(121-10-24) Dragon Ball Snippets

The house and gardens are open to society folk of all stripes and select less savory friuends of the Targaryens. Paper loanterns are all over the garden. In the manse, there are metal lanterns cut in phantasmagorical shapes. The food and drink are flowing freely, with a number of the new vintages Prince Dhraegon has sponsored on display. Night has fallen and the Manse and gardens fill with fantastically dressed forms. Several bands play in various rooms to encoureage dancing.

A huge figure dressed in a dyed feather phoenix costume haunts the garden. The bird's fondness for the strawberry wine and jam cakes is clear.

Norah is visiting, quiet and graceful, carrying a gift for her host - a lovely cake with lovely icing and a lovely and delicate shimmering dragon motif. The cake itself being a very mild dragon fruit ordeal! She is dressed in red silks - with orange accents with a basket of fruit balanced atop her head. She's dressed as an Essosi fruit merchant! Her pale skin sort of ruins it though. She sets the treat down on the table, moving back before turning it quietly and adjusting the dress, eying herself in a reflection and pulling the two piece costume gown up on her hips "Goodness. How scandalous." she mumbles, face getting red - the slightest hint of her hip visible before her adjustments

Coming in quietly and without fanfare is a figure in the costume of a golden sparrow. Adelais Hightower looks somewhat nervous but seems to be trying to hide it. Dressed as a golden songbird she flutters silently throught he crowd offering a small warm smile to any who look her way but moving on without speaking just yet. She makes her way to the tables and then she really does smile when she spots the cakes..and the one being delivered now as well. She hovers near the tables trying to decide which treat she wants most. The phoenix near the jam cakes gets an interested look and she inches a bit closer eyeing those cakes curiously. "Mmm…strawberry. Those are probably delicious. I love strawberries." She speaks quietly but her voice is soft with an almost musical quality to it even though she is only speaking.

The Phoenix somehow recognizes Norah from his joint Nameday Party early in the Summer and approaches her, wine cup in hand, with his arm/wings spread for a hug. His bass voice and characteristic childish giggle are unmistakable, and his speech is even slower than usual from the wine, "I remember you! You were… you were…." He clearly struggles for her name. There is jam smeared about his mouth and chin. Only the lower half of his face is showing. He does not recognize the Songbird, alas, thinking her still at a country estate.

Norah squeaks, looking embarassed at being hugged, but her bright smile shows "I remember you too, my dear prince!" she offers, cheerfully "Norah of house Plumm." she whispers softly, taking a hankerchief out to very gently daub Dhraegon's face clean, her giggle escaping. "Ah I made the strawberry custard tarts towards the back too." she offers. "I sent you the lovely cakes for your name day and a roasted boar. She doesn't look offended or even at all upset - that smile is persistent on her features.

Lais doesn't seem to recognize who the Phoenix is either. She studies him a moment his demeanor and actions drawing a small light hearted giggle from the Hightower dressed as a Sparrow. Her hand reaches up to muffle the giggle but her eyes sparkle with amusment. She turns back to the the cakes and selects one of the strawberry jam cakes nibbling on it as she moves out of the way a bit to watch the dancing with interest. Her gaze drifts back to the Phoenix and his friend after a moment though. She looks curious but she doesn't want to interupt anything.

Dhraegon squeals in delight at being remembered, "You bring nice cakes. I always remember cakes." He lets go, "Have you tried the strawberry wine?" He is eyeing her cake excitedly. (Not a euphemism). He submits to the daubing patiently. A clever person might notice a small middle aged man dressed as a Bravo with live steel in his scabbard hovers in the background in case of trouble. The Phoenix points his beak at the giggling bird and gives her a big goofy smile, "It is a good night for giggling and celebrating being alive, isn't it?" Seeing her choice of cakes, he bounces excitedly, "Those are my favorite too! I made sure we have lots for the party!"

