A ball for the new Emperor

Sarita

(Imperial Dominion): Ezalor says, "Dominion. The Primus has called for an impromptu ball in our grand Alcazar."

(Imperial Dominion): Abhorash says, "The ascension of an Emperor warrants no less than a grand gathering of the family."

(Sarita)

She is an adaptive Human vampire whose posture is regal and erect, lending height to her otherwise slight frame. Her lean build might be that of a young boy if not for the beginnings of feminine curves. Well-toned muscles in her arms and legs keep her from looking overly skinny. Perhaps her most easily noticed feature is her hair, which is a bright coppery gold hue. Left free of any restraint but a circlet, they are long enough to brush past her elbows. Eyebrows of the same shade as her hair arc over eyes of periwinkle blue. The brightness of her hair contrasts sharply with the paleness of her skin, a uniform porcelain shade broken only by a faint smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She walks with the blessing of Iosyne.

(on her right ring finger) : a snarling, panther's head ring

(fitted perfectly to her right wrist) : a helical bracelet of silver and gold

(nestled into her coppery curls) : a crown of bejeweled wildflowers

(around the neck) : a golden locket of the earth

(peeking out from underneath her gown) : emerald slippers decorated with black lace

(modestly covering her body) : a pearl-accented gown of emerald velvet

Hvitur inclines his head politely to you.

You incline your head politely to Hvitur.

(Hvitur)

He is a powerful Azudim, standing just over seven feet in height, his figure is somewhere between slim and athletic with broad shoulders. His face is a bit boyish, making his age somewhat of a mystery at first glance. His skin is soft and slightly tanned in hue, appearing to be pulled tight without any flaws or wrinkles. High cheek bones and an aristocratic nose set the scene for his eyes. Filled with a look of wisdom that is deep and dark, honey brown orbs glance out knowingly, yet with a sense of curiousity as he constantly studies his surroundings. He has a small mouth which is usually kept closed, sitting just above a strong and slightly squared chin. Tucked neatly behind him are a large pair of sleek black wings, their fluffy soft feathers appearing to be those of a raven or crow. He walks with the blessing of Iosyne.

(worn on the legs) : a pair of gentlemen's black trousers

(covering the torso) : a simple white shirt

(worn on the feet) : a polished pair of black leather dress shoes

(hanging from the shoulders) : a flowing black cloak of concealment

Hvitur Bahir'an says, "Greetings, Khalifa."

You have emoted: "And you as well," Sarita says faintly, a hint of shakiness in her voice.

Glancing at you curiously, Hvitur Bahir'an says, "Are you quite alright?"

You say, "I had hoped for some time to discover more about the events surrounding all this before being involved in any manner, but...It cannot be helped, can it?"

The ghost of a wicked grin crossing his lips, Hvitur Bahir'an says to you, "It would seem that the future does not wait."

You have emoted: Sarita glances at the retreating backs of the others before turning back to Hvitur, visibly steadying herself before asking, "Shall we?"

Hvitur Bahir'an says to you, "Please, Khalifa... after you."

A tremendous ballroom.

There are 2 monolith sigils here. A formal black and crystal chandelier hangs from the lofty ceiling, its crystal facets capturing the candlelight dazzlingly. An imperious hemic savant is here, leaning upon her scythe. Alexina Ve'kahi is here. She wields an ice-glazed adamant shield in her right hand. Catty is here, coughing softly. Emperor Ezalor D'baen, the Bloodletter is here. Empress Faith D'baen is here, hidden. She wields a cane of the quickening in her left hand. The ballroom is awash in romantic candlelight from the suspended chandelier.

You see exits leading northeast, southeast, southwest, and northwest.

Hvitur inclines his head politely to those around him.

Empress Faith D'baen says, "Greetings, childe."

A cloaked figure blinks vacantly, staring at nothing in particular. (That's Ilyon, for future reference)

You have emoted: Sarita dips into a brief, respectful curtsey before saying to Ezalor, "Congratulations are more than due."

Abhorash arrives from the southwest.

