Gathering: Masquerade Ball

[concierge]

A large sign placed prominently in the Nexus lobby reads:

The Nexus Hotel
proudly presents the
MARDI GRAS MASQUERADE BALL

Event Location
Nexus Dining Hall
8 PM - 2 AM

Masquerade dress recommended, but not required for all guests

The Dining Hall's central table and chairs had been removed to create a dance floor wide enough to accommodate fanciful masquerade costumes. On one end had been placed a long bar providing free drinks, and on the other a small chamber orchestra providing the music for dancing. The entire room was bedecked in gold bunting and twinkling candlelight, and masks were available for those guests who hadn't brought their own.

Comments

[praiseandglory]

Masques weren't exactly Porthos's usual scene. He was much more at ease in raucous taverns than anywhere courtly. But of course he'd attended his fair share, although never as anything but a Musketeer. That was how he showed up that night, dressed in full Musketeer regalia, pauldron on his shoulder, sword at his hip, and blue cloak across his shoulders - but no hat. He had found a mask that matched his cloak in the ones provided for the guests, and as soon as he had secured a glass of wine, he looked around for his friends.

[armedagainstlove]

It so happens that masques are one of Athos' favoured things in that he despises them, but the liquor is always freely flowing on these evenings. It's not difficult to find Porthos in such a din, but perhaps it might be a touch problematic in that he's beyond the usual level of tipsiness that he maintains. He manages not to stumble as he finds Porthos (Athos is sans masque, given that he does not believe in such things), but does not find that problematic.

"You're easy to spot, despite the mask," he informs Porthos. "It suits your cloak, however."

[praiseandglory]

"Um," comes the noise of surprise at the fact that Athos would be remarking on what Porthos was wearing. "Thank you," he adds with an amused frown and a confused half-smile. Not that confused; it's easy to lay the blame for that at the feet of the culprit, the very beverage contained in the glass Porthos is bringing to his own lips. "You've partaken of the wine."

What he means is: a lot, as is Athos's custom.

[armedagainstlove]

Athos raises his brow in response, given that he imagines it would be more of a shock had he not. He is still standing and for the most part is still steady, so he sees no reason as to why he shouldn't be partaking. "Yes," he finally agrees, and quite a lot of it, to his great delight. "Not the best I've ever had, but far more suitable than some in Paris," he says with slow consideration.

[praiseandglory]

"By far," Porthos agrees. He doesn't have the finest palate in the capital, not by a long shot, but he's drunk enough poor wine to know that much. Anyone with an actual palate would. "And you're without a mask."

[armedagainstlove]

Athos nods once more, settling his stance comfortably with the bottle of wine he's procured. "They greatly encouraged me to take one." Athos, for his part, had merely looked upon them with the implication that he will greatly do nothing about that and had continued on to the party. "I didn't realize it was necessary."

[praiseandglory]

"They seem to've taken the idea of masques pretty literally," Porthos confirms, a little wryly, but he isn't bothered. He's found one that matches his cloak, so he is in fact a happy Musketeer.

[armedagainstlove]

"Yes, it does seem to be a rather fitting name for the event," Athos says, trying not to think about the masques he had attended in his younger days, when he had been a Comte with a future. Even those years, those happy years with Anne, he had not realized that she had been wearing a mask the whole time. He's come to loathe them, now, and is unsettled, somewhat, to see so many around him.

"I'm only here for more wine," he confesses, "before I mean to depart again."

[praiseandglory]

"To your room, or back to Paris?" Porthos asks conversationally, and reaches for a nearby bottle to pour himself more wine, after he is done with his glass. Athos had mentioned coming and going as he pleases, after all, and Porthos is never sure whether he's around or not, but they run into each other often enough.

He really misses Aramis, though.

[armedagainstlove]

"In this particular case, back to my room," he answers, given that if he returns to Paris, there will be the inconvenient aspect in which he will be expected to report for duty. While working with a hangover is nothing new to Athos, it's still something he would prefer to avoid. "I find four bottles of wine do the trick nicely in sliding one day into the next. The beds here aid in that."

[praiseandglory]

"I think I'm getting used to them," Porthos confesses. They're nothing like those at the garrison, and he isn't sure whether it's a good or a bad thing. They're comfortable, of course, but getting used to them means that his return to the garrison will feel very uncomfortable. "Come, let's claim a table and drink together," he adds, fully intending to take the bottle of wine in his hand with them. That way, Athos can keep his own.

[armedagainstlove]

In this, Porthos has the good sense to appeal to both of Athos' favourite things -- solitude and alcohol. He acquiesces with a nod of his head and wanders over towards the first table he sees, avoiding several dancers in the meantime. He dislikes the airs of the party, so reminded of the ones when he was a Comte and it sets him to scowling even further, if such a thing is possible.

