(121-10-17) Beggar's Night Revellers

This part of the city has many bands of people traveling about, some with lantern, torch, or the like. Many of them are wearing their revel costumes, masks, or have simply used cloth or greasepaint to hide their faces. Some bands contain children, though it is getting late enough that the bands are more likely to be tipsy men looking for free drinks under cover of the custom.

Eonn is out there. Unrecognisable, really. He's wearing a long black robe with a white hood over his head. A paper-mache mask of a lion, painted dead matte black, hides his face. It's not a jokey lion. It's a thick maned, heavy-muzzled beast, its expression blank and sombre.

A tall, rather muscular woman, with red silk covering key areas, long red gloves, and a long veil hiding her face, walks with lowered eyes, sticking mostly to the shadows.

Peri is settled near the stairs of the Lysene Baths on a grand pile of pillows. She hasn't bothered with painting her face dark - instead, her face has tears painted down her cheeks in reverence to the Weeping Woman of Lys with a tattered black mourning gown of grand silk that borders on the edge of indecent with opacity in places. Her hair is left a mess, a black silken veil that has been tattered pinned in place with craggy black roses. A personal cultural twist to counter the Westerosi one. Tables are set up full of gourmet snacks and punch bowls, a musician paid to play elegant dirges. Carved turnips hang from the light posts, leering out at the square.

The Lion of Night might be recognizable, though it's cultural origin is lost on the vast majority of Westerosi people. It turns its head to look over the people in the square, its fixed mache gaze cold.

The Woman in Red steps into the lighted area. For all the barely there of her gown, everything about her body language is modest and submissive. She is subtly awkward in a way that suggests discomfort with so much of her skin being on display. She shuffles her beslippered feet at the edge of the light, unsure if she should step further.

Peri is not moving comfortable and sprawled with a mug of wine in hand, sipping slowly and reveling calmly. She seems to just be crowd watching, legs tucked under her hips, curved frame still nice and padded.

The Lion fixes its 'gaze' on Peri and starts her way.

The tilt of the woman in red's head suggests a wariness of the Lord of Night. She edges towards Peri, keeping him in view. She kneels beside the woman in black in a posture of silent suplication.

Peri is slow to move, tattered lace glove touching the woman in red's forearm "Please, eat and drink, let the night not end in lamentations." she whispers breathily, her long legs shifting as she gets resituated, bowing her head. Her fingers move into her hair, pulling a piece of hardened maple candy wrapped in parchment to drop in the woman's lap. The lion is observed, warily.

All maester's look alike, don't they? This one certainly does what with his drab maester's robes and the chains that hang around his neck. This maester has on a hood, pulled up, casting his face into shadows, and the more observant might note that further, a black domino mask conceals his eyes beneath that hood. He's been dispensing dubious 'wisdom' to any who approach him. Very dubious, he may be a bit tipsy. "Bite the ewe before it bites you." And "Laugh not last nor first, least you assume the worst." He wanders over to where Peri is too.

Eonn strides towards Peri and the Weeping Woman, slowly.

The Woman in red's voice is low and husky. She whispers more than speaks plain, "I thank you for your hospitality, Goddess." She lifts the candy under her veil to suck. "Is there ought I might fetch for your comfort from your table?" She rises and curtsies awkwardly to the Lord of night and the Maester.

Peri is depicting the weeping woman, her hands resting in her lap again. "Perhaps the oysters from the table." She observes the Maester, her fingers smoothing over her dress "Anything off the table was made today and delicious." she whispers, except the red hot candies set between anise flavored candies and honey flavored candies that are somewhat like jelly beans. Even she is pulling small pranks.

"Wine," says the Lion, in a deep flat tone that's somewhere between a question and a demand.

The Woman in Red's dark eyes stays down cast as she gathers their orders: oysters for the Weeping Woman, the largest measure of wine for the Lord of Night. She seems eager enough to serve, as if serving is what she lives to do.

"Who pays the price for that which is free?" The Maester asks Peri, his voice rich and warm, his accent almost a caress. "First, you must ask a question of me. The wisdom of the world, yours for the knowing. If only the right question is spoken."

Peri 's voice is smooth and warm, "You should try the punch - made with Dornish Cava." she whispers, warmly, picking her wine up, drinking slowly, the deep red wine getting rolled as she relaxes. "Me? There is no time for questions - only weeping." she croons aloud, considering his words She offers a cattish grin - causing her makeup to make her face look a bit alarmingly ghastly "You wish me to ask a question. hu."

The Woman in red whispers, "Those who can least afford it, generally." She pours herself punch, and comes to sit with her legs demurely folded together by the Weeping Woman. She lifts the cup to sip beneath her veil.

