(Open) Between the velvet lies

[DioBrando]

Dio sat with his arms crossed in the back of the carriage he had been assigned by that damnable demon Mr.Prinolopy, the cushioned velvet seats and gloriously filigreed interior a statement to just how insanely wealthy that demon and his associates were, and normally this would have inspired some measure of respect in Dio. However, he knew what type of men were involved in that group. All of them were deceitful demons who used what little power that they had been born with to brow beat others into doing their work, and while normally Dio was fine with that they had made the mistake of doing it to him. Thus, every single one of their accomplishments was like a slap in the face to Dio, a reminder of how new and comparatively powerless he had been even in the social arena when compared to those damnable monsters.

His mind was impacted far more however by the presence of that arrow from before, he had felt it pierce his heart and drive it's way through his body. He had felt a hand that appear from nothing and work with his own to pull it out, and most shocking of all it hadn't left so much as a scar on his flesh from the very second he had pulled it out. Now, vanishing wounds were something Dio was absolutely no stranger to, when he dined on blood he found that his regenerative abilities were far more effective, but in that moment he had been completely alone aside from that mysterious presence, that same presence that he felt watching him even now. In his blackened, dead, heart he swore that he would figure out the secrets of what had happened then, and he would find the person who would dare torment him this way and ensure that they would endure a torture 10000 times worse than any they had ever imagined for him.

However, Dio knew that this was just the start for him, and that to take that revenge he would need to acquire knowledge and power. He'd spoken to the carriage driver on the issue of primes and of the noted ones in the area, and had even managed to get the skeleton to speak about a man named Shang Tsung, a powerful individual who'd earned notoriety with their enemies in Darkshire, a man who specialized in the manipulation of souls. Such techniques were indeed fearsome when used against the right kind of undead, after all, Dio himself was unsure as to whether he had a soul or not as he was now, but he did know that hearing tales of this man's power and his adventure that Shang Tsung would at the very least be not a single whit weaker than himself. A fact that Dio lamented, in this world he had suffered many a set back, however coming here had brought with it a limitless potential for growth, every day he had felt the Omnilium surge more and more in his veins, in fact the difference between just his arrival and his current self was nearly a half again increase in the Omnilium he had at his disposal.

This introspection on the situation helped him pass the time as the carriage rolled through the country side, the territory and power of the men Dio was now working for quite apparent in how not even the local monsters dared to attempt to come near it, in fact, the only marks on the path at all were a set of wagon wheel ruts that were carved into the road. Even the immediate trees had been cleared from the side of the path and as they would get closer and closer to the manor Dio would see proper paving along this path, the transition from the rough dirt road to a paved road a dramatic one as an audible thump would bounce the carriage nearly a full foot off the ground, the Skeleton Driver only barely managing to reign in the nightmares with a crack of the shimmering whip the man carried at his hip, a crackle of hellfire followed by a deafening crack as he'd reign in the hell horses and direct them down the path towards the Manor.

looked down at the manor he had been so dutifully assigned to, his eyes tracing over the graceful hills that surrounded it on either side, the pale white Casablanca lilies that bloomed under the moonlight truly a wonder to behold. Even Dio had never beheld such an arrangement in all his years, the blood red flowers that occupied each crest on the hill and a single row down either side giving each hill the appearance of a gaping, bleeding, wound. Dio was truly stunned, his face frozen in an expression of admiration that such a powerful statement could be created with nothing but flowers. Something normally so fragile and delicate becoming a warning that would scare off even the likes of a dragon, all while maintaining that all too delicate aurora of art that was necessary to hold events as sophisticated as a masquerade. Yet this wonderment passed as soon as Dio was reminded of why he had been brought to this place.

Yes, in spite of this places beauty it's only practical value was to win the favor of the various nobles who had been invited to the Masquerade, the invitations going as far out as some of the upper tiers of Coruscant, and judging by the splendor that had been prepared for the exterior of the castle Dio knew that many invitees who would normally avoid associating with the likes of Dracula's forces would come here in droves to catch a glimpse of the terrifying splendor that was this manor.

Dio would walk down the path, arms crossed as he'd compose himself. He was about to meet with those insignificant enough to be considered the "Servants" of this place, as a leader he understood that one had to appear indomitable to lead vampires and the undead, but even more than that one had to be a figure that was feared. To be larger than life, to make someone think "Master Dio is a profound being beyond my reasoning", and "To oppose Lord Dio means a fate worse than death!" were the ideal states of leadership even among smaller positions like these. Thus as he'd enter he'd survey the entrance hall taking note of the fact that the banners in the entry hall were faded, that cob webs adorned every corner, and that the floor he was walking on was very unwaxed,

This was absolutely unacceptable! This kind of travesty wasn't even fit for a garden party let alone the kind of Masquerade that Dio would allow his name to be associated with, and at the thought of being so shamed by an inadequate delivery Dio would scream out into the hall, his voice carrying far as he would state loudly, every servant in every corner of The Manor being introduced to their new master with a shout that shook the very foundations of the building.

"ALL SERVANTS TO THE ENTRANCE HALL, COOKS, CHEFS, GUARDS, AND HOUSE ATTENDANTS ARE TO APPEAR BEFORE ME NOW FOR SUMMARY DISCIPLINE!"

The clamor of the servants could be heard even outside the manor, never before had they had a master introduce himself this way. As servants of the normally jolly, dottering, Mr.Prinopoly they had grown quite lax in their management of the estate, the dottering old man only ever punishing them if they didn't do something they had been directly ordered to do by the master himself. However today, in just a blink of an eye they had been ordered to appear for discipline the moment The host had arrived on the scene, just what kind of tyrannical overlord was that guy?!

The ones who came dilligently and reported for duty were treated with a nod from Dio before he'd order them to extend their hands, turning back to the coachman who had been driving his carriage and extending his hand. Dio would wait for a few moments, his gaze commanding, his mere presence enough to make the coachman sweat beads. This was no ordinary man after all, this was a man who had been personally chosen by the estate master, and a servant of Dracula himself. Being a member of Dracula's army he had heard of the terrible fates that awaited those that didn't understand the orders given, examining himself he would look down to see he had the whip still attached to his belt. Now he understood, surely with the context provided here Lord Dio was merely asking for his whip to enact discipline on the servants who had let the estate fall into such a state. The coachman would hand over the shimmering whip with a sigh of relief, knowing that he may have dodged the much more severe bullet of being made an example of.

Dio would smirk as he tested the whip, giving it a firm crack against the ground before he'd look over at each and every one of the servants, many seemed to be dressed in strange attire for undead maids, a mummy with a pair of cat ears in a maid outfit, a vampire who bore the bratty demeanor of a child wearing a chefs apron, and an elderly head butler who displayed the proud aura of nobility without so much as one whit of competence to his name. Seeing them, Dio would scowl he had never seen such an incompetent bunch of vagabonds, each and every one of them a disgrace to the splendor that the grounds were kept in, and absolutely none of them worthy to work under one such as he!

