eswareinmal | Action: Come one, come all!

Characters: ALL THE PEOPLE
Open? Yes.
Where: The Palace
When: The night of the 3RD
What: A masquerade ball and a very deep sleep.
Warnings: Part of a comm-wide plot!

The Prince Sif has felled an unknown beast, and presented its stuffed head to the King. This would be reason enough for a ball, but there are victories to celebrate. More heroes arrive every day. The kingdom was aptly defended when the forest wall fell. No one has tried to assassinate the king in several days.

All told, a good night for a party. The theme of the ball is a masquerade, and shops in town have been surprisingly (almost suspiciously) able to provide gowns and masks in ready supply.

The palace has been opened to heroes and townspeople alike, provided they can present themselves appropriately. The heroes have been strongly encouraged to attend, and those who do not come voluntarily may well be greeted with royal retainers at their doorstep, outfit and dance card in hand. Expect a very full dance card, heroes.

The banquet table is stacked full of food – roasts and cheeses, summer fruits and vegetables, rivers of wine and more ornate desserts than should be permitted in a time or war. This evening is about success – best to enjoy it.

In the center of the ball sits the beast’s head. A scaly, purple thing. Its eyes have been taken out and replaced with rubies, its mouth twisted in the same sort of anguished look on its face as when Sif killed it. There has never been a beast like this in Schwanheim before – if you like, come closer and take a look. The king is very generous with his gifts.

[ooc: The party is a LIE. Well. No, it isn’t! Enjoy the party. Your characters will be expected to wear full masquerade gear, or they will be shunted aside and dressed properly.

After the attendees go home, they will be plagued with dreams more tangible than they have ever felt. More information here]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She grimaced.

"Only a dozen or so. I went home immediately when I found the stories had started to spread." She shot him a tight smile.

"It's ridiculous, the theories these people come up with." Of course, she didn't tell the story nearly as often as she told people what wasn't the story.

"Good lord. I, um, I know it must have been a fearsome thing, but the stories started to spread that quickly?"

Recognition of any sort for slaying monsters is something Giles is unfamiliar with...positive recognition, at least...but that, coupled with this entire affair, seems especially excessive. At her next words, though, Giles grimaces in sympathy. "That much I, I-I certainly believe. Heard a few myself. Got any favorites, then?"

"Someone asked me if it was true I was a man pretending to be a woman pretending to be a man." She laughed. "I had to ask why she thought I would bother."

Rupert Giles is, by conventional and most unconventional standards, a very clever man. Even so, that particular twist of logic seems to have him stumped, as he tries to puzzle out the loop of 'man pretending to be a woman pretending to be a man.' Wouldn't you just loop back around?

"I...didn't actually know you were pretending on any level, actually." Then he shakes his head, dislodging the stray thoughts. "Um, s-sorry. That's, th-that's not actually my concern in the slightest."

She shakes her head. It doesn't really bother her.

"Were I'm from, only men are allowed to train to be knights. That's probably where they got the idea."

"Difference in perspectives, I suppose. Where I'm from, the, um, the world would have been destroyed eleven and a half times over if it weren't for a chosen few girls. And, um, eventually an army of them."

And a couple of guys. Giles would never discount Xander's efforts, but he is attempting to make a point here.

"As for your world, well, i-it sounds as though you should be fitting right in, here."

"Tell that to King Jonathan," she suggested wryly, "perhaps he'll push through the change I've been suggesting." It would take time, no matter how they tried.

"Though this place is friendly enough."

"Friendly. Yes." Giles' expression is clear enough what he thinks of that. "Excessively so. I, um, I suppose it's only to be expected, though, given the nature of the situation we've, um, w-we've found ourselves in."

"What can you expect in a situation like this?" She sighs.

"I can't say it's ever come up before."

"It has with me, believe it or not. Um, once, i-in the past. And in that instance, our...'hosts' were a good deal less friendly about it than the people of Schwanheim have proven so far. They, um, often didn't bother even pretending to ask, either."

"And did they return you home, when you did as they asked?" Because Alanna has been wondering about that, very hard.

"Oh, some of us did return home. But, um, we never knew when, or how, o-or why. They claimed that, um, returning us home was their goal, and that, th-that they were just as much prisoners of the place as we were. But...well, I was returned home myself, and not by their will, so I suppose I'll never know."

She just frowns. That doesn't bode entirely well for their own situation.

"How do you think all this will end?"

Giles sighs, sounding very tired and very old. It's a question he's turned over and over and over again in his mind these past few days, and he wishes he hadn't, because the possibilities he keeps coming up with aren't always nice.

"At the moment? Well, I'm, I'm confident it will end, and I'm even marginalyl more confident that it will end with the destruction of the thorns and, and the majority of our survival. Beyond that? I don't know. They, um, they might very well decide that they like having heroes around."

She sighs as well, feeling a great deal older than she is, and she isn't particularly young anymore.

"The thought's crossed my mind as well."

Giles lowers his voice to a murmur. He knows this isn't the sort of thing to be discussing, at a ball celebrating their triumphs, of all things...but, well, the subject has been raised, and no one's hauling anyone off in chains.

Maybe they're just that confident.

"And what would we be able to do about it?"

For Alanna there isn't a line between okay and taboo when it comes to talking unless she's speaking to the King in front of company. Even then, she has to be reigned in hard and often. Her eyes narrow.

"I'm not sure. I hate to enlist the Gods in anything, but they may be our only hope." If they could even be bothered to help. "If it comes to that."

"Gods? They, um, they must be far more benevolent gods in your world than mine." It's pretty clear that Giles doesn't like the idea, but at the same time he understands, a bit. "But if you think they would help...well, um, if it comes to that, we would certainly need the assistance."

"They can be meddlesome when not wanted," she explains, "and unhelpful when they are wanted." The key thing here is that in Alanna's world, the Gods have a very strong presence. They are everywhere, and they are more a fact of life than a religion.

"My patron Goddess may be willing to help, if it appears that I might not be returned to my own world."

"For heroes...for, um, for proper heroes, I mean...well, um, sometimes the universe does provide. But, um, we'll burn that bridge when we come to it. For now? Our job is to get rid of the thorns, before they overrun this place...and us, as well."

She nodded, quite serious. That was one thing she would not leave undone.

"And it does seem that they intend to, no matter how slowly."

"Precisely. For better or worse, no matter what, um, what we might wish otherwise, we share their fates now. As they survive, so do we, a-and so do our chances for getting home. On that note, um, I suppose I should wish you luck in any future monster-slaying endeavors."

Action: Come one, come all!

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