All was silent, as the guests pondered the evils within them, each blaming themselves for
Kath’s death, a heavy guilt on their hearts. All ten, anyway. Four felt no guilt, no regret. This ball was going well for them, and they could sit back and laugh silently while putting on their best frowny-faces. Luckily for them, the masks helped in keeping their true selves a secret.
There was a
SLAM that echoed through the hall, but a rushed “sorry” from one of the musicians made everyone quickly forget they had heard anything. Everyone’s minds felt they had enough explanation for it, and they were too preoccupied with other concerns to really pay much more attention to strange noises.
mormegil stood quietly in the corner, wiping off the blood from the spike he had removed from
Kath’s chest.
Farael had stopped showing off the blinding whiteness of his teeth, and
Eomer was careful not to bear his fangs in smile or sneer.
Celuien was rounding up
Valier and
Cailín to keep them from flying off.
Holbytlass was muttering about how juggling without anything to juggle was a mockery of a refined art while she bitterly watched
Macalaure flicking his wrists and throwing air around.
Nogrod was professing his guilt to
Folwren, who answered him periodically with “you’re wasting your time.”
Naria was falling asleep listening to
Rikae talk.
No one really noticed that
Kitanna was missing. Not until the band was all prepared to start playing again.
The music started, but they had made it through only about three measures before all the musicians stopped playing their instruments, leaving the harpsichordist (no party is complete without one, for everyone knows the dead have this thing for harpsichords) tapping at various keys and wondering why, instead of sharp, crystalline notes, hitting a key resulted in a
squelch.
“Stop playing, man!” a flautist screamed at him.
No one else could find their voices as a deep red slowly oozed forth from underneath the lid.
“I’m not opening that.”
Eomer swallowed, rolled up his sleeves, and took a few steps forward. Most admired his bravery, some watched him with amusement and anticipation in their eyes. But before he reached the instrument, he heard a soft
crunch beneath one of his feet. He looked down to see brown paper shreds. One bloodied eyehole stared up at him.
No one needed to see any more. A fourth light had joined the other three above their heads, and they all knew it as the last of
Kitanna.
The harpsichordist plucked a (written) note from atop his instrument.
Quote:
“In the end of time
There was a man who knew the road
And the writing, was written on the stone
In the ancient time
An artist led the way
But no one, seemed to understand
In his heart he knew
The artist must be true
But the legend, of the rent was way past due
Well you think you'll be just fine...without me, but your mine!
You think you can, kick me out of the band
Well there's just one problem there
The band is mine
How can you kick me out...of what is mine
You’re not hardcore
Unless you live hardcore”*
We live hardcore.
You die hardcore.
~The Barrow-Wolves
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The Dead Dead
Durelin (Mod and Hostess) – Ghostbusted on Rest (Night) the First
CaptainofDespair (Co-mod and Host) – Ghostbusted on Rest (Night) the First
Kath (Ordinary Villager) – Pinned and Labeled by the Mob on Dance (Day) the First
Kitanna (Ordinary Villager) – Minced, Placed in the Band, and Hardcore Harpsichorded on Rest (Night) the Second
The Living Dead
mormegil as a (Kewl-Shades) Rude Boy
Farael as a Fair-looking Orc
Rikae as an Entwife
Nogrod as a Nice Choirboy
Lalwendë as a (Mischievous Little) Christmas Elf
Naria as a Spoiled Heiress wearing a Venetian half mask
Macalaure as a Mime
Celuien as a Cowgirl
Valier as a Flighty Young Woman wearing an exotic colourful bird mask
Eomer of the Rohirrim as Vorgram, Ancient Prince of Wargs
Cailín as a Robin
Holbytlass as a Court Jester
Folwren as an Elegant, Cold, Stoic, Mysterious Countess
“If you believe in forever
Then life is just a one-night stand
If there's a rock and roll heaven
Well you know they've got a hell of a band…”
~The Righteous Brothers, Rock and Roll Heaven
Dance (Day) 2 has now begun. Werewolves stop PMing. Everyone start talking.
*from
School of Rock, “The Legend of the Rent”