Caro turned over the party with wild abandon, like a child digging for grubs. He had no need of Ansel Barclay after this next couple hours so his reputation was just as expendable. He flirted, he taunted, he boasted, he did anything Caro himself would never. Caro hated him but thrilled in his shoes. He had trouble keeping his goal in site for all his bizarre antics and trysts. Caro had agreed to meet several people later on for an private affair and one other person tomorrow for a honor duel. Ansel was here for a good time but not a long one it seemed.
Luckily behind the constant rumor milling and his own personal disgrace he found the needle. Practically trod on it to be fair. Eventually he was approached by a nervous man with calloused hands and a bright sunflower yellow angular fox masque. “Excuse me Ser, I was told to meet a person at this party. They said they would stand out.” He turned his head back toward him almost accusingly before the corner of his mask hit the wall with a dull thud. He stared the stranger up and down a moment. Thick callouses and an unease around predators put him as a prey creature, approaching the communal drinks desperately wishing that there be no crocodiles this time. “Oh, you must be him.” Caro said quitely, dropping his accent. “Go approach Mrs. Barclay across the way, she's the lovely owl holding a full flute of champaine and considering how to drink it through a manufactured beak. She'll guide you out when I make the signal.” It would have been wise to prearrange the signal but he already had an idea
It was easy and unkind to see the ofal and excess around them and think of those outside the city scraping by and feel that biting rage that rests just behind the teeth. Useful too if you have to do something unkind in return. Caro stood still a moment his eyes blind as his senses fled into the unyeilding stone. Slowly the granite tables ground into the bones and bread piled above. Dust ran in waterfalls off of the table edges and on the to the ground mixing with the debris of a night just starting. There they pooled for a moment before making a break for the walls and finally the ceiling. People began to gasp and clap, assuming their pet illusionist had made their way to the party. Slowly the river of filth on the ceiling led to a bulge of swirling brown particles, dryly grinding against each other and growing until like a massive water droplet, it snapped and plummeted down into standing brazier and promptly detonating. The room shook with shock and sound, and then was filled with choking smoke. Tapistry and banners burst into immediate flame, and the sudden pressure and heat drove the guests to the floor. Caro having been braced for it was already at the side exit and let the wave push him into the street, the cobbles soft and yielding at his behest. He got up, looking back at the party now in flames and jogged away coughing toward the meet up point.
Luckily behind the constant rumor milling and his own personal disgrace he found the needle. Practically trod on it to be fair. Eventually he was approached by a nervous man with calloused hands and a bright sunflower yellow angular fox masque. “Excuse me Ser, I was told to meet a person at this party. They said they would stand out.” He turned his head back toward him almost accusingly before the corner of his mask hit the wall with a dull thud. He stared the stranger up and down a moment. Thick callouses and an unease around predators put him as a prey creature, approaching the communal drinks desperately wishing that there be no crocodiles this time. “Oh, you must be him.” Caro said quitely, dropping his accent. “Go approach Mrs. Barclay across the way, she's the lovely owl holding a full flute of champaine and considering how to drink it through a manufactured beak. She'll guide you out when I make the signal.” It would have been wise to prearrange the signal but he already had an idea
It was easy and unkind to see the ofal and excess around them and think of those outside the city scraping by and feel that biting rage that rests just behind the teeth. Useful too if you have to do something unkind in return. Caro stood still a moment his eyes blind as his senses fled into the unyeilding stone. Slowly the granite tables ground into the bones and bread piled above. Dust ran in waterfalls off of the table edges and on the to the ground mixing with the debris of a night just starting. There they pooled for a moment before making a break for the walls and finally the ceiling. People began to gasp and clap, assuming their pet illusionist had made their way to the party. Slowly the river of filth on the ceiling led to a bulge of swirling brown particles, dryly grinding against each other and growing until like a massive water droplet, it snapped and plummeted down into standing brazier and promptly detonating. The room shook with shock and sound, and then was filled with choking smoke. Tapistry and banners burst into immediate flame, and the sudden pressure and heat drove the guests to the floor. Caro having been braced for it was already at the side exit and let the wave push him into the street, the cobbles soft and yielding at his behest. He got up, looking back at the party now in flames and jogged away coughing toward the meet up point.
06-22-2024, 04:14 PM