(Abhorash)

He is a powerful Tekal vampire unabashedly displaying the arrogance of practiced nobility, his thin lips twisted into a perpetual sneer at nearly all times. His face is sharply defined and angular, and his narrow eyes a startlingly ice-blue in hue. His form is graceful and powerful, his palpable aura restrained with finesse and flair. His skin is pale, trademark of the Consanguine, and slightly sunken eyes are all that detract from a visage that is utterly perfectly attractive. His blond hair is cropped short, immaculately kept and clean, and swept back from his face. He walks with the blessing of Iosyne.

(over the torso) : a blood-red military jacket

(worn on the legs) : a pair of red formal trousers

(worn on the feet) : polished wingtip shoes

Damonicus enters from the southwest following Cordia.

Telenvor arrives from the southwest.

Cordia inclines her head politely to those around her.

Alexina ceases to wield an ice-glazed adamant shield in her right hand.

(Ezalor)

He is a typical Azudim vampire and stands tall, with broad shoulders and a well-defined frame. His arms are tempered and hard, hands large and calloused, and a pair of mighty legs lends his stance an aura of firmness and power. Tousled and thick, his pitch-black locks part down the middle, a few errant strands hanging down towards his startlingly brilliant blue, almost glowing eyes. Each wave of hair settles just shy of obscuring a pair of rounded ears, while lengthening in the back to end at the base of his neck. An ordinarily shaped nose sits above a pair of pale red lips; though his lips lack the vibrant colour one can see in his eyes, the crimson and blue still paints a stark contrast to the whiteness of his clean-shaven skin. Twin arcs of midnight black erupts from his back; skeletal wings of massive proportions hanging down in jagged stages towards the ground. Their massive structure of sinew and bone belie the strength contained within them. Streaks of crimson blood spatter his face. He walks with the blessing of Iosyne.

(branded into his neck) : a black-inked tattoo of a pair of crossed fists

(worn on a finger) : a Bloodloch Keeper ring

(covering the body) : a blackened suit of Iosai exoskeleton scalemail

(covering the torso) : a pearl white dress shirt

(worn on the feet) : a polished pair of black leather dress shoes

(worn on the legs) : a crisp pair of black dress pants

(around the neck) : a red crystal amulet

(worn on head) : an entwined silver crown

(worn on a finger) : the blackened ring of the Bloodletter

(worn on the hands) : ruby-studded falcon's head knuckles

(around one wrist) : Celestine bracers of devastation

(worn) : a black, blood-streaked Iosai shield

(around the neck) : a necklace of purity

(worn on a finger) : a moonlit iceberg ring

(Faith)

She is a typical Atavian vampire and is blessed with rich, lustrous curls of a golden red hue which frame the delicate features of this lovely young woman before you. Her bone structure is refined and her skin tone is a rich creamy shade which compliments nicely with her high slanted cheekbones, full pouty lips which seem perpetually curved into a slyly sensual smile, and slightly uptilted eyes, framed with thick lashes tipped with gold. Her eyes indeed are perhaps her most striking feature, a gorgeous shade of emerald green, deepening or lightening depending on her mood, but most often appearing as lambent pools sparkling with good humor. She moves with an elegance that is entirely inborn, the sway of hip, the way she walks, even the way she holds herself is a graceful symphony of motion that is designed to delight the senses and draw eyes to the lovely figure and gentle curves that nature has been so generous to bestow upon her. Two large wings of soft, moonlit-touched silver rise up from behind her back, completing the picture of grace and beauty. She walks with the blessing of Iosyne.

(covering the body) : a refined jade and emerald silken gown

(worn on the feet) : jet black silk and onyx heeled slippers

(perched on the ear) : a clinging spider earring

(around the neck) : a necklace of purity

Salmissra appears next to Abhorash, a startled look on her face.

Princess Salmissra Nebre'seir says in an exotic tone, "Should I strip down a bit?"

Salmissra murmurs softly to herself.

Cordia blinks.

Catty blinks.

A cloaked figure smiles wryly.

Princess Salmissra Nebre'seir says in an exotic tone, "I suppose I won't change clothes then."

Cordia clasps her hands back in behind her back, keeping nearby to Damonicus.

You see the following people here:

A cloaked figure, Abhorash, Damonicus, Salmissra, Alexina, Catty, Telenvor, Hvitur, Ezalor, Sarita, Faith, Cordia

Hvitur nods his head sagely.

(House Bahir'an): Hvitur says, "Too long has it been, Khalifa."