Norah covers her mouth "Try the custard cakes, I insist. I beat the cream for the decoration myself at the cake house." she's quiet "Although it must seem so strange that I make cakes for coin for you. I apologize if it wasn't welcome. I thought hard about the cake, if you don't like it, my prince, spit it into a napkin and send me a letter - I'll send you one to your liking!" she watches Lais, giving a polite curtsey now, her hands pursing "if you like the cakes exceptionally - send word to the baker so the small folk are rewarded for their toil." she smiles brightly at the Braavosi nearby, giving him a quick curtsey as well.

The Sparrow drifts a bit closer to the pair at that goofy but still warm looking smile. She smiles back wamly but a bit shyly and nods. "Indeed it is. Being alive and well is always something to celebrate I have found." She nibbles the cake she holds swallowing a bite and licking her lips. "They are delicious…you have excellent taste in cakes. But then I would probably say that about anyone who enjoys sweets as much as I do." She smiles warmly now and once she ginishes the cake she will drop into a curtsey. "I don't think we have met…I am Lady Adelais Hightower…but I prefer Lais or Lady Lais if you feel you must be formal."

Dhraegon squeals happily at the description of the custard cakes. Clearly all cakes are welcome at Dhraegon's feast. He lunges at one and stuffs it in his mouth, making happy noises and he munches. "Delicious!" He attempts to hug Norah again with his massive winged arms. The long suffering Flox, dressed as the Braavosi, bows low to Norah. Does that man ever get a night off? The Phoenix grins at the Sparrow, "We have lots of sweet wines too! Noone loves sweet things as much as…. oh!" Her name has struck a cord. In the slow dawning realisation, he downs the rest of his wine, disguarding the cup, so he might take both her hands in his massive paws to raise her from her curtsey. He gushing, wine slowed tongue tripping over itself in his hurry to explain, "Oh! Please don't do that! I'm Prince Dhraegon Targaryen. I believe we are to be wed in a bit. You curtsying feels weird and wrong!"

Flox bows low to Norah again. He is clearly sober, being on duty, "It is kind of you to remember me, My Lady. This smells wonderful. I shall eat it with pleasure. Have you sufficient escort? The street are full of drunken young men after dark."

Norah smiles, backing slowly. "Congratulations, My prince, my lady. It is so very nice to meet you both." she offers, stepping gracefully to adjust her fruit. She takes a small parcel from her costume to offer to Flox "I saw you at the name day party, my good Mister. I made this for you - to make sure you do not grow weary. It was a favorite of my former bethroved. I do hope it makes the night smoother for you." She has gifted Flox a flaky crusted meat pie of well cooked and seasoned boar's meat and cheese with a bit of potato. "I should likely be going, as I confess to not having a proper escort and wanting to get in before the night's devilment begins."

Lais is clearly surprised to have her hands taken but it doesn't seem to bother her at all really as she is lifted out of the curtsey. Once she is standing up straight again she smiles gently at Dhraegon her cheeks a light pink, stained with a blush as she realizes just who he is. "Prince Dhraegon? Yes…we are to wed soon. It is very nice to finally meet you." She smiles shyly looking somewhat uncertain but its more nervousness than anything else. "I will not curtsey to you again if you do not wish me to my Prince. My apologies if I was too formal…I did not know its was you." She looks to Norah and smiles softly. "Thank you, it was nice to meet you as well." Looking back to Dhraegon she offers him another shy but still warm smile.

Dhraegon is huge next to the Sparrow, topping her by well over a foot not counting his feathered crest. His hands are as soft as a baby's, with not a callous to be found. His eyes through the slits in the mask as a very pale lavender. He smells of vanilla and lavender and cake and strawberry wine. He is starting at the Sparrow, mouth slightly open, clearly still trying to get his head around her being here. He whispers, throat suddenly very dry, "I'm not very formal.. I… I never expected to marry. I haven't a sister you know. Do you mind terribly?"