The Maester removes a handkerchief with a flourish, offering it over to Peri. There's a smile on his lips, as he leans forward. "Perhaps if you had answers you would weep less, and question more?" he muses. "Or is it the hopelessness of knowing all, that causes such tears?" He turns to The Woman in Red. "Do they not pay the price for all things? Still this is the knight where beggars become kings and none might deny their requests."

The Lion looks at the Maester and laughs, richly. It has to tip its mask back to drink the wine, revealing a bit of red beard.

Peri takes the hankerchief "If I do not weep - who will for all the lost little ones and wickedness of wanton ways?" she asks, sprawling back, taking a white mask with a very lovely woman's face on the surface "With love there is weeping." she croons. Without much warning, her fingers shift foreward to gently wrap around the lion's beard, trying to convince him to come foreward, intending to press a kiss to his lips in greeting, she is afterall multiple cups in after multiple months of sobriety. "Death is the price of all things."

The Woman in Red whispers to the Maester, "Am I not here to serve as I am needed? I am both Servant to those in need and Beggar tonight."

"And what use are such tears?" The Maester replies. "With love their may be weeping, and sleeping, and keeping, and what use are such things? Better to cast such sentimentalities aside and instead embrace the way of the mind not the heart. Pure questions, poor answers, and no tears at all." He laughs in startled amusement at Peri's last statement. "Is it? How terribly gloomy. Better to reach for immortality in other ways then."

The Lion laughs again and bends to accept the kiss. When it's passed he says, gravely, "As well we know, there is no joy unmixed with woe."

The Woman in Red whispers her agreement to the weeping Woman, "Valar Morghulis; Valar Dohaeris." She drinks more punch, rather thirstily.

A loud group of men with animal half masks start pushing each other clumsily on the other side of the square, slurred voices raised in anger.

"Valar's an awfully popular woman today," The Maester comments. He's just about to make for those sweets on offer when he notes that scuffle. Right. Time to be elsewhere?

Eonn straightens up to look over towards the little scuffle. He laughs again. "Just so," he says.

Peri watches the fight "If they get too rowdy, perhaps I will weep for them." she remarks, dryly, drawing her wine deeply and moving to stand up with a wobble, getting a better vantage point. Her belled anklets jingling musically as she watches the group, offering thelion an oyster as she manages one herself.

The shuffle turns into a rather uncoordinated shoving match, that shortly ends with the combatants sitting in horse filth, hugging each other and insisting, "I love you, Man."

Seeing the Weeping Woman hobble, the woman in Red rises and in her haste forgets to be clumsy, the graceful efficiency of her movements giving the swordsman under the careful padding away. She puts a red gloved hand on the Goddesses arm to steady her.

"That sounds like a threat," The Maester comments. He goes over to help himself to the sweets, the aniseed ones drawing his attention first.

A figue wrapped in black and grey rags with a hood edges towards the masked figures watching the abortive scuffle.

Peri grins "Not necessarily." she croons, moving her weight tostand firm, watching the squabble with visible amusement, her long legs shifting as she brushes the Lion's shoulder. "mm." she watches the figure with an amused smile.

The Lion takes the offered oyster and tips his mask back to pour the little creature down his throat.

The Maester misses those spicy jelly beans, unfortunately or fortunately. And then he heads on his way.

Curtsies to the departing Maester and whispers, "Kind Winds!" She turns to watch the scuffle turn cuddly, but sips her punch, making no effort to involve herself.

The Lion just keeps drinking wine. "Did you get enough?" he asks of those around him.

Peri is quiet, giving a curtsy and calmly resting her hand on her lower back, as if stiff. "Drink your fill, sweet lion." she whispers, right against the Lion's ear, her foot tapping lazy as she takes another oyster to draw down. She seems to be largely calm.

The Lady in Red whispers, "Enough is for another to say. My purpose is to serve."

The Lion mask nods. "Not enough," he says, sounding amused. Then he drains his wine glass. "When it comes to drinking."

Loryn comes from Oldtown Street to the West.

Peri 's fingers take a piece of dried meat, moving to rub at her side a bit "Drink as much as you want, Lion." she whispers, her smile showing.

There's a tall figure near Peri, and he bends to refill his wine glass. He's wearing a long black robe with a white hood over his head. A paper-mache mask of a lion, painted dead matte black, hides his face. It's not a jokey lion. It's a thick maned, heavy-muzzled beast, its expression blank and sombre.

The Lady in red hastens to refill the Lion's cup when he bends and bring them more oysters. She is quite tall and muscuylar with a long red silk veil.