Abhorash starts to wield a wine glass in his left hand.

Abhorash drinks from a wine glass of blood.

Abhorash instantly vomits it back up.

You have emoted: Sarita turns slightly, almost hesitantly towards Abhorash, acknowledging the arrival with a quiet, "Good evening, grandsire."

A cloaked figure smiles wryly.

Ezalor stands next to Faith, chest high, chin proud. "Welcome, welcome," he proclaims, voice carrying all throughout the enormous ballroom. "A joyous occassion; the Blood gains an Emperor, and an Empress returns from slumber." He turns to regard Abhorash, a faint, comfortable smile gracing the Praetor's lips. "Shall we offer you the first dance, Sire? I am sure none here would deny it."

Abhorash gives a wine glass a dubious glance.

Primus Abhorash Nehekhara says, "Foul."

Princess Salmissra Nebre'seir says in an exotic tone, "Would you prefer something a bit..fresher, Primus?"

Alexina tilts her head slightly, her gaze sweeping across the gathered crowd.

Abhorash holds the wine glass at arm's length, disgust writ clear on his features. "No, I think I'll find that slave in a bit." At Ezalor's query, he gives Faith a sidelong glance. "Perhaps."

Abhorash ceases to wield a wine glass in his left hand.

Abhorash gives a wine glass to Cordia.

Faith wrinkles her nose at her father, "Just make sure she is recovered enough, Father. Remember slaves are a renewable resource." This has the sound of a long-standing argument recently rejoined after several centuries.

Noting where Abhorash's eyes fall, Ezalor slumps dejectedly, the defeated stance very much at odds with the laughter that escapes him. "And here I was hoping I would be the lucky chosen one." The Praetor takes a step away from Faith, removing himself from the path between Faith and Abhorash.

His hands thus freed, Abhorash beckons Faith closer to himself, opening up his stance to permit her free-flowing gown.

Damonicus grins at Ezalor as he watches the assembled crowd. He raises his cane into the air as a salute as he cheers out, "For the Blood, for Bloodloch."

Tyrak suddenly appears, having travelled down the beam of prismatic light.

Faith stifles an annoyed sigh before she moves toward her father, offering the alabaster column of her neck so he take a sip of such an excellent bouquet.

Catty lets her gaze move from Ezalor over to Faith and Abhorash. Instantly her attention turns to Damonicus as she gives him a slight grin.

Whether by her will or his, Faith joins Abhorash arm to arm in a formal dance position. Stepping to the sound of orchestrated music issuing from elsewhere, the Primus and the Empress begin a slow, wide-looping step of formal ballroom dance.

Faith allows herself to be drawn into dancing with Abhorash, their bodies moving in sync to the rhythm of the music. Each swap and dip is perfect and it is clear that this is something they have done many times before over the centuries.

Israafiyl enters from the southwest, riding a menacingly-armored stallion.

The ice broken and first dance taken, Ezalor saunters over to you, gracefully extending a hand. "It has been quite a while since our last meeting it seems, Your Imperial Highness," he says mildly. "Would you care to dance?" Abruptly his arm stops its motion short of reaching you, a small flicker of remembrance in his brilliant blue eyes. "Er, if you do dance, that is."

Israafiyl leaves to the southwest, riding a menacingly-armored stallion.

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across the lips of Hvitur as he glances at you.

You have emoted: Sarita looks around once before stepping gracefully towards Ezalor. "It would be an honour, Your Imperial Majesty."

Count Damonicus D'baen says, "If you would all excuse me, I have someone to see to."

Damonicus inclines his head politely to those around him.

Damonicus leaves to the southwest.

The strings rise to a wholly-consuming crescendo, filling the cavernous ballroom with harmonic sound. Individual conversation is muffled, voices no longer carry in the empty air, and a relaxed warmth begins to fill the ballroom.

A cloaked figure says in a harsh, barking language ringing with grim inflections, "Rezhen."

A swirling vortex of flickering ebon light descends in a screaming concentration of power, centering around Tyrak. A piercing cry rings from the center of the maelstrom before the vortex rapidly dissipates, taking Tyrak along with it.

Abhorash leads Faith out of the center of the ballroom, taking the lion's share of the empty north end for their continued sweeps and spins. His poise is hardly affected even as his head dips to murmur something to the Empress.