Advancing he'd crack the whip against the ground, the sound causing the maid and the chef to wince painfully. Dio chuckling as he gauged their reactions, this bunch was really far too soft. Perhaps that why he had recruited him? Dio would chuckle at the thought, that monster Mr.Prinopoly was a beast that surpassed even Dio in cunning, so he had no doubt that he knew that he had recruited someone who he knew was completely fine with even torturing those who refused to follow orders so that he wouldn't have to. An effective strategy that kept his position as the dottering old master who's kind to his own intact while handling the issue of their laziness. Even if Dio hated that old man, he understood the thought process behind wanting to restore an old home to glory. This place didn't seem too different from the Joestar mansion he had grown up in himself, a strange feeling of nostalgia washing over Dio as memories of the moment he had killed George Joestar came to mind, how that dottering old fool had caused so much trouble with something as worthless as his life was truly a mystery to Dio, but in the end he had obtained Johnathon's body so in some ways he supposed it was fate that he ended up here, a place so similar to where he had cast off his humanity.

First he would advance towards the cool skeletal butler first, he was the man in charge of the mummy maid that currently shifted nervously beside him, the expression hidden behind her bandages doubtlessly one filled with fear as Dio would stare that regal looking skeleton in the eye, a moment of silence passing between the two. On one side an intimidating vampire who had been assigned the position of host for the upcoming masquerade, and the other a unshaken master of the servants. They both knew what was about to go down, and between the two there was an invisible clash of wills, both daring the other to make the first move.
Unfortunately for the Skeletal Butler he was not dealing with a man who held a single shred of compassion or mercy in his heart, Dio was a man who felt not the tiniest bit of empathy for anyone but himself, a truly self composed being.

A self composed being that raised the shimmering whip and brought it down across the skeletal butlers front, bringing it down across the suit the being wore, a terrifying scream coming from the butler as his bones were seared by the essence of the lash. This was no ordinary whip Dio had taken from the carriage driver, it was a whip that was intended to drive Nightmares, demonic beasts with a hide tougher than steel, and while The Head Butler of the estate was a venerable skeleton who's kind were traditionally resistant to such measures even the hardened bone of his body felt a searing pain when the whip was brought across it, the agony forcing the skeleton to a knee, his teeth grit hard enough that an audible clack could be heard as he did so. All the while Dio would look down remorselessly at the injuired butler, the whip cracking against the ground again as Dio would say.

"Now then, do you understand why I, Dio, have done this to you? Why I have called all of you here for punishment the moment I came to this building after only the briefest of moments?"

He'd say, waiting a moment as he'd turn his gaze on the others present. The vampire girl looking at him as if he were some kind of digusting monster, meanwhile the head maid was busy leaning down to try and repair the suit of the skeleton that had been whipped, swift hands mending the garment before his eyes, telling Dio that while these people were capable this was an issue of motivation. It was likely that this manor hadn't seen any visitors in well over a century, and in their duties they had grown complacent with what their master would merely not complain about. That changed today. Leaning down Dio would grab the Skeleton's head angling it up to look Dio directly in the eyes as he would speak.

"You are incompetent trash, that I have been contracted by your master to handle a group like you means that you have not only fallen gravely behind on your duties but you have forgotten your place as servants. You serve because you are weak, you are weak because you settled for serving in a world where the only merits are strength. Look at this place! The filth that coats the bannisters, the faded tapestries that hang from the walls, and the unwaxed floors all demonstrate the lack luster performance that you are capable of when you are left to your own devices.

Thus it falls to I, DIO, will be whipping you back into shape. Both literally and figuratively. From me there will be no mercy, either the job will be completed to the absolute pinnacle of perfection or you will be punished. The event that will be held here in the coming day will be the most grand Masquerade the Pale Moors have ever seen.

With that out of the way now I will introduce myself. I am Dio Brando. The man hand picked by your Master Mr.Prinoply to host The Masquerade here in a the coming day, however, as I have stated this place is far and beyond in no shape for us to even dream of hosting one worthy of my name. Thus, I will be expecting you all to report in an hour with a list of the following things.

1: A list of our food stocks, we will be entertaining guests from everywhere. This means we must be prepared for everyone. All of them will be nobility, and each and every one of them will be expecting a peerless experience. I will remind you as well that this Masquerade is for the sake of proving that we in The Pale Moors are not just mindless Dogs looking for our next piece of meat, but that The Army of Dracula is a force that can be allied with or served under. I am not content with the reputation of being a starving beast looking for his daily feast. Thus every meal prepared will only use the highest quality ingredients.

2. These floors will be waxed, those tapestries replaced, and the windows will shine! The state of disrepair this place has fallen to is absolutely unforgivable! If I were allowed to I would kill you to save myself the shame of directing such a stupid, useless, crew.

3. We are going to train you all to receive guests in a dignified manner. I have no doubt that you were made aware of my coming yet when I arrived I had to scream for a servant to appear, this is an unacceptable standard. As servants of nobility you are provided with a place to live and tasks you must complete in order to keep this place. Thus, I will be assigning you all 2 hours etiquette re-training under the only one of you who kept their composure through this whole event. Ms.Maid, youy are the new head of the servants staff."

He'd say, turning towards the stairs, confident that he had left quite the impression on the staff, shaping him from the new harsh master into a demon that definitely couldn't be defied, a man of impeccable taste and perfectionist standards. If they knew that they were now working under a master who was this harsh over simple things like cleaning and greeting, then he also knew that they wouldn't be nearly so foolish as to attempt to ruin the main event itself. Dio walking down the hallway as he'd search for the master bedroom before taking his reprieve for the morning as the sun would raise outside.

As Dio would slumber, the supreme enemy of the vampires rising over the horizon, the servants would have a hushed discussion. The vampire chef girl pouting as he'd look at the state of the skeletal butler, the former head of the servants standing as The Mummy Maid would finishing repairing the jacket of his suit, the Skeleton straightening it out as he'd say.

"Well I never! This kind of master is absolutely terrible, a man with no remorse and the heart of a demon. Why would Mr.Prinopoly trust a man like that to host the first Masquerade the house has hosted in a century?! To go so far as to demote me over the faded state of the banners.. we'd only be made aware of his arrival mere minutes before he walked into the door shouting like some kind of banshee."

He'd say, a hand over his chest where his bones still ached from the earlier lashing. Unlike primes or humans skeletons didn't have very good natural healing, so that scar that Dio had left on his bones would likely cause him grief for many days to come, but as a distinguished butler of the House he had no intent of allowing himself anything more than this. Meanwhile, The Vampire girl would yawn, normally this time was when she would sleep as well, but with the black out curtains drawn she was still able to take part in this conversation, a part that would begin with her stating loudly to her fellow servants.

"What an idiot! Getting so upset over something simple like that, he should have known that we wouldn't leave this place like this, we just hadn't had time to prepare! To go so far as to strike even you, The Head Butler of the house that asshole really has a lot of nerve. That Bastard better consider himself lucky that he didn't hit me like that or I would've put him on my chopping block like the last guy who dared to raise a hand to me."


She said, a demonic aura seeming to manifest around her, the darkness seeming to focus around her now gleaming red eyes as a meat cleaver would seemingly appear from no where, but this aura was quelled when The Mummy would speak, a soft voice coming from behind those bandages.

"No! You must not speak ill of one directed by master to prepare this place for The Masquerade here in only a single day. This place has fallen into disrepair, and while I believe he was overly harsh in his use of the holy whip on an undead like Mr.Reaves, I cannot fault him for being angry. While it is true that he is cold, and even I can't seem to find a single good trait about him. He seems to be the kind of man who will invariably obtain the best possible results for any task he takes to, and while I do not agree with his methods I do believe in our master and that he wouldn't send anyone who would prepare anything less than a perfect event for his esteemed guests!

So Ceare I will ask that you ignore our new task master's obvious flaws for the sake of establishing this manor as the finest estate in The Pale Moors. Think of it not as following his orders but as a way to build your own reputation. After all, would there ever be another chance to serve so many prestigious guests?