"You shouldn't allow me to keep you from enjoying yourself," he says. "Dancing?" he points out.

[praiseandglory]

"This will come as a shock," Porthos predicts, only half joking, "but I actually happen to enjoy your company, Athos." He didn't just stick with him for the crazy adventures. He leans back in his chair and takes a very healthy drink from his glass. "Besides, that's hardly my kind of dancing."

[the_dawnster]

Porthos is here at the masque and so is Dawn. She isn't going to presume that he remembers some random girl he'd met outside close to the gardens. But she remembers him in all of his uniqueness. It isn't everyday that she runs across someone of time and manner like Porthos is.

She sidles up beside him and just stands there for a bit, mask in place with her hair pulled into a side braid. She has a pretty dress on and killer shoes that will probably come off eventually because what are heels.

"Well don't you look spiffy." She says. Full Musketeer regalia? Yes, spiffy.

[praiseandglory]

It takes Porthos a minute to place the voice and what he can see of the face behind the mask, after he's done wondering what spiffy might mean. That helps, actually; the young woman had been particularly difficult to understand at times.

"Mademoiselle Dawn," he greets her with a smile, and a half bow, once he recognises her. "I hope spiffy's a good thing."

[the_dawnster]

"Spiffy is a more copacetic way of saying you look hot." She says blatantly with a nod. "So yeah, spiffy is good."

She can't help the large smile that creeps onto her lips as he uses the title 'mademoiselle'. It just makes her much happier than it should. Really, Dawn was generally a pretty easily amused individual. It didn't take much. And Porthos calling her 'Mademoiselle Dawn' was just one of those things she would probably never get over.

"Settling in okay? How've you been?" She asks.

[praiseandglory]

Porthos is still confused by her earlier 'explanation', so he assures her, "Not hot, or not overly so, anyway."

He doesn't need the cloak inside, so maybe that's what she means, but he really is doing just fine for now.

[the_dawnster]

"Okay, if you say so." She answers with a amused and playful tone and a shrug of her shoulders. He clearly didn't get her word vomit and she's kind of glad for that. It's less embarrassing that way.

"So really... how've you been?" She asks him again.

[praiseandglory]

Porthos fingers the collar of his jacket, as if trying to gauge whether he should be feeling hot. "Missing Paris a bit, I suppose." And Aramis, of course, but at least two of his friends were there. That was better by far than none of them being around. "But at least there's some adventure to be had on the other side of some of these doors."

[the_dawnster]

"I would be missing Paris too. The shops alone. Plus I hear they have really good desserts. I don't know where I heard that." She ponders that for just a few moments.

Then she looks sideways at him, curious and excited. "What doors have you been through? Some of them are pretty cool. But others are only cool in theory. I thought the dinosaurs would be fun but that turned very Jurassic Park super fast."

[praiseandglory]

Porthos stares at her for a few seconds, brow knitted. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way," he tells her, almost tentative, because he really doesn't want to offend her, "but half the time I've no idea what you're going on about."

The other half - well, he supposed that some of the merchants in Paris did have a reputation. And the food was amazing, desserts included.

[the_dawnster]

She gives Porthos a partly apologetic look, one shoulder lifting in a half shrug. "I don't doubt it. Sometimes even people who aren't from lots of centuries past have no clue what I'm saying." Another shrug before she looks down to the floor. "It's okay."

[praiseandglory]

And now she's looking down, in every sense of the word, and Porthos feels terrible. "Perhaps you could tell me more of your world?" he offers, hoping to make it better. "The more I know, the more I'll understand, I'm sure."

[the_dawnster]

"Oh! Well... yeah I could do that. It's kind of on the crazy side of things but, in the name of understanding." She looks over to him, her eyes wide and bright again. Honestly, Dawn goes through moods like a baker goes through a sack of flour. But the good thing is that she's very easily readable. She wears her emotions on her sleeve, so to speak.

"So I'm from California. And I do the college thing at Berkeley with a major in language studies with a focus on Sumerian, Latin and Turkish and a minor in English Literature." She smiles a bit. "I like books. Old books. New books. Just books."

She pauses, trying to decide how much to say without breaking Porthos's brain. "In my world there are all kinds of monster creature features... and my sister is like... a super hero. She keeps the world safe from the monsters. I help her with research and translations and sometimes do some fighting myself when she's too busy to tell me no."

[praiseandglory]

That is a lot of information, not all of which Porthos understands, for all that it's obvious she's trying to keep it simple. So he just focuses on the last topic she's touched upon - and look at that, it just so happens to be about something he cares to discuss.

"So your sister's a fighter?" That much he can understand. Monster creatures... He'll get to those in a minute.