Ezalor takes you by the hand, leading the pair nearer to the center of the ballroom, though well out of the way of the other moving couple. He extends the hand to the side, his other landing lightly on your waist as he enters a graceful series of basic steps. "Surely more of you know how to dance as well," he calls to the motionless crowd, steps slowing for a moment as he speaks. He returns his attention to his dancing partner, transitioning into a slightly more complex series of steps to the rhythm of the music; slow, gradual, testing.

Athala casts a quick glance about the ballroom and inclines to those about in familiar faces.

Faith quietly replies back to Abhorash as they twirl about the ballroom, the skirts of her dress making a quiet swishing sound that serves to mask her words from those in the immediate vicinity.

You have emoted: Sarita's skirt whispers along the ballroom floor as she takes Ezalor's outstretched hand lightly. The other finds its way a bit more uncertainly to his shoulder. Despite looking tentative, she follows the steps easily, even ask they grow more complex in nature.

A cloaked figure casts an impassive gaze over the floor, his expression twisted into a scowl, but remains otherwise unmoving.

Damonicus takes Athala by the hand to the dance floor, "Shall we, Your Grace?" he asks Athala.

Alexina remains still, folding her arms across her chest. She seems quite content merely watching the two pairs dancing to the music.

A refined consanguine gentleman enters from the southwest.

A slender consanguine woman enters from the southwest.

One arm crossed behind his back, Hvitur extends an upturned hand towards Catty. "May I have this dance then, Your Grace?" he asks cordially, an amused grin painted on his face.

A slender consanguine woman gives a donkey a dirty look.

The donkey, steadily bearing the weight of a cloaked figure, calmly returns the dirty look.

Telenvor stands back and watches the dancers with a slight smile upon his face.

Cordia folds her arms in back behind her back, carefully balancing the wine glass as she observes the dancers.

Catty blinks slightly, giving a slow nod to Hvitur before taking his hand with a smile. "Of course, Your Grace," she murmurs before moving forward with him.

Ezalor's steps eventually bring his pairing closer to the side of the room, each circled pass bringing the couple closer to a cloaked figure. He draws within earshot of the remarkably unremarkable man. "Oh come now, Caliph. Just move like Daskalos is in front of you," he calls out with a ringing laugh. "Well, without your flail too," he adds, averting the potential disaster.

Abhorash circles Faith around with one arm, leading Faith into an elegant twirl to showcase her.

Athala allows her hand to be taken. Joining Damonicus onto the dance floor and awaits proper stances, "It is quite a thing to awake and to a ball." Her voice is low to remain between the two. She leads the first few steps in the direction away from other dancers, starting slow.

You have emoted: Sarita turns her head slightly to catch sight of whatever reaction the cloaked figure may have. Her steps slow just a bit as she glances over, not enough to disturb the flow of the dance, but enough to be noticed with an observant eye.

The pair of refined, but anonymous, Consanguine newly-gathered into the ballroom take up with each other into a joined waltz. They do not appear to be pleased, by any means, and keep their icy glare on the other dancers.

Damonicus steps with Athala away from the crowd as he speaks to her about all the passing events. Breaking his speech every once in awhile to make sure he is moving correctly on the dance floor to avoid embarrassment.

Faith lets herself be twirled around like a ballerina, movements graceful and lovely. She whispers something to her father as her eyes take in the pair of dancers who look anything but pleased to be there.

Bowing his head to Catty, Hvitur leads the couple slightly east, still in the center or the ballroom but out of the way of the other pairs. His eyes locked with her, he begins a slow waltz-like dance.

Hvitur murmurs something softly to Catty.

His expression never losing the scowl, a cloaked figure watches the scene impassively. As the newly appointed Emperor dances by, he casually responds, "I'd rather think not, Consul. Broken arms would be the least of your worries, were I to try." Sweeping the room with one last glance, he turns to leave. "Regrettably, I have business elsewhere. I trust you shall enjoy this occasion," he adds, before turning around and disappearing from sight, his cloak swirling behind him.

Athala remains refined in her gracious twirls as her movements are masked by her cloak. As the conversation carries into the more interesting events she expresses little and listens carefully.

