Making connections [open]

[Ayaena]

Ayaena had taken this opportunity to happily dress up. The woman wore a short white dress which flared about her thighs in multiple layers, true to a very typical 'faerie style'. It was whispy and elegant when she moved, and in order to keep her legs warm she'd added white lace tights, a pattern of glowing ivory skin being created by the fabric. The dress was low-cut but with long sleeves, so she wore a short white evening jacket with a scarf loosely about her neck. The only thing that remained her own was the blue-purple hair, it was her trademark as a Sidhe and she dared not toy with it. She liked purple, anyway.

Naoku was a formidable presence at her side, the massive sparkling white tiger fit into the theme of the festivities effortlessly. His sparkling ice blue eyes were as dramatic as Ayaena's own red-orange amber and cornflower blue. Her hand slid through his fur now and again as they walked, the Sidhe woman smiling at everyone who met her eyes, Seelie or Unseelie. Although she had a certain pride in her court, she was not stupid enough to deny the importance of a few good ties in the other. You never knew when it could be useful to be welcome in all necks of the woods.

She was looking forward to seeing what her Queen had presented for them, and thanking her for the graceful festival. Many had passed, but as she arrived she found this one set a particularly pleasant mood. The night was falling, fires were lit, and everything had a warmth which imitated the coming season. Her pointed close-toe heels sank into the earth now and again, so she had to walk lightly. She grabbed a glass of wine on the way through and began to sip at it lightly. Though she couldn't remember the last time she'd been inebriated, her faerie blood made sure that one glass had less effect than grape juice.

It was still pleasant, to just socialize and indulge. She was a social creature and often craved a good stimulating interaction. Delicately she took up post outside a tent and watched as faerie milled in and out. Already there were many she recognized, but more interesting still was those she did not. A bit late to make an entrance, she knew the night was still young and there was much to happen.

[Marat]

The festival explodes into an array of madness; chaos fills the atmosphere at the arrival of the shadow creatures. They move like ghosts in the night but fight as corporeal beings. With blades of steel and arrows of wood and feather they stab, slash, and hack with their goal to slay as many faerie as possible…or at least, come as close as one can come to slaying the fae.

Marat is pushed aside by a charging crowd, rolling to the ground as to avoid being trampled as well as avoiding an oncoming arrow. His line of sight to his earlier companions is broken and is not recovered as the crowd continues to rush about, panic stricken as the attacks continue. Though he worries about the painter and the pixie he had been chatting with he know he can do them no good by dwelling and potentially dying himself. Thus by this time Marat’s sword is drawn and his low crouch has in him a position that affords his opponents a difficult target but himself a decent vantage point.

From this vantage point Marat spots a creature descending upon a purple haired sidhe, her back turned to the potential assailant. His powerful legs drive him forth and he thrusts with the tip of his blade. He feels the flesh puncture, sees the blood spray and hears the audible scream of the creature as his steel sinks its mark. He presses forth, running his steel the full depth of the monster in order to slay it or hamper it fully by decimating the abdomen. Busy Marat is in his pursuit of the first creature that he does not see the second moving towards him, a dagger brandishing ghoul coming at his back.

[Ayaena]

An arrow hisses by Ayaena's ear loud enough for her to spin into a crouch with no hesitation. Slamming her back against the solid wood of a tree, she doesn't dare to peek around to spot the assailants. Throwing herself into the open to make a dash, she is surprised by the sound of death just behind her and to her right. Instinctively she turns, her hand coming to life with power until she realized the death was of an enemy and not a friend.

Marat is blind to his own backside for the moment, so she decides to return his favour, pulling a small pole from her hip which extended into a bladed halberd with a calculated touch. The distance meant she was able to make twisting contact with the blade before Marat was even scratched. It took great effort to actually move the blade inside the creature, and she made a small sound as her muscles contracted tightly. When she pulled the soiled blade out sideways, she grimaced at the amount of cleaning that would need to be done later.

She nodded her head at the other fae and smiled. "One good turn deserves another, hmm?" Her eyes flitted to the right and left with notable concern. "Do you know the location of Queen Annette and her current party? I can't hear much over the sound of... well, everything." Her ears were ringing with shouts from the more frantic fae, so that she couldn't discern where the most people were at the moment. Hopefully the fatalities were limited. "We should keep moving. My name is Ayaena, by the way." She didn't ask for the man's name, instead assuming that he would politely offer it in response to her introduction.