This part of the city has many bands of people traveling about, some with lantern, torch, or the like. Many of them are wearing their revel costumes, masks, or have simply used cloth or greasepaint to hide their faces. Some bands contain children, though it is getting late enough that the bands are more likely to be tipsy men looking for free drinks under cover of the custom. Tables are set up in front of the Lysene Baths full of gourmet snacks and punch bowls, a musician paid to play elegant dirges. Carved turnips hang from the light posts, leering out at the square.

Several men in half masks had a small shuffle and are now drunkenly hugging in the gutter as their equally drunk friends look on on the other side of the square. A hooded figure is quietly picking the pockets of distracted onlookers.

The Lord of Night (Lion), the Weeping Woman, and the Woman in red are by the refreshments near the Lysene baths.

Peri 's fingers wrap around The Lord of Night's shoulders, trying to convince him to dance with her, although they both have cups in hand. Her long limbs showing through the sheer layers of silk in places, teasing the crowd with glimpses. Oh yes the tall, black tattered silk clad woman is drunk, and in a wonderfully flirty mood.

If there's a masqued party going on, surely the actors of the Whimsy can't be far. Having plundered the costume chests, they have done themselves up in fanciful ways, some only just skimming the side of taste. Among them is Lord Loryn (of course), though who could he be among the masqued players? The Dragon? The Wraith? The Sun God? Or the Mermaid? Who can tell?

The Lion of Night complies with the request to dance, holding his wine glass at the Weeping Woman's shoulder as he does so.

The Woman in Red sees the others start to dance and begins to sway slowly, the layers of red silk shifting, but never quite showing anything important, but hinting they might if she were to spin fast enough. Though her dress is nigh scandelous, her dance itself is as demure as a Septa's. Her head stays tilted downwards and her steps are quite maidenly, like a young girl at her first dance, which is unlikely given her height.

Peri is careful to correct her posture as she dances with the Lion of Night, her grin showing as she whispers "I'm a bit drunk." she admits "Don't let me get drunker or I'll get lost going home." she half requests, half orders, careful still not to rub make up on the lovely mask. She is at the very least cuddly close.

The Lion gets his feet stepped on, but he doesn't seem to mind, and recovers easily. He's in good form, moving smoothly. "Get drunker," he suggests.

The Whimsy group is starting to dance as well - with each other in lack of females. Not that they seem to mind at this stage. They don't seem to be too sober anymore and hey, it's all fun!

Dances by herself in a circle, simple steps and slow spins between sips of punch, for want of a male partner.

The Woman in Red ances by herself in a circle, simple steps and slow spins between sips of punch, for want of a male partner.

A big furry bear advances on the woman in red, pawing her shoulder to indicate his interest in a dance.

Peri is mercifully at least a bit graceful even while drunk. She rubs her curvy frame up against the Lion, resting her nose against the Lion' mask, gently. "But I have to go home tonight, or my little beasty will be hungry."

The Lion laughs. "You'll get it drunk," he warns. "Poor thing."

The Woman in Red drains her drink and sets it carefully aside. She curtsies to the Bear, then submissively offers herself for the dance. Up close, one can tell that her eyes and hair are very dark and that the mask beneath the veil has an animal's snout, though the red fabric obscures the details. She is very, very tall, and her hands beneath the long red gloves are strong. her warm breath smells mildly of wine punch.

The Bear is not very tall, which probably makes him look like a slightly overgrown teddybear hopping about in front of the tall lady, but his paws still take her hands when she sets down her drink, so they can actually dance together.

Peri chuckles a bit "You'll have to come by. If you can't stumble home, make den with me. There will be no amorousness, but there will be closeness, and a warm bed" she croons at poor masked Eonn.

The pick pocket slinks away unnoticed, likely to hit the party in front oif the Dragon Manse. The Lion dances with the Weeping Lady; The Woman in red dances with a Bear.

"I intend to drink more," says the Lion. "Much more."

The Ice Princess enters. With hair of silver, spun through with gold, tumbled upon her head, interlaced with diamonds that shimmer and glitter as they catch the light, and wearing a striking white gown, embroidered in exquisite detail, that does much of the same. As pale as ice, all of her features concealed behind a crystalline mask, that has no mouth. In fact her costume has no skin showing at all, the only thing on display not her dress are her striking violet eyes. For all her beauty This Princess has bite, there's a slender sword at her hip, in an ornate sheathe. In her gloved hands she's carrying a basket, long since empty of whatever wares it contained.

The Lion of Night continues to turn the Weeping Woman in the slow dance to the dirge the musicians are playing.

The Woman in red moves as the small bear leads, completely giving herself over to the guidance of his paws. Her feet are nimble enough for all the maidenly awkwardness.

The Bear seems happy enough with the tall woman in his paws until he spots the ice princess arriving and almost knocks his dance partner over. Is that a whistle behind the fake snout? Then he recovers, mumbles an apology and continues dancing.