Without much hesitation Catty follows Hvitur's lead, dancing with him easily before giving a slight grin, whispering something back before giving another nod. Turning her head she catches a small glance at the other dances from the raised hood of her cloak before looking back at Hvitur with a smile.

Ezalor blinks at the departure, a look of mock shock on his face. "He moved," he says in a wondrous, yet sarcastic voice. "I am not sure I have ever seen him move before." So caught up in the moment is he that he subconsciously leads you towards the direction of departure, disappearing from sight for an instant.

Catty murmurs something softly to Hvitur.

Hvitur nods his head in agreement.

A slender consanguine woman and the refined consanguine gentlemen she dances with move about in a tight formation, elegant yet still with a measure of pronounced stiffness in their body's movements. Their muttering is faintly audible even over the orchestral melody sweeping throughout the ballroom, and you are able to catch the faint mention of the words 'Imperium', and 'Primus'.

Ezalor murmurs to you, "How are things in Bahir'an, Your Imperial Highness?"

You have emoted: Sarita looks taken off guard by the sudden movement, but she is able to catch herself swiftly with a quick step closely to Ezalor just before the next turn. She leans her head in closer to hear the murmur over the music and the sounds of the other dancers and Consanguine in attendance.

Cordia sips from a wine glass of blood.

You murmur to Ezalor, "Well enough, though I imagine not quite as exciting as things in your own House this past month."

His gaze catching on the Consanguine pair for a split second, Hvitur loses his focus on the dance with Catty, stepping on her foot. Bowing his head in embarassment, he hurriedly mumbles something under his breath that can only be imagined as apologies.

A slender consanguine woman suppresses a smirk.

Abhorash draws Faith back into his regal form effortlessly, leading the Empress on a slow back-and-forth sway as the music takes a turn for the quiet.

Faith whispers something quietly to her father, as she keeps watch on the Consanguine couple before allowing Abhorash to draw her forward into the strains of a slower dance.

Athala steps closer to Damonicus as the music slows, the disappointed expression is not hard to miss as the conversation continues.

Cordia walks over to stand next to Telenvor, leaning in to murmur something to him.

Cordia murmurs something softly to Telenvor.

Damonicus notices he has stopped dancing with Athala as he was speaking, slowly just nodding and taking a few steps back off the floor.

Telenvor murmurs something softly to Cordia.

Cordia nods her head at Telenvor.

As the music stalls for a moment, the pair of refined Consanguine find themselves at a standstill. They quit the dance floor just as the next musical number begins to pick up, an elegant symphony of restrained cello harmony prefacing a lilting melody of harp strings being pulled.

A slender consanguine woman leaves to the southwest.

A refined consanguine gentleman leaves to the southwest.

Unable to hide her own grin Catty moves her foot she slowly takes the lead, making Hvitur follow her steps as the music slows down. Leaning in she quietly whispers something to Hvitur before pulling back to offer a smile.

You murmur to Ezalor, "When this is over, I hoped that you and I might speak in private."

With one arm behind his back, Abhorash bends at the waist to Faith in the manner of formal dance, lifting her hand as he does so.

As the music slows, so too do Ezalor's steps. His eyes drift to follow the retreating Consanguine pair, a considering look upon his face. As the music picks up again, the Praetor resumes the dance with renewed fervour, his gaze returning to you; a momentary tightening of the hand clasping yours is all the warning you receives before the large man spends you spinning in a graceful twirl before catching you at the waist once more.

Athala follows Damonicus off the dance floor to the side as the conversation intensifies. Little words can be heard slipping out with different tone than the woman usually carries such as, "Discipline." Her attention is caught by the Primus at the center of the dance floor in a regal bow and smiles. "We ought to get you dance lessons, Lord Damonicus." She muses as the subjects change between the two.

Ezalor murmurs to you, "Of course."

Shaking his head as Catty whispers to him, Hvitur leans in and whispers a quiet response, bowing low before taking a step away.

Hvitur murmurs something softly to Catty.

Faith allows her hand to be lifted upward, curtsying as she does so in acknowledgement of the end of the dance. She whispers something to her father, before heading over toward Ezalor.

Catty nods her head at Hvitur.

Cordia carefully clasps her hands behind her back, wine glass still in hand.