If we do well here, at this time, then we will undoubtedly ascend the ranks of being mere servants, and attain a prestige that we could never hope to gain merely maintaining the estate!"

She'd say bowing deeply towards her companions, the mummy maid's bandages dangling as beneath them she would sweat beads, praying that she could convince their notoriously ill-behaved Chef Ceare to serve under their new warden without any exceptional incidents of misbehavior, after all, her words were not for the sake of Dio but rather out of a sincere wish to see her comrades and friends gain happiness. A trait that her friends were well aware of, and how could someone who saw a friend telling them so earnestly to do their best do anything but that? It really wasn't fair when someone so sweat asked for such things, it was simply impossible for anyone who had a single shred of empathy or compassion in their heart to refuse.

Thus, it was Ceare who cracked first, looking down her nose at the girl as he'd cross her arms and state with a "hrmph".

"Well I suppose if it's you who's asking then I can do you this favor Nerissa, but you had damn well better remember that I, The esteemed and beautiful vampire gourmet Ceare decided to do this for you, and in return I'm going to require you to make a dress to wear to the Masquerade. If I'm going to work like a dog for the next couple days I want to look my best at the event itself."

This response earned a chuckle from Nerissa, the girl covering her mouth as she realized how simple a request it was, Ceare was really just trying to save face in light of the fact that she was weak to humble people, meanwhile the head butler who had been mulling over the situation finally sighed in a defeated manner, a dry raspy chuckle escaping his skeletal maw as he would say.

"I suppose I can't refuse and save face in light of this kind of opposition, very well. Even though I hate the man I have to admit he had a good eye, he noticed every single aspect of the floor that was in disrepair, taking care to notice things that most masters gloss over does ensure that he will at the very least deliver a spectacular event that even these old bones would like to see."

Thus it was agreed, the trio shook hands before giving a "YES!" as a collective group before they'd leave to attend their various duties, The maid taking to scrubbing the floors with an unforeseen zeal, the head butler heading out to commission new tapestries for the event, and Ceare taking to the task of acquiring the freshest possible ingredients. From the hustle and bustle that now shook the manor as all manner of servants ran about preparing for the event it was clear that Dio's arrival had lit the fire under these formerly under motivated men, their discussion and the brutality with which had greeted their laziness combined with their genuine affection for their master meant that they were propelled by both a genuine desire to deliver an event that would make their demonic lord happy, and fearful of the new task master who had arrived, the drive that now inspired these men and women something far beyond simple loyalty.

In the hours Dio rested, slumbering inside a coffin that had been prepared for him as the event's host by the lord of the manor, the house down stairs was restored to the glory that a true manor should always be presented in, the floors were waxed and treated until they shone, the formerly dingy and faded tapestries were replaced with fresh ones documenting recent triumphs over the forces of Darkshire, and the kitchens were alive with the aromas of roasting meats and stews that were being prepared for the days of decadent feasting, the "Fufufufu!" of a certain chef echoing from within as the most beautiful and delicious dishes were made. All the while carriages rolled in as the servants of this manor strive to prove themselves as something greater than the useless lot the arrival had made them out to be, the fires of determination lit in their hearts.

As Dio would awake from within the velvet lined coffin he'd smirk, he knew that the demonstration had made them hate him, but at the same time the trio had doubtless love for the man who owned this manor. Any master who would let their servants slack off like this would always possess the hearts of his workers, but the results gained from such worthless things as "love", and "compassion" were of no value to one such as he. He demanded perfection, and as he would rise and see a freshly pressed and treated outfit he knew that his display had earned him the one thing the cared to have from the servants. Respect. Donning a freshly cleaned outfit Dio would affix the circlet around his brow, Dio grabbing the blank form fitting tank top from the chair, donning it as well, the form fitting fabric seeming to fit better after the small bit of tailoring that had been done to it. The jacket that followed was equally better fitting, allowing Dio to move more freely. He had been right to place a burden of responsibility on that maid, her natural talent made her a perfect candidate for leadership. Dio was a man who placed merit and skill over petty things like seniority, which only held value to those too old to be of any actual use.

Dio, now fully dressed, would open the door and proceed down the hallway. During his walk he would take immediate note of the improved condition of the rug and wall paper around him, Dio passing a group of skeleton workers who were reapplying the wallpaper to a few areas where it had started to peel, and as he would enter the junction between the upstairs rooms and the grand entrance hall his face would immediately break out into a confident smirk, what had been a dingy, destitute remnant of a manor that would have been more at home in a horror movie than hosting a manor was now a place of true brilliance, the marble floors shone with the light provided by the countless crystal lamps that shone in the chandelier above. The steps that had once been a complete travesty now greeted Dio's steps with a crimson carpet freshly applied this very day, the faded and torn carpet of the past now replaced with the extravagant rug.

As he reached the ground floor he would smile as he saw that the ragged and sun bleached tapestries had been replaced with glorious depictions of Dracula and Diablo's conquests over the lesser races, each a grim reminder that the people who owned this manor and were hosting the masquerade had won this wealth and recognition through a thousand years of conquest and battle, and as Dio would turn to look at the servants quarters he would see the heads of each household ready and there to greet him, the head butler approaching him with a platter that he would open, offering it to Dio with a bow as the butler would say.

"This is the specialty dish that our master chef Caere has prepared for the vampiric guests, a stew prepared using a blood roux, with a cut of delicate filet mignon in a red wine sauce."

Dio would nod and receive the sample of one of the dishes gracefully, swirling the wine to bring out the aroma of the wine, inhaling a bit as he'd take a sip of the fine wine, enjoying the flavor. Ah, the benefits of being a stone mask vampire, one got to enjoy all the benefits of continuing to have taste buds and avoiding petty weaknesses like religious symbols all the while maintaining the same power that the vampires of myth had and more. Dio's bit of narcissism aside he did truly enjoy the wine, and as he'd sample the blood soup that was to be the appetizer for the vampiric guests he found himself immersed in a blend of flavors that made the previous wine seem like ash in his mouth. That followed by the filet mignon was a taste that could only be defined as an experience, a dish truly worthy of being served to royalty, and far in excess of what could be considered sufficient for a masquerade.

Truly, the vampire chef Ceare was a talented individual, though he hadn't sampled the cooking before issuing the orders Dio understood that unless he had motivated them all with the prior display of ruthlessness that they would have never obtained results like these. This passing thought was interrupted by Nerissa advancing towards Dio, a suit and jacket combo being present to him. The maid standing straight up once it was in Dio's hands, the vampire feeling the delicate fabric for a moment and understanding that this was a suit that even The Joestars would have been envious of, carefully woven out of the finest thread and tailored perfectly. To be able to do this just from seeing him was truly an affirmation of the talent he had seen in her, and to call her anything less than a genius tailor would simply be an insult.

"This is an ensemble created with your muscular frame in mind sir, normal untailored suits wouldn't allow you to dance comfortably, so once I was through with today's house chores I took the liberty or preparing an outfit for you to wear to the ball, and as the host of our master's most prestigious masquerade I simply couldn't allow you to have anything other than the finest attire for this occasion!"

She said, standing really stiff, as if she were a soldier at attention the dainty looking Narcissa's voice carrying throughout the hallway, and even the cold hearted Dio had to chuckle at such an earnest display. She would make an excellent servant if he could recruit her, though he couldn't afford to allow her to become as lazy as she was here working under this man it would definitely be in his best interests if he could get her to manage his own estate once he had played the political game long enough to have obtained one.