Peri tilts up the Lion's mask to reveal lips, pulling a folding fan to obscure their face, pressing an amorous kiss - not just a peck a true kiss. "I should go sleep off the drink, or I'll ache." she whispers, pulling back with a calm, warmth in her motions.

Eonn accepts the kiss, and laughs, then pulls the mask down again. "Go, then," he tells Peri. "And drink something that's not wine, first. Water."

The Veiled Head of the woman in red tilts up for the first time, startled by a glimpse of the Ice Princess. She makes a soft sound in her beribboned throat, then looks down again as her partner near knocks her over. She betrays a hidden grace as she recaptures her balance. She looks down again demurely, concentrating on keeping step with her partner.

Peri is quiet "Milk, warmed with spices." she offers, blowing Eonn a kiss and starting away, beginning the false weeping the Weeping Woman is known for, her thick frame swaying about as she moves away, towards the under city oddly enough.

Ice Princesses are beyond the cares of mortal men and women. Whistles and looks are paid little heed and any hands reaching for her just find air as she dances away. And oh, she dances. That's what they're here for, is it not? Fervent, alone, everything about her a thing of grace, eerily quiet and serene this offering to the Stranger.

The Bear's attention wavers between the Red Woman and the Ice Princess. Ah, choices. Just then the dance ends and he stands awkwardly for a moment. "Care for a drink?", he asks his companion hopefully.

The Lion watches the Weeping Woman go, for a short period. Then he moves to once again refill his wine from the supply near the Bath House. It'll no doubt all be gone by morning, no sense in restraint.

The Woman is red's voice is low and husky, barely louder than a whisper, "I aim to please. What you wish, I wish. Shall I pour us both drinks, Lord Bear?" The tilt of her head suggests she is watching the Ice Princess dance.

The Bear freezes half a second when he's called a lord, but the moment quickly passes. "Yes, certainly.", he agrees, padding behind her, "Do you have a name, fair lady?"

The Ice Princess pays no heed to anyone, she is here to dance, and to dance alone it would seem. She spins, she sways, she moves all in time with the music. She needs no other partner but that almost empty basket she's carrying. All others beneath her notice. And then, from the corner of her eye she catches a glimpse of something… no someone. A raggedy girl-child, still awake at this late hour, watching the celebrations. The Ice Princess approaches, cautiously as one might a cat, doing all she can to ensure that the child does not bolt.

The child watches wide eyed, to startled by the beautiful apparition approaching her to bolt.

The Woman in Red's voice stays soft, "Call me what you will. I live to serve." She pours them large measures of the wine punch and offers one to the bear with a curtsy, "If I did wrong with the honorific, please correct me." There is a trace of low Valarian in her accent.

The Lion tips back his mask a bit, revealing red beard as he drinks wine, and watches the Ice Princess.

The Ice Princess removes a small doll from the basket, the very last of the gifts she had to offer. It's a plain thing, with coarse yarn for hair and a rough dress, and unseen by any other a coin secreted away in a pocket in that dress. The doll is offered over, in a graceful, outstretched hand, an offering to one who'd never ask for it.

"No no, it's fine, who doesn't like to be called a Lord.", the Bear assures his companion, the speech betraying an actual noble background, He is forced to push the snout back up to his forehead in order to drink, watching the Ice Princess as well. "She might be a child catcher.", he suggests warily.

The girl peers up at the Ice Princess shyly. he hesitates, clearly not believing a creature of such unworldly beauty could mean the gift for her. Then she decides, snatching it and scurrying under a table to play with her new toy. A mumbled, than you emerges from beneath the table.

The Woman in Red lifts the cup under the veil, so she might drink without being seen. "The stranger would take any child catcher who dared this night, I think…" The tilt of her head suggests she is watching just in case, though.

The Ice Princess waits for no thanks though. Already she's walking off, swinging that basket as she moves. While the basket may be big enough to fit a child in, it would have to be a very small child, or one shrunk to doll size. Still all things are possible. There's the briefest flicks of her eyes towards the lion, and then a slight tilt of her head.

The Lion says quietly, "Just so." His tone is serious.

The Bear grunts and finishes his drink, then shrugs. "You are probably right…" Before he can say anymore, he is suddenly surrounded by his odd assortment of friends again, who whoop and cheer and try to drag him off. Someone whispers something into the bear's ear and his eyes widen, staring at the Red Woman for a long moment. Then he hastily and rather clumsily bows to her, manages a weak "It's been a pleasure" and he lets himself get dragged off by his friends.

The Woman in red curtsies to the Bear, then drifts next to the Lord of Night to watch the Ice Princess while she drinks.

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