Noticing the approaching figure, Ezalor brings the dance to a smooth end, leaning in close to your ear. "Thank you for the dance, Your Imperial Highness," he says softly, retreating once more to bow his head respectfully as his hands fall back to his sides.

Catty moves slowly to give Hvitur a formal curtsey, after a moment she takes a step back from Hvitur to step back into the crowd, standing beside Cordia as she now watches the three couples on the dance floor.

Cordia smiles at Catty.

Catty smiles at Cordia.

Faith nods her head toward Ezalor as she says, "I just wanted to excuse myself as I'm feeling a bit tired still. I will speak with you when I next rise." With that said, she smiles in farewell to everyone in attendance before sweeping out of the ballroom in a swirl of silk and shadow.

You have emoted: Sarita's hair and gown flair out as she spins, then fall gracefully back into place. She smoothes them down all the same, moving away quietly with little more than a small curtsey to Ezalor.

Catty murmurs something softly to Cordia.

Ezalor nods his head at Faith.

Hvitur inclines his head politely to Faith.

Damonicus nods at Athala as he lowers his head to her, "Understood." says to Athala slowly as he grins upon the next comment, "Yes, lessons are much needed. Your Grace."

Emperor Ezalor D'baen, the Bloodletter says, "A pleasure, Your Imperial Majesty. Rest well."

Cordia seems to think for a moment before nodding slowly at Catty.

Hvitur Bahir'an says to Emperor Ezalor D'baen, the Bloodletter, "Congratulations to you, as well, Your Imperial Majesty. It is good to be in the presence of so many who share the Gift."

Telenvor bows respectfully to Faith.

Cordia inclines her head politely to Faith.

Faith leaves to the southwest.

Freed of a dance partner, Abhorash weaves smoothly through the remaining pairs on the dance floor, eventually approaching Cordia and extending a hand for the wine glass she had been so expertly holding onto.

Cordia holds the hand out to Abhorash, handing the wine glass back over with a respectful incline of her head.

The wine glass is pardoned of its earlier crimes, and merely set down on one of innumerous chairs flanking the corners of the room. Abhorash extends his hand regally once again to Cordia in offering.

Catty smiles at Cordia.

Catty takes a small step away from Cordia, the smile on her face never fading as she shifts to stand by Alexina instead.

Ezalor moves towards Alexina, a hand curiously held to his cheek as he bares his teeth in a broad smile. "How have things been, Ve'kahi?"

Cordia smiles, placing her hand within Abhorash's without any hesitation. She glances back at Catty from the corner of her eye before letting her gaze focus on Abhorash.

Telenvor smiles at Cordia.

Alexina bites down on her lower lip, chewing on it in a thoughtful manner. "Things are what they are," she replies, offering Ezalor a quick smile, "Ahh. I believe congratulations are in order. Well done on your.. uhh.. promotion."

Hvitur's eyes twinkle enchantingly.

You have emoted: Seeing Ezalor occupied for a moment, Sarita meanders towards a nearby chair, and seats herself gracefully. Looking up at over at those still dancing, she tucks her hands together neatly in her lap.

Catty coughs slightly as she hears Ezalor and Alexina shifting slightly to stand next to Telenvor with a grin.

Abhorash draws Cordia onto the dance floor, her diminutiveness dwarfed next to the powerful vampire himself. He swiftly leads her into a swirling set of dance movements, flawlessly executed.

A descending series of harp notes heralds a swift change in tempo to the ballroom's music, its pace quickening into a more dizzying one.

Following you, Hvitur takes a seat next to you, leaning over and quietly saying something as he watches those on the dance floor.

Damonicus slowly draws Athala closer to the crowd of D'baen as he inclines his head. "Your Graces."

Hvitur murmurs to you, "I am suddenly concerned with something, Khalifa. Please remind me to ask about it once this has concluded."

Catty smiles at Damonicus.

Athala was about to step away from Damonicus to head in your direction but allows herself to be drawn in another direction, knowing that the Lord means well.

Cordia rests her free hand on Abhorash's shoulder, following each of the swirling movements with perfect execution - her size not keeping her from being able to deftly dance elegantly across the floor.

"They are what they are," Ezalor echoes, looking the tall woman eye-to-eye. "May I have the honour of a dance?" He asks, extending a hand.