However, even to the cold and distant Dio the servants had definitely proven themselves, so much in fact that there was only one thing left to do. Dio would smile as he'd finish off the glass of wine that had been presented to him, resting the glass on the platter he had been presented before he'd address the servants properly, his voice filled with the pride of a man who had orchestrated a master piece through the force of his own personality, or well, at the very least thought he did.

"Good, these preparations are indeed up to the standards of even I, Dio. If this were to be served in my own manor I would be proud to welcome the guests of any world into my home. Thus, it is with great pride that I now order you to send messengers to every major kingdom, tonight. The Masquerade begins, and that I, DIO, will be hosting this most prestigious of events!"

He'd say, gesturing with his hand in a slicing motion the universal signal for dismissal among any crew, the servants dispersing to go and carry out the will of their task master, each heading out towards a different section of the manor in order to meet with the skeletal and zombie messengers, couriers running throughout the land to deliver the message that the masquerade was to be held starting tonight, and that the event itself would extend throughout the week with any noble comers welcome from any verse, and that Primes of any verse would be welcomed with the same respect they'd afford the nobility. Dio knew that adding guests to a list this late was likely a completely losing battle, but his goal was not so simple as merely hosting a masquerade, he was here to make allies and accrue power within this realm. The party was merely a pretense for his own goals, because even though he had been brow beaten into hosting this event by a certain demonic bastard he was not one to waste an opportunity.

Watching the servants take their leave Dio would turn towards the room once more, walking up the stairs and down the hallway to his room. There he would change out of his traditional outfit into the tailored suit and jacket combo, the pleated dress pants he wore completing the outfit, and as Dio would look over at the standing mirror and there he would see the powerfully built symbol of nobility, his arrogant demeanor and his statuesque features giving the the appearance of a King looking down on his subjects.

Now properly attired Dio would go down the stairs, and as he would pass the servants he would alert them to be ready for the coming guests. Tonight was indeed the night that the Masquerade was scheduled, and as the servants would align themselves in an arc up the stairs Dio would stand in the center, looking down as the first of the officially invited guests would arrive. Dio chuckling inwardly as he'd see them all received graciously at the door, hearing the first notes of orchestral music fill the hallway, the sound of violins filling his ears as the band would begin it's performance in time with the guests arrival. A perfectly orchestrated event by a perfect being, and as he'd smile and receive the first of the guests he would announce loudly to the incoming guests, his voice as boisterous and full of pride as he can make it.

"I, the esteemed Dio Brando am proud to welcome you all to The Masquerade. If you will don your masks at the door I will be happy to show you all to the dance floor were we have a most prestigious occasion prepared for you all."

He would say as he'd don his own mask, the golden furred wolf mask an indicator of who the predator was tonight, all the masks made available to the mere human guests were that of prey animals and other such herbivorous beasts, a statement that Dio intended to make to those who were not allied with Dracula, that they were simply targets, and an invitation to Primes and allies that they were the powerful, and that it would be they that would control this world. However, this metaphorical statement seemed to be lost on most as the guests took it to be a pairing theme tied into the cycle of life, where a prey would dance with a predator, Dio chuckling as he'd overhear a pair of invited Nobles commenting on the beauty of the theme and how it encouraged people to find dance partners.

As he'd advance down the stairs he would take the hand of a particularly lavishly dressed Noble Zombie lady and guide her over towards the prepared feasting table, Dio laughing and playing the game, all the while smirking devilishly within knowing that every word and bit of praise he earned tonight would put him one step closer to absolute power in The Pale Moors.

[Drogon]

(OOC: This first bit all happens before arriving at the party; feel free to skip to the next bolded spot for everything that happens IN the party.)

Aang was starting to regret having passed up on the hospitality of the family he'd left only hours before. It seemed the nap he'd taken before his initial encounter with Diane was shorter than he'd imagined; it was still very much the middle of the night, at least in Camelot, and exhaustion from the previous day was beginning to set in. He had been walking along the edge of the Nexus for the last hour and a half after traversing the gate, and the harsh white sameness of it all seemed to have been seared onto his retinas ever since he'd stepped out of the darkened nighttime Camelot. The effect of this added visual fatigue to the physical fatigue already present, and Aang was beginning to feel rather zombie-ish. Which was fitting, considering his destination.

Aang was headed for the Pale Moors, the gate to which seemed close ahead. Of course, it had seemed close ahead for the last half-hour because the lack of a horizon and unchanging ground in this place, so that didn't mean much. From his various inquisitions on the way, Aang had picked up that the Pale Moors were home to all forms of grotesque nightmares, headed by the apparently infamous Dracula, most powerful of a species known for drinking human blood. Yes, it was a grisly destination, but in the knowledge that he'd have to go there to meet the man who would likely be his gateway to finding masters to teach him bending of other elements, Aang trekked onwards to the gate.

In a few minutes, he was there. The giant, dull grey rocks arching ominously over the gate told him he’d picked the right one - No other verse had so depressing a premise, and therefore an entrance, as the one standing before him. “Oy! You goin’ in or not?” Apparently, Aang had been standing in front of the intimidating structure for longer than he realized.

“Yeah, sorry. Just tired.” Aang turned around to reveal a rather short green creature, alone, standing as a hunchback and with ears and a nose of disproportionately large proportions.

“No need’a gawk, eh? ‘S rude. Though I spose if yer new and where yer from there arn’ goblins like meself, it only makes sense. Really though, kid, I’m on a schedule ‘ere.”

“Right, right. Goblin? Huh. I’m Aang. What’s your name?”

“Hrm. R’texum. You’s not so bad, kid. C’mon, ya ever been to da Pale Mooahs before? Must be goin’ to dat fancy paahty Dio man’s puttin’ on. Look, I’ll show ya ‘round, if ya’d like.”

“Oh! Nice to meet you Rrr...extum? But, no thanks, I need to find an inn or something to sleep in for a bit before going to that party. I’m pretty pooped.”

[color=#008000]“Close enough. And, yeah, yeah, I can getcha into an inn. Might be haahd in Daahkshiah this time a’ night. C’mon, I’ll show ya there.”

The unlikely companions stepped through the portal. Aang wasn’t entirely sure he trusted this “goblin,” but figured if anything went sour he could ditch him at the inn and find somewhere else to sleep. Upon arriving in Darkshire, it was suddenly very obvious that the doomy descriptions of the place were not at all amiss. It was nighttime, yes, but not a single star shone in the sky, for dark-brown clouds were all to be seen in the air. Dreary shacks and shops lay half in shambles about the square in which the portal to the Nexus was hosted, threatening to close in on the new arrivals just as their doors remained tightly closed in on their residents. This town was like a cornered boar-q-pine: It was obviously very scared, scared of something, and since it had nowhere to go, it was being forced to fight back, even if that meant probably scaring off potential allies.

“Taken it in yet, kid? Ain’t it neat? Anyway, only one place what’ll take ya in this time o’ night. You’ll be wantin’ the Shroudmare Inn.”

The two of them walked a few blocks from where they’d appeared in the plaza, eventually spotting a dingy, dangling wooden sign labelling the aforementioned establishment. “You go on in. I’d best be gettin’ off with meself. Folk round ‘ere don’t much like my kind, and for good reason, too. I’ll… See ya ‘round, Aang.” Before Aang could say anything in return, the goblin had disappeared. He turned back around to face the Inn, and knocked.