Flox bows low to Norah again. He is clearly sober, being on duty, "It is kind of you to remember me, My Lady. This smells wonderful. I shall eat it with pleasure. Have you sufficient escort? The street are full of drunken young men after dark."

It is past Midnight. The servants have had to replace the candles in the paper lanterns in the garden and the weirdly carved metal ones that cast phantasmagorical shadows around the ballroom and library. Prince Dhragon debuted a wide variety of Redwyne and Mallister ales and wines using Tarthian wood and the partty is generally in honor of his soon to be hightower bride. The wine tasting has long since degenerated into the sort of party you get when you invite a few thousand people and have an open bar. Various bands play oin various rooms. Out in the garden, it is a single lutinist playing something more soothing.

Dhraegon has been drinking steading since afternoon. He has lost the head of his costume at some point. He is red faced and his fine pale hair is a bedraggled nest from hours of sweating under the mask. He is, just now, either trying to dance with or hug some terrified blonde stranger who he seems to have taken for "Ser Mathis," judging by the intelligble bits of his "I love you, Man." speech.

Description set to Cock.

For all one can guess, Keli's late arrival hints at a cat nap that has had her well prepared for the alter goings-on of this event. While spending the first few rounds of drinks mostly out of the way, the sight of a playful Prince Dhraegon has brought her out of the shadows and there she is. She's used wet leaves to simulate a shaggy appearance, a little bit of corn syrp glazing them together into a rather sticky coat. She warns people not to touch, but those who do by accident or before the warning (or just to be sassy) get gooped pretty good. This, of course, entertains her, and with an otherwise discaradable leather cap sporting eye stalks made of skewered sponge mold she makes an easy guess at a slug, thanks to the gray paint all over her face and hands to blend with her clothing. Soon she's leaving a slimy trail on her approach to Dhrae, a flask in her hands.

Dhraegon's head swings slowly past the slug. He double takes and releases the poor man, who flees back into the noise and crowds of the ball. Out here are mostly trysting couples, people who have already passed out or are close to it, and a few people trying to clear their heads with a bit of night air before plunging back in. Dhraegon's slow smile gets even wider and he spreads his wings for hugs. He booms out, "Keli Belly Jelly!" He totters towards her unsteadily, his tankard at a dangerous tilt and some reddish liquid sloshing out as he sways.

No secrets around an energetic Dhrae, Keli simply braces for impact as he tuds up to her and crushes that skinny body in a hug that is welcome if not as eagerly returned. She's had her fun watching the adults be serious and do their deviltry, so now it is about just having some fun with her friend, and making sure nobody gives him the wrong kind of attention.

Dhraegon lifts her up into the hug, so they are eye to eye, "Keli belly! Been shur…searching ev'where fryou!" he doesn't manage to crush her, though his hug is rather tighter than he likely intends. He swings her up on his shoulders, trusting her to grab hold, and says with an attempt at dignity in tone, "Ishall be your shsteed! Steed!" He lifts his tankard as if in toast, and takes a deep drink, taking several involuntary steps sideways and having to grab a pillar to stay upright. "Missed you! Told everyone the cos…outfit was your idea. Clever, clever Keli belly!"

"Whoa! Whoa, whuhh," she says, her ever-present daggers uh, not present about her hips and the little girl admirably sober for all the debauchery around them. She worms and wiggles, then takes the dubious perch, snickering. "Thank you for telling about me, it makes me feel special," she warmly says, giving him a few hopefully sooting pets over that hot noggin.

Dhraegon leans against the pillar, "I like pats." He likely thinks he's whispering the next bit from his tone, but odds are they acan here him in the stable. "You're a good fren, Shadow Claw. If you weren't Eonn's daughter, I'd adopt you." He sighs, and says sadly. "Met her. She's nice. Too nice for me. Ought to marry Del…." He takes another gulp from his tankard to cheer himself up. It seems to work, "Where to, Keli Belly?"