Alexina scratches her chin lightly, her eyes narrowing as she peers at Ezalor in an almost scrutinizing manner; indeed, her keen gaze sweeps over his figure, moving from top to toes and then back up again. There is a drawn-out moment of silence before she inclines her head in a polite nod. "You may," she graciously allows, accepting Ezalor's extended hand.

With deliberate gestures, Damonicus cups the air around him and pushes gently until a reddish haze can be seen floating about his form.

You have emoted: Sarita inclines her head slightly towards Hvitur so that she can reply without moving her eyes from the dance floor.

Damonicus makes a guttural noise, and you see a crimson haze begin to spin wildly around his frame.

Damonicus motions to his wisp and Neron appears suddenly in your location, looking disoriented.

"So pleased I meet your standards," Ezalor remarks smoothly, drawing the tall woman into him as his other hand settles around Alexina's waist. "You will have to lead, I only know that one dance," he says coyly, turning to wink at you.

Damonicus inclines his head politely to Neron.

You murmur to Hvitur, "If I remember myself, certainly."

Telenvor inclines his head politely to Neron.

Count Damonicus D'baen smiles and says to Duke Neron D'baen, "Greetings, Sire."

The fluid familiarity Abhorash shared with the Empress earlier is not as present now, and the Primus appears to be visibly preoccupied with pointed glances to the southwestern corner of the ballroom. Still, he leads Cordia over the dance floor with the practice of centuries in every step.

Standing from his seat beside you, Hvitur offers you a slight nod of his head, before moving to the southern end of the ballroom to lean his back against a wall. Arms folded in front of him, his gaze sweeps slowly over the room, catching briefly on you before moving on.

Catty shifts her gaze to Hvitur's, letting her eyes meet his for a moment while tilting her head to the side, idle curiosity filling them as she makes her way over to where he stands.

Cordia's gaze follows Abhorash's for a moment before returning her eyes to staring up at the Primus. She does not lose focus even though some strands of her hair come falling into her face from the movements.

Was that an irritated expression flashing over Alexina's features? It almost looked as if her lips pressed together, her nose wrinkling, and her shoulders tensing. The impression lasted for but a single moment before she smiled amiably at Ezalor, taking the lead as the Emperor had requested. "I am not really good at dancing," she admits, still smiling.

Catty murmurs something softly to Hvitur.

Count Damonicus D'baen says, "If you would all excuse me, it is time for me to depart."

Damonicus inclines his head politely to those around him.

You have emoted: Sarita shifts back in her seat very slightly, relaxing her previously rigid posture as she self-consciously makes a few minute adjustments to the hair that was mussed at the end of her dance with Ezalor.

Abhorash takes his dancer partner on a sweeping tour of the ballroom, circling the other dancers until both he and Cordia are closer to the southwest side. Abruptly, he releases her, offering only a curt nod as he swiftly exits.

"You just simply relax and let your body move how it wants to the music," Ezalor fibs, eyes alight with excitement at where this advice leads to. He pointedly refuses to take any sort of lead, following Alexina step-for-step.

Cordia blinks a few times at the sudden release of the dance. Reaching up, she fixes her hair back into place and turns around to watch the still dancing couples.

Inclining his head towards Catty as she approaches, his posture not changing Hvitur nods his head slowly, leaning closer to whisper something to her as he continues to gaze out at the dance floor. Though his words are hushed, the name "Zsarachnor" can be clearly made out.

Hvitur murmurs something softly to Catty.

Telenvor says, "It was a pleasure to be here for this, please excuse me for I must take my leave now.", inclining his head politely to all in attendance.

Cordia glancing about, she respectfully inclines her head to those remaining and silently exits the ballroom.

Cordia leaves to the southwest.

Catty moves slightly, standing right beside Hvitur so she can keep rather quiet as she responds, her eyes dark as she looks around at those in the room briefly to see who noticed.

Catty murmurs something softly to Hvitur.

Hvitur nods his head at Catty sagely.

Catty nods her head at Hvitur.

The booming voice of the Primus carries in from the southwest, "...As long as we have an understanding."

Although moving with grace and elegance, Alexina keeps the steps simple, her face taking on a very focused look. After a while, she appears more relaxed, her attention shifting from the movements of the dance to her partner instead. Her gaze eventually settles on Ezalor's face, searching the depths of his eyes. "So. D'baen. It is a pleasure to see you again. Things have been going well, I assume?"

