A Paradys Masquerade
The Sweet Cup was quiet in the hour before opening. The girls who worked in the establishment were happily bounding around, getting things ready for the opening rush when the Temple Guard came off duty. Black Robin, the satyr highwayman lounged at the bar, poking idly at his ale.
"So when’s the massive shindig?" He pushed the tankard towards the purple-haired kinain who was polishing the bar top.
"Tonight," Seraphie said, flicking a strand of hair out of her eyes. "They’re getting into their costumes right now. I don’t know what they are, but Jonas was being totally secretive about his, so Firedrake ought to be happy with it. It must be a good one."
"Did Pulcinella make them?" The satyr tipped more ale into his tankard, scraping the foam off into the pitcher. Seraphie frowned and snatched the pitcher away.
"Keep doing that and I’m administering the ass-kicking from hell. And no, they got the costumes from some witch in New York." She tossed the rag into a bucket and put the pitcher away. "Hell, as long as it covers the face, they’re cool."
Black Robin laughed, tipping back his tankard. "Bet you anything Honoria’s is a full body bag."
Seraphie looked at the massive staircase, her green eyes speculative. "Actually…I don’t think it is."
She turned before the full length mirror, still astonished at herself. The shimmering black silk hugged every sloping curve, clung taut to every plane of muscle. It seemed to draw light from the room, glimmering along her body’s lines, flowing into a skirt that shifted of its’ own accord. Her hands were covered with the same silk, giving her little grip on anything, but making her entire body a patch of inky night. Her hair was more golden from the powder the witch had told her to comb through it, and the black antennae which quivered, springing from within her hair, were dusted with the same glittery stuff. The real amazement for Honoria was the set of monarch butterfly wings which made up the back of the costume. They were black and gold, gleaming brilliantly in the lamplight, and fluttered gently when she moved her arms. Her face was covered from hairline to just above her lips with a black mask, stroked with butterfly-like patterns of gold. Her lips were painted gold to match, and her skin seemed even paler with all of the black to set it off. Honoria felt…odd within the costume. She felt lighter, considerably so, but decently armed, for the witch had given her two serrated blades of a strange black metal to wear on the insides of her forearms. When she turned, the costume fluttered and glided with her movements, making her strangely graceful. For a moment, Honoria gazed in the mirror, her violet eyes shimmering behind the mask. Then…she smiled.
Black Robin glanced up idly, then choked, coughed and spit ale all over Seraphie, who had been sitting next to him peacefully.
"Robin! What the fuck? Ewww!" She shook her hair, trying to get the ale off, and blinked when he just stared past her at the staircase. "What? What is it?" Seraphie turned to look, and fell silent herself.
The monarch butterfly was majestic, fluttering lightly down the stairs, almost floating on the arm of her escort. Firedrake was truly imposing: a black dragon who’s scales were tipped with gold striding masterfully down the oak steps. His scaled head turned to look directly at Seraphie, and she felt her knees go weak. The costume was amazing, with a powerful tail curling behind his muscular form, and massive wings folded on his back, shifting with every step. A clawed arm was cocked for the butterfly’s, and they seemed to fit just perfectly, something light, delicate and beautiful with a creature vicious, imposing and royal. Neither Robin nor Seraphie said a word as the dragon and butterfly descended the steps. Instead, Robin rose calmly, bowed deeply to the two of them, and opened the Sweet Cup’s heavy oaken door. He stood aside as they paraded out to the waiting carrige, then shut the door calmly. He and Seraphie exchanged a look, and she swallowed.
"Well…I hope nothing happens tonight. If they damage those costumes, there’ll be hell to pay from that witch. Not to mention Jonas’ll pitch a fit if something goes wrong."
Robin looked at the door, blinked again, and shook his head. "I…uh…can’t really think of anything to say. They just looked…right that way."
Seraphie looked speculative for a moment, the sparkle in her emerald eyes shining faintly. "Yeah. They really did."