"I guess we could go to a balcony or somwhere, cool you down a little. My costume is starting to melt. I might just change out of it soon," the sticky-outfit-clad girl says, feeling bad already for the goop that might be sticking to or seeping into Dhrae's armor.

Dhraegon peers upward, squinting in an atempt to see his balcony. "That is a really long climb…." Given that he's dressed all in feathers, this time as a phoenix rather than a rooster, what with the occasion being fancy, Keli is likely wearing feathers too now. He giggles a particularly unhinged giggle and heads towards a bench up against an ivy covered wall.

"Maybe just out on the back steps, then," the girl rather wary of him negotiating anything more than a few paces up or down - preferably keeping that to places with hand rails. "Have you had a bite of food lately? Do you want something to eat on the way? I can hop down and get it for you so you don't ruffle your feathers."

Dhraegon nods wisely and changes direction. He has the wall to lean on most of the way. The stairs are a conundrum. After some thought he offers her his tankard, "Hol'this?" Apparently he's been drinking strawberry wine out of an oversized ale tankard. He faces the railing, clutching it with both hands and goes sideways. He traces a zig zag path towards a large refreshment table the servants have been keeping stocked with nibbles. He stumbles to a stop in front of it, swaying like a tall tree in high winds. "You're a good one, Keli Jelly."

"The belly is always wise enough to keep itself fed," the child shares. "Hopping down with a few sticky feather thefts, she starts to help herself to delicious food. Cheeks full, she says to him, drink still carefully guarded under one arm, "I heard that some people are worried about all the festivals being too tempting to the Stranger. Do you think that could happen? I know the Stranger means a lot of things. Sometimes death or sickness." Well there's something cheerful to think about - but at least it isn't ladies.

Dhraegon thinks a while about his answer. When he does speak, he speaks very slowly, carefully pronouncing the syllables, his forehead scrunched up with the effort at sense. "The Septerns say the festival is meant to appease the stranger and turn away death. Let's hope…let's hope it works. I'd don't want there to be War and Sickness is worse." He goes to pat her head and gets her shoulder instead, having to take a lot of little steps since this throws him off balance. He gets that blank look he often gets and says in a rather small childlike voice, "I'm, scared, Del…"

Even though it means more of her goopy costume might stick to his hand, she pats her little fingers over the back of his hand. "Maybe tomorrow you can worry, but tonight, please have treats? I will come back to the manse with you when you are ready, and we will stay up until we are sleepy, then we can wake up together and have breakfast and when we are rested, then we can talk about out worries? On full tummies and rested heads?" Her face gives him the tenderest bit of guidance instead of this being a request.

Dhraegon's hands are plenty sticky already, having been at the jam cakes at various points during the party and having sloshed wine on his hands on top of that. He comes back from wherever he was and focuses in on her, his big silly smile returning. "There a tree with low branches like a tent! Les..Let's steal provisions and pretend we are camping? Please? I…I feel safer in gardens. that's where…. after the cart."

"Absolutely," Keli assures him, casually snatching a basket from the tabletop and stuffing it full of her favorite things. "That is a very good idea. And we can make up stores and tell them to each other as we go along," she eagerl encourages, hiding under the umbrella of Princely escort for her brazen foodsnatchery. To her credit, the ex-urchi is fast and efficient at it.

Dhraegon giggles happily the dark mood of moments ago already forgotten. He does snatch up a bottle of rum on his own account, because what bad could possbly come of mixing, right? He clutches the bottle to his chest is if he's afraid it will be snatched. "I like stories. It'll be an expo… a Quest." More man-titters. "You're a good, good frie'Keli. Like you. Wish you'r'my daughter." He may be an unsteady guard for the food snatching, but this is his party and the guards are not watching to get in hugging range anyway. He starts to sing what appears to be a lullaby in a foreign language, even off key and sung by a man doing the trying to stay upright dance there is a haunting quality to it. The lurte player, not wanting to offend a Prince stops playing and quitely scarpers for a less political dangerous place to play.

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