“Who is it?”

“Uh, my name’s Aang. I just need somewhere to sleep for the night.”

“Sounds human.” A tiny latch near the top of the door popped open, and an eye leered down at him from above. “Looks human. You human?”

“Yes? I mean, I think so.” Aang glanced down at his arms. Yup, still people arms.

The door swung out, nearly catching Aang in the face, and a hand shot out, pulling Aang into the building and closing the door in a single swoop. A grisly, plump woman and a tall, emaciated man stood examining him - the hand seemed to belong to the woman - for a minute. “Teeth?” He showed them. The two glanced at eachother, nodded, and let go of Aang’s robes.

“Sorry about that, kid, we’ve just been getting lots of… dangerous visitors around here lately. Your room’ll be first on the left after the second flight,” a woman hand gestured dismissively, “and you’re obviously a new prime, you can make yourself food if you want.” And with that, the two strange hosts ambled back over to the bar where more than a few grizzled travelers sat, glaring, their orders having been set back by Aang’s untimely arrival. “I’ll… just be heading on up then.” The patrons averted their gazes, and Aang scurried up the stairs and into what must have been 10 square feet of space and a straw “bed” to the side. Ah, no big deal, he’d slept on worse on his travels.

Circulating the air between the straw bits, Aang checked for bugs. None. Impressive. He set his glider on the floor and hopped onto the bed. He always slept in his clothes; after all, it was the quickest way to get going in the morning. Soon, the troubles of the day were gone, and he was sound asleep.

Dizziness. Aang was spinning, the world was spinning and waving, various shades of purple and green, waving, intertwined, spinning. A roar in the distance, but it was barely audible because of the static, the moaning, the high-pitched bugle spraying about a single note eternally - And then in the distance, a streak of red, a different distance now, of course, still spinning. Closer, closer and the red hit Aang’s arm, now pain. Only a little, less than there should’ve been, but more red streaks now, out in that wavey field of green, purple - all closer, and all scrapes, flowing gently, harshly through an arm or a neck or a foot, just a gash, just a little pain. And then it all stopped. The spinning, the waving, the red. The green settled into a dirt floor interspersed with weeds, the purple into cave walls, and Aang was lying on the ground, unable to move, there should’ve been pain but there wasn’t much, but that was why he couldn’t get up, was because of the reds, the gashes, the pain. He turned up his head, and there stood a great beast, crying out in mourning, giant red tongue coming down for the red and absorbing it, it was healing him, it was making the gashes disappear.

Suddenly, there was clarity. Above him stood Appa, the great flying bison, Aang’s friend from the beginning, and outside of the cave there were flames. He could now feel the heat, he knew now those weren’t gashes, they were burns, there had been an attack, and Appa had carried him away, had hid him, had saved him. And in that moment, Aang knew. Aang knew that Appa was okay, that Appa would be okay without him, and that they would finally see each other again, someday. Now, he could continue travelling, could wait in peace, because it was assured.

Appa will be okay, and I will get to see him again.

Aang awoke with a start. He remembered the whole thing vividly. A smile came to his face, and he hopped up, grabbed his glider, and flew down the stairs and out the door.

His smile barely faded when he burst into the street to see that it wasn’t actually that much more active in the daytime. Neither was the sky, to be fair - it was still gloomier than most places’ nights, albeit a bit brighter than it had been upon his arrival. Aang jumped up on the roof, and gave a scout about. It seemed to be about midday already, based on the lighting, and Aang had some traveling to do. The town was small, much smaller than it had seemed the previous night in the dark and from the ground. He pulled the flyer out of his pocket, feeling and making sure that the pouch and ring were still in said pocket, and checked the directions on the back. “Follow the main road out of town,” and then he was to to turn off after a bit and follow a rutted dirt path the rest of the way to the mansion. Doable. Glancing out to the far edges of the town, it was rather obvious which way to head in accordance with the directions on the flyer, but it was at the other end of town from the street housing the Shroudmare. No big deal, he could make a shortcut. Leaping diagonally into the air towards the road, Aang unfolded his glider, allowing himself to float across the tops of buildings for a good half of the way to the edge of the town before having to land on the road. Already pumped from his dream and not willing to let his day be dampened any further, Aang hopped onto an air scooter and, to the bemused glances of most of his passersby, skated out of town with a “Whee!”

[brief intermission, insert elevator music here]

The air scooter had been tiring after twenty minutes or so, so Aang was now just walking along the increasingly-less-well-beaten “main road,” as it were. He’d seen one or two small parties headed back along the way, but more that he’d passed up going in the same direction. Headed to the same place, presumably? Maybe. The unsettling thing was that he hadn’t actually yet seen any of the creepy-crawlies that he’d been so frequently warned were common around these parts. Up ahead, he noticed a fork to the right that sounded, at least in theory, like the one described on the invitation. He again pulled it out of his pocket. “Really, it’s the only one of its sort within quite a distance, you can’t miss it.” Helpful. Well, this must be it then.

As soon as Aang stepped off the main road and onto the smaller path, his surroundings instantly became darker and, well, spookier. Well, that was unsettling. He briefly considered turning back, but then remembered his promise to the Brownings, and forced himself to step forward and continue on the increasingly-fishy side path. If anything came up, he could always fly away on his air scooter, or just plain run.

The path bordered an ominous black wood on one side, but to the other there was nothing but grass, and vast, sweeping fields of it. It had rustled suspiciously a few times, but any bad feelings Aang had had of the field were cleared by using the wind to his advantage to flatten the grass and check for anything that might be watching him. Each time he’d come up empty. That strategy didn’t help much on the right, though, what with the murky woods and all. After a few hours of walking, interspersed lightly with brief bursts of air scooter-riding when the woods felt a bit too much like they were eyeing him as a dinner prospect, the woods gave to a wide clearing on the right, while on the left the wide-open fields gave way to an endless expanse of trees, with the effect of the path essentially ending nestled in an enclave in this small corner of deforestation, with a giant mansion plopped down right in the middle and a few smaller buildings off to its sides. It would’ve been scenic, really, had it not been starting to get dark and had the woods not already made him jittery enough during the day.

Aang approached the front of the mansion, which sported a ludicrously large set of double-doors attended by a lone man in a mask to the side accompanied by two piles of what appeared to be animal masks. Some of them seemed to even have actual animal fur plastered on the front. Aang would be making sure to try and avoid those.

“Excuse me, sir? Is this the entrance to the party?”

The doorman looked down at Aang with disdain. “The masquerade, my young fellow. I assume you must be a prime, trying to get in for free and without distinguishing jewelry of any sort? In that case, you’ll be able to summon up” - a sweeping wave from the left hand - “something… worthy of being seen inside. And clean yourself up while you’re at it. You may use the barn.” He pointed off to the right of the house to one of the smaller buildings, which looked more like a stable than anything, but seemed to house no animals. Odd.

Aang gave the doorkeep an internal raspberry, then jogged over to the stable. There really WAS nothing here - but for the sake of his dignity, he ran around back where any other arrivals wouldn’t see him changing. He HAD completely forgotten about the invitation’s “nice clothes” clause. Thinking for a minute, he began to summon his best memory of an Earth kingdom noble’s garb in his size.

By the time it was finished, a few other guests had arrived and there was a short queue at the door. No matter how many times he tried, there was just something about it that felt… Off. Oh well, it would probably at least get him in. Aang quickly removed his travel garb, airbrushed off most of the day’s accumulated sweat and dirt, and equipped his new outfit. It fit fine, at least, and was pretty light. He began walking back to the party, almost forgetting to jog back and reacquire the invitation and the all-important ringpouch. Deconstructing his standard garb to be remade again later, he hopped out into the open and into the line at the door.