You have emoted: Sarita glances lazily but curiously in the direction of Abhorash's voice. She shifts in her chair to try and get a slightly better view of that portion of the ballroom.

You glance towards the southwest.

Southwestern corner of the ballroom.

A pale black-eyed child lingers here, swaying listlessly on her feet. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Examining the surroundings with a perpetual sneer, a callous Praenomen vampire slouches here. Her posture hunched uncomfortably, a shawl-draped scion of despair resides here. A slender consanguine woman lingers here, engaged in conversation. A refined consanguine gentleman is engaged in conversation here. Primus Abhorash Nehekhara is here. The ballroom is awash in romantic candlelight from the suspended chandelier.

You see exits leading north, northeast, east, southwest, and west.

His posture tensing visibly, Hvitur's eyes shift to the southwest suddenly, his attention pulled away from Catty for a moment.

"You could say that," Ezalor says with clearly fake modesty, showing Alexina a dazzling smile. At Abhorash's booming voice, the large man pauses abruptly, unintentionally swinging Alexina into his body. He hardly notices, eyes tracing to the source of the sound.

(Imperial Dominion): Abhorash says, "I take my rest of the event. In strength, Dominion."

(Imperial Dominion): Cordia says, "Strength in the Blood, Primus."

(Imperial Dominion): Hvitur says, "Thank you for organizing this ball, Primus. It is not without your Gift that we would be here. Strength."

Hvitur murmurs something softly to Catty.

Hvitur inclines his head politely to those around him.

Catty nods her head at Hvitur.

Alexina pulls away from Ezalor, her slender body dipping down into a well-practiced curtsey. "D'baen," she says, offering Ezalor her sweetest smile, "I suppose our dance is over. Thank you."

Ezalor dips into a bow as well, bringing Alexina's hand up to plant a gentle kiss on the back of it. "The pleasure was all mine," he says. Releasing the hand, the vampire walks over to resume a position next to you. "Did you wish to hold that meeting now?"

Softly, Arch Duchess Catty D'baen says, "Excuse me."

Quietly, you say, "Only if you are ready to take your leave of your guests."

Wryly, Emperor Ezalor D'baen, the Bloodletter says, "They seem to have by and large taken their leave already."

Alexina quietly slips out of the room.

Catty leaves to the southwest.

You have emoted: Sarita glances towards the few remaining people before turning her eyes back towards Ezalor. "There is space in the Bahir'an Estate, unless you have another place that you prefer."

Ezalor ponders the situation.

Ezalor inclines his head politely to those around him.

(This part is included because stuff like this around the Alcazar is awesome.)

You follow Ezalor to the southwest.

Southwestern corner of the ballroom.

A pale black-eyed child lingers here, swaying listlessly on her feet. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Examining the surroundings with a perpetual sneer, a callous Praenomen vampire slouches here. Her posture hunched uncomfortably, a shawl-draped scion of despair resides here. A slender consanguine woman lingers here, engaged in conversation. A refined consanguine gentleman is engaged in conversation here. The ballroom is awash in romantic candlelight from the suspended chandelier.

You see exits leading north, northeast, east, southwest, and west.

Ezalor greets Svara, a black-eyed child with a sincere smile.

Svara, a black-eyed child interrupts her play to cast a long look at Ezalor, tilting her head upward and remaining completely still.

Svara, a black-eyed child says, "Do you need help?"

Emperor Ezalor D'baen, the Bloodletter says, "What do you do?"

Svara, a black-eyed child says, "I help. I will arrange the ballroom."

Emperor Ezalor D'baen, the Bloodletter says, "Darken the chandelier."

Svara, a black-eyed child turns her gaze to the chandelier in the center of the ballroom and squints her eyes for a moment. Each candle is quickly extinguished, and the ballroom goes dark.

Emperor Ezalor D'baen, the Bloodletter says, "Close up the ballroom."

Slowly, the heavy red curtains advance to drape over large swaths of the floor, enclosing the middle-most section of the ballroom into a more intimate space.

Svara, a black-eyed child says, "Is there anything else?"

Emperor Ezalor D'baen, the Bloodletter says, "That's all for now."

Infin

That was awesome