up, but by the time the music had begun, Scarlett seemed to have gotten the message. Mostly, they were ignoring one another.Her voice carried into his ears, but Rhett did not turn to look at her. Dressed in a costume fit for a king, Rhett looked marvelous. And he was hoping to catch the attentions of a certain Emilia Sweets as she was swept onto the dance floor by none-other than Ethan Blackbourne. He found it difficult to mistake that creamy white skin, smooth as porcelain, and that dark chestnut hair. That, and the fact that she accompanied the tall, dark, and handsome figure that must have been Ethan Blackbourne. Not that Rhett had any sort of attraction toward Blackbourne, it was just... well, how he categorized things in his head. Perfectly normal.The mask] covering his eyes had a rather interesting design as it dipped around the contours of his face, and a slight smile curved his lips. "Just about," Rhett commented back at Scarlett, his eyes trained on Emilia and Blackbourne. "Shall we dance?" he asked calmly, throwing a single glance in her direction, and regretting it instantly. Unfortunately, it didn't matter how angry he was with her. One look was all it took to remember why he had responded so eagerly when she'd kissed him that night.

And so she'd managed to escape the confining enclosure where she was being kept with Adelina de Luca. Being confined there with Brady wasn't so horrible, but the two of them together... Ugh. She could have made herself sick. But of course, he had to cater to her. There were reasons, she knew... she understood. He needed her. But he didn't love Adelina. No... not at all. Not in the way that he loved her. And it was completely understandable. Who could possibly love a woman like Adelina? She was so... spoiled. Stuck-up. And who knew better than Morrigan Fawcett, her personal assistant?Slave was more like it sometimes.But at least there was Brady in her life now. Stolen moments, stolen kisses, stolen nights when he came to her and ravished her body. Oh, and how she loved every minute of it. The whisper of her name on his lips, whenever it was done, always sent a shiver up her spine... And this was the reason she'd come tonight. This was the reason she had escaped the confines of their hidden living space, hidden only until Brady was ready to reveal his presence in London to Cathleen. And though Morrigan was not to be mingling directly with the higher ups in the VIP section of the masque, that worried her very little. This was a good chance for her to test the waters... to get her feet wet.She had plans. Big plans. Plans to help Brady get what he wanted, what he needed, and to help herself in the same move. She was planning to be rid of Adelina, leaving Brady free to marry her instead. She would sit at his right hand and be the woman that Adelina could not be, and together they would take over where Cathleen had failed. At least, that was how Morrigan saw things in her mind. Some details might have been twisted a bit, but that hardly mattered. She wanted the same things Brady did.. power, and to be rid of Adelina. And so she had come to the masque, keeping her promise that she would not reveal her true identity. But she was no one in this town...Morrigan had foregone the wig she normally wore, choosing to let her long blonde hair fall down around her shoulders in loose waves. Intricate beads and patterns were woven through the mass of tresses, her costume very fitting for the event. Morrigan had always loved parties such as this, and loved dressing in these sorts of clothes. The Renaissance was a time of love and romance, one of Morrigan's favorite time periods... after all, she was certainly a hopeless romantic. A smirk curved her lips as the band moved into its song and people took to the dance floor, her face hidden behind her mask.It would be interesting to see who, if anyone, paid her any mind. She was a stranger here, an intruder. And though she had no plans for mayhem within these walls, Morrigan had a plan. She would meet people, she would make connections and network.. and when the time came to reveal herself alongside Brady and -- ugh -- Adelina, she would find out who she could really trust to be useful to her. And there were very few things she wouldn't do to get what she wanted.