The individual and two couples in front of him quickly were admitted, leaving him again to stand before the doorkeeper. Peering down at him again, this time the door guy nodded. “Approved. Take this mask, and go on in.” Aang was given a monkey mask - Wooden, that was a relief - and ushered through the doors as he threw it on. He was met by a small crowd in a narrow entry hall.

Suddenly, a very tall, muscular blonde man came out onto a balcony overlooking the crowd. "I, the esteemed Dio Brando, am proud to welcome you all to The Masquerade. If you will don your masks at the door I will be happy to show you all to the dance floor where we have a most prestigious occasion prepared for you all." This was met by a round of applause as Dio, who appeared to be the host of sorts, beckoned, and an even larger doorway than the first was opened in front of them to reveal the vast dance hall as he himself dramatically put on the mask of a lion.

Upon entering, Aang was taken aback by the sheer size and opulence of the scene before him. It seemed he was one of the earlier guests - That was good, as he’d have plenty of time to search for Faren. How he remembered that name so clearly, he had no clue. The dance hall in front of him stretched for what seemed an eternity in comparison with anything but perhaps the Nexus, and was being slowly populated with couples dancing for a bit to a small instrumental group in the corner, then switching partners. Aang noticed the pairings were not determined by sex, but rather more often by what masks the participants were wearing. Odd. But it seemed more people were wearing the slightly simpler version that Aang also had, so perhaps the other mask style was a privilege granted to paying entrants. Though, Aang didn’t see anyone in purple, so Faren must not have arrived yet.

Upon wandering the edges of the floor for a while, Aang encountered a sort of buffet area accompanied by a small grove of tables, presumably for eating or resting between dances. Grabbing a plate, Aang zipped straight for the sweets, picking out a particularly enticing jam donut sort of contraption before heading over to seat himself at the closest table to the dance floor in order to catch a purple-robe-wearing masked man as he entered the hall.

[DioBrando]

Dio was a creature in it's element tonight, a naturally charismatic man who possessed all the talents one needed for courtship, flattery, and moving about in the cut throat world of nobility. To Dio whispering the sweet words and meaningless flattery that the noble women so desired from men like him was but a matter of course, many a time Dio had made a zombie maiden blush as he pointed out a minute detail in her outfit and praised it before reminding her that it paled before her own beauty.

For here, Dio was a monster that the Pale Moors had yet to see, in a world dedicated to the arts of war and in an army dedicated to slaughter they had never met someone who cared for the "Simple" things called affection and influence, here Dio won notoriety from the noble men as he talked with them about the joys of hunting and the techniques he used with a spear. You see, for compared to the bloody world of duels and assassinations that made up English nobility the Pale Moors which rarely knew a party, let alone a politically minded man possessed of great charisma, someone who seemed to care and seemed to know just the honeyed words that would delight the heart of many a maiden. Like a shark he would zero in on his targets, and exploit their every weakness, leaving blushing noble ladies and proud looking noblemen in his wake.

Indeed, Dio could be said to be more dangerous here than anywhere else. This was his arena, as a man of impossible charisma who was willing to lie and flatter any who he believed could help him, and as the host of an event that was backed by a sponsor with impossible resources it was nothing more than perfection to see Dio flow through the crowds, but even this movement wasn't random. Dio carefully chose his targets from the masses, gliding through the crowds to find a wall flower here, a displeased looking nobleman there, all targets that Dio would size up examine the few conversations they had with their friends before hand before coming in, pretending to be an interested or sympathetic party he would chat with them for a moment, feigning the pity that he never felt before moving on to the next target. A monster completely devoid of empathy and possessed of a terrifying talent for manipulation roamed the dance floors. Taking the hand of lonely maidens and treating them to a waltz with the host, passing them off to other noble men and directing the flow of the party as effortlessly as some would breathe. Decades of practice and courtship training in The Joestar Mansion he had grown up in had prepared him perfectly for this day, and with every practiced motion he would ingratiate himself towards these nobles who had never known someone so talented.

In many ways Dio was merely exercising the strategy of a successful predator in a social atmosphere, picking off the weak in the pack and devouring them for his own gain, playing on the heart strings of those too stupid to realize that they were being played for fools, that is until he reached a table with a boy in a strange green, gold, and earth tone garb. Dio chuckled as he saw the monkey masked boy, if there was ever anyone as obvious as prime it was him, and from the scent coming off of him he was entirely human as well. Sliding through the crowd like a shade he'd find a seat beside Aang, Dio looking him in the eyes as he'd say.

"Now who are you? I don't remember you being on the list of nobles, and no one around here has any human play things. Oh, but it seems I've forgotten my manners. I am Dio Brando, the host of this prestigous event, a man with peerless ambition and an eye for talent. Talent that I can see you definitely have."

He'd say chuckling once as he'd swirl a glass of blood wine, the dark red dregs of the wine swirling in the glass, the iron scent that came off it wafting towards Aang as he would oxidize the mixture before taking a sip, vampiric fangs letting Aang know just who, or perhaps rather what, was sitting beside him. The golden wolf mask that the host wore now seemed all the more appropriate, Dio chuckling for a moment before he'd speak his tone aloof and friendly.

"There's no point in hiding it, I don't even need any special powers to tell a man like you isn't from here or any verse. Those strange tattoos and your strange outfit tell me all I need to know in regards to you being a prime. Though, I would like to say that I, Dio, wish you no harm. I understand that seeing a man drinking blood has to be terrifying for someone as obviously new as you. However, tonight I'm only drinking the blood of the dead. It is after all quite bad manners for a host to try and eat his guests."

He'd say, chuckling as he'd watch Aang, gauging his reaction to his presence, seeing how he'd respond to Dio drinking blood right beside him. All his words and actions were carefully weighted, it was obvious from how Aang had been watching the door earlier that he either wanted to leave desperately or he was looking for someone here at the party, and as a Prime Dio had every intent on recruiting every last one he could. After all, in this world Omnilium was power, and while one could accrue quite a bit of it through their actions and deeds there was no better source of Omnilium than the one you never had to lift a finger to get. So, Dio had hosted this party with the goal of making him appear generous to Primes and Nobles in this land, and while his whole hand had yet to played he had no intent of letting any potential "fish" escape his net, especially not with one so vulnerable here in his den.

[Drogon]

Aang had nearly begun to doze off. While the party was lively, his task here (or rather, the way he was going about it) certainly wasn't the most entertaining of endeavors, and his lack of success so far was beginning to take its toll. It WAS getting rather late, after all. He was jolted awake, however, when the man in the Lion mask, the host as it were, locked eyes with him and took a seat at his side. Something about him stank of... Ominous...ness.

"Now who are you? I don't remember you being on the list of nobles, and no one around here has any human play things. Oh, but it seems I've forgotten my manners. I am Dio Brando, the host of this prestigous event, a man with peerless ambition and an eye for talent. Talent that I can see you definitely have."

"Human play things?" The metallic-tinged scent of Dio's drink wafted over to Aang, who took only a few short moments in determining its nature. His eyes went wide, but only until he realized that such a reaction may have negative effects on his health in the present company."Oh! So, you're one of those, uh, Dracula people, right?" Suddenly, Dio's choice of mask began to make sense - A vicious predator, intimidating, especially in the face of Aang's rather dull Monkey. A sense of dread began to slowly overcome Aang. This place was a trap. Something here was not quite right. He tensed up momentarily, but then realized that the host was still watching him. "I'm, uh, a new prime here. The invitation said we were generally welcome?"

"There's no point in hiding it, I don't even need any special powers to tell a man like you isn't from here or any verse. Those strange tattoos and your strange outfit tell me all I need to know in regards to you being a prime. Though, I would like to say that I, Dio, wish you no harm. I understand that seeing a man drinking blood has to be terrifying for someone as obviously new as you. However, tonight I'm only drinking the blood of the dead. It is after all quite bad manners for a host to try and eat his guests."

Aang froze. So he'd been right. A man - Or rather, something that looked mostly like a man - sat beside him, literally drinking the blood of the dead. Before he could think too much on THAT charming prospect, however, something caught his eye from his peripheral vision. Purple. It certainly wasn't guaranteed to be the one he was looking for, but regardless, it may give him an out from this honestly terrifying conversation. "Well, I do thank you for, er, not eating me. That's certainly appreciated." Aang tried and failed to give a light chuckle, looking more like he was choking on his jelly roll than anything. "I actually got my invitation to come here from a friend, who got it from the Mages' Guild, where... Well, it's a long story, but basically, I only knew this party was happening because an... Uh, acquaintance of mine was already coming. And I think he's just arrived! Soo, I'm going to go see if that's him. I look forward to talking to you again later!" Oh god, that was the most horribly rushed excuse to leave a conversation he'd ever made - and Aang wasn't very good at politely leaving conversations. He scurried off onto the dance floor, attempting to subtly lose Dio for a bit and find Faren to achieve his objective here. Once that was done, hopefully he could get away from this unsettling place.

Shuffling through the now-crowded dance floor, Aang periodically turned and looked back to catch whether Dio was pursuing him. He couldn't SEE him, but that meant little to none in this low-vision zone. He fingered the pouch, as well as his glider which he'd hidden in his cloak, for confidence as he traversed the noisy, hot, sweaty place searching for the man in the purple robe.

A few minutes later, and no signs of Dio OR Faren. Aang was beginning to lose hope, and was moving and searching more lethargically as time passed. There were so many guests, and many of them also seemed to look at him the same way Dio had - with the menacing subtlety of a predator scouting out its prey. The theme of the masks was now abundantly clear to the now-more-than-ever out-of-place Aang, who desired nothing more than to find his target and get out of here. He was, of course, ready to run if need be, but that would be counterproductive to his task and therefore to learning how to bend the other elements. This place was, more and more, beginning to feel distinctly evil in nature.

Aang wasn't watching where he was going. Realizing this, and that it had gotten him run into people and structures alike more than once, he forced himself to pause with the introspection and get back to finding the one he was searching for. And then, just as abruptly as he'd disappeared in the first place, there he was, the man in the purple robe, and wearing the mask of an elephant - THAT was a relief. "Faren! Is that you?" Aang called out.

The man turned to face him. "How did you know my name? I don't think I recognize you, young one."

"I was sent here, to find you. By Don Browning, he said you'd know that name?"

"Ah, yes! Good sir Don Browning. Look, I'd love to chat, but I'm in the middle of quite the entertaining dance party. Perhaps we could discuss any private matters on the road?" And with that, he sauntered back into the crowd, disappearing yet again from the poor Avatar's grasp.

Well, he had no excuses now. Aang disappointedly sauntered back to the table with his half-finished jelly roll, and where Dio had been sitting. Nothing to do at this point but try and make idle conversation (and not die in the process) while waiting for this infernal party to finally end. And yet, it had just barely begun.

[DioBrando]

Dio had initially felt some disappointment seeing the avatar go, shifting in his seat to swirl the dregs of that blood wine once again his eyes watching it pass through as he'd contemplate what went wrong. He did suppose it had been awhile since he'd associated with anyone not a monster or sociopath of some variety, and with that adjustment to the amoral he had forgotten the fears of those who considered themselves "just".

Dio scowled for a moment, he needed to obtain as many powerful allies as he could. This meant lying, this meant cheating, and this meant deceit of every manner he could employ. This kid, however naive he seemed, would at the very least prove to be an asset when it comes to fighting the forces of darkshire if he can be convinced that the undead are merely "misunderstood", and that the persecution is wrong. It was unlikely that he knew the history of this particular verse, so the notion of Diablo's armies and how The Pale Moors came to be as it was were likely mysteries to him. He also couldn't lie too blatantly about that though if it were to come up, this was a common knowledge fact and thus if he were to construct this scenario he would likely need to speak ill of Lord Dracula in order to convince this prime that at the very least siding against him would be a morally grey choice.

Perhaps the blood of the dead wasn't quite as a comforting statement as he'd thought it would be. What was the harm in taking the blood of those who had already died though? Perhaps it was some macabre issue regarding veneration for those who have passed. Though it didn't make any sense to him, Dio would definitely take this into consideration with his future approaches, one couldn't afford to be too careful in a world where Omnilium was power, and thus, to underestimate a marks worth by things like "appearance" and "Bodily strength" were in fact fools traps.

As Dio mulled over this however, he would see The Avatar find his friend in the crowd. The two of them would chat for a moment, Dio's ears not quite keen enough to make out details at this distance but he was more than capable of getting a rough estimation from lip reading, and thus, when the words "On the road" were mouthed by the man in purple a wry smirk would break out over Dio's face, Dio gesturing towards one of the servants and whispering a request in his ear. It seems that fate had chosen to favor him once again, and this time, Dio intended to make a far better impression on the young prime.

The servant would walk off towards the kitchens, an irritated blonde vampire girl shouting orders at a dozen arranged chefs. All of whom were scrambling to keep up with the sometimes strange requests of the nobles as new orders were constantly coming in. As the servant approached she initially held up a hand, and then, he mentioned he came with an order from Lord Dio. Turning to him with a frustrated expression she'd give an exasperated "What is it then?!" before the servant spoke, detailing their master's simple request, the girl sighing in relief as she'd turn to a table and cut a slice from a freshly prepared cake. The Chef would then place it on a plate before handing it back off, returning to her tasks in the kitchen with an even more irritated look on her face, the girl's thoughts clearly painted on her face, the expression of indignant rage on her face letting any who would care to look closer that she was thinking to herself "Who does that asshole think he is?".

Thus, when he sat down it would be a short few awkward moments of Aang munching on his jelly roll and Dio smirking at him from across the table, red eyes gleaming through the mask like a predator staring at a piece of prey it had trapped. That was before a servant would come by and place a slice of chocolate cake in front of Aang, Dio leaning forward and setting his glass of wine on the table with a smile as he'd say.

"I apologize, we seem to have gotten off to a bad start. I sometimes forget how sensitive humans are to blood consumption, and their veneration for those who have passed. As a vampire, to drink blood is to live for me. So naturally, I never see anything strange about it. I did try my best to maintain manners tonight by not drinking the blood of anyone who had been murdered but it seems to have still offended your sensibilities."

He'd try his best to seem non threatening, the mask helping quite a bit as he'd adjust it, the threatening gleam no longer showing through the mask. However, Dio was just naturally an imposing man, so this failed horribly as what were before red gleams were now the soulless blacks of his eyes, Dio giving a chuckle as he'd continue.

So, I arranged for our beautiful gourmet chef Ceare to prepare you a special dish. I do hope it's to your liking. Though if it's not I'd rather you not tell her. She can be a bit sensitive about her dishes."

He'd say flashing what was to all apperances a genuine smile, but within Dio scowled at this notion of "niceness". He was not however an idiot, his own personal preferences were not yet something he could enforce here. In the old world when he had chosen his compatriots from the darkest knights and the mass murderers of the world he had done so because he was confident in his ability to handle their enemy all on their own aside, but now.. even your average guard captain was capable of giving Dio a fight that he wasn't sure if he would survive. Thus, for now he would attempt the "more flies with honey" strategy with the younger kid. He would wait silently, his eyes carefully monitoring to see if Aang would accept the gift and if his manner would change at all.

[Drogon]

Aang was finally beginning to relax a bit. He was still suspicious of this Dio and the party in general, but after realizing he'd have to stay at least until Faren left, he decided to trust his instinctually good reaction time to kick in if anything went awry. Furthermore, Dio's explanation of his still-distasteful but now-understandable nature was, if not all that calming, at least a potent point in contrast with his original unease. Though, the implication remained that Dio would have no problems drinking the blood of the murdered were there not people around to watch. Either way, perhaps just conversing wouldn't be such a bad thing, at least while they were in public...

"A vampire, huh? Not a dracula? What's the difference?" The people he'd talked to in the Nexus had had all manner of terrible things to say about the Dracula, but hadn't so much as mentioned vampires. Perhaps a different, cousin-breed of undead? "Not to be rude or anything, of course, I'm just curious."

A definitively-scrumptious looking slice of chocolate cake had, as Dio had mentioned, been left on the table specifically for Aang. This, he was less likely to accept wholeheartedly. "Thanks for the cake, by the way," he said as he eyed it suspiciously, pulling it towards himself a few inches, and continued munching on the jelly roll. He wasn't quite sure that eating a dish prepared specifically for him, a vegetarian no less, by a creature that literally drank human blood was the best of ideas, let alone the fact that it could be poisoned or drugged of some sort. And since the strawberry jelly roll WAS, in fact, delicious, and even nostalgic (it reminded him of the monks at the Southern Air Temple who used to also create similar dishes), he could at least have the excuse of finishing it up first.

Aang noticed that Dio kept adjusting his mask, and each time took on a slightly different appearance, each a different apparition of "I will eat you" than the last. He'd gone through one that highlighted villainous smirks, one that made his eyes look hollow and soulless, and even one that reminded Aang of the Spider-viper, a snake that lured in birds to eat by dragging its spider-like tail along the ground. This, of course, didn't help much with Aang's anxiety regarding the offering of cake. However, he did wonder whether Dio was merely uncomfortable, or was simply trying to appear less intimidating for his sake. This of course reminded Aang that he, too, had a mask on his face, and it was beginning to sit funny on his nose. Catching himself just before sneezing, as such an event would likely be far more violent in this setting than the average person's sneeze, he put down the jelly roll to free up his hands and adjust the mask. Now, no matter how he turned it, the mask was more uncomfortable every time he let go of it. Sighing in frustration, he returned the mask to its original position resting heavily on his nose.

The small band in the corner had been playing a bit of a more slow and distant waltz, but now they picked up a pace with a fast, swinging jazzy bit. Masked partygoers at the tables around the two of them stood up in droves to return to the dance floor for the more boisterous dance bit. Aang almost had the urge to jump up himself, and even began to push himself up out of his chair, but restrained himself before anything but his arms had moved much. Leaving again after the first time could have been seen as an affront to the host, and this particular host really wasn't one that Aang wanted to offend.

[Albert Wesker]

As he rolled through the gate to the Moors, the sight that greeted him was... Well, it was definitely on the drab, dreary side. And there was a certain feeling in the air that he had often felt during his military career. It was an unpleasant feeling, and it weighed on his mind heavily enough that it brought a mild grimace of distaste to his face. He shook his head, hunching his shoulders in an attempt to shut out the atmosphere of the place and let the bike rumble on.

He was forced to check the directions on the flyer rather frequently. He would have preferred to stop and ask for directions from the locals, if at all possible, but...he never quite came acrpss any. He chalked it up mostly to the time of night he guessed it to be, as he was yet unaware of just how dreadful the Moors really were, and the real reason for the rather sparse presence of people.

Soon enough, his rolling along carried him out of the town proper, leaving him with even fewer ways to ensure he was still on the right path, beyond the general note in the directions to stay on the 'main road'. He could only assume that the well-beaten path he trundled along now was the main road mentioned, as if it wasn't...he was going to end up very, very lost, and in very short order, to boot.

He was confident enough he would manage well enough even if he did end up lost, but that didn't mean he wanted to go and get lost if he could help it.

His studious following of the directions paid off in the end, however, as not only did he not get lost, he managed to arrive at a point that was unmistakably his destination. The foreboding atmosphere of the place took a sharp jump as he reached a clear enough path through a dense tangle of woods. He brought the bike to a halt, staring at the trail ahead with a blank look on his face. It was probably his imagination running away with him -- or so he sincerely hoped, at least -- but it looked like his head would've brushed some of the overhanging branches.

Overhanging branches that he could swear were swaying. Against the light breeze.

"Arara... Should have gotten more rest before I came here, I guess..."

With a grim sort of determination, he lowered his posture on the bike and let it roll on forward. And as he went, frost started to flow down over his form, trailing behind the tires of the bike, leaving a rather clear trail in his wake. Said trail melted within mere moments, but the mist-like layer of miniscule ice crystals that clung to his own form -- specifically the sleeves and back of his long coat -- remained clear and visible, sparkling and shimmering in the faint light.

And making the air in his immediate vicinity even more chilly as he want along.

It was more of a play for intimidation than anything, as he doubted he could react to or fight effectively while riding the bike. He didn't have Smoker's experience in riding the strange, three-wheeled contraption. And he wasn't entirely sure he ever wanted to; that was just too much out of his element.

Further action and travel was brought to a halt as he finally left the woods behind, arriving before an admittedly rather huge mansion, that just had to be his destination. He brought the bike to a halt, staring up at the building for a long moment, as if in contemplation, before finally giving his head a long, slow shake, heaving a deep sigh, and killing the engine of the billower bike.

He climbed to his feet, and took the necessary time to extract the means of conveyance back to its component omnilium, before he straightened his posture, adjusted his tie and smoothed the rumbles in his suit from the long ride as best he could. Goodness, he'd forgotten how stuffy this suit could be form time to time.

He slowly strode toward the doors of the mansion, attended by a lone doorman with what must have been the masks mentioned in the flyer. He took a good look around the exterior of the mansion and its grounds as he approached, one hand sliding into a pocket of his suit in an old habit. When he finally reached the doorman himself, he looked down at the man, who looked back up at him.

"Another Prime here to attend the Masquerade?"

Kuzan lifted his free hand and scratched absently at the back of his head as he answered. "You could say that."

The doorman looked him up and down intently, before wrinkling his nose and letting out a sigh. "Well, I suppose your attire is suitable enough, at least." He reached into the pile of masks to one side of him without looking and retrieved a mask, offering it to the former Admiral. In what could not possibly be a coincidence, the mask he received was that of a pheasant. And it was even blue. He wrinkled his nose at the sheer unlikeliness of it all, holding in the far from insubstantial amusement he found in it all, and simply took the mask, affixing it in place as best he could. His rather...poofy hair made it momentarily difficult, but he managed in the end.

Once the mask was in place, he was ushered inside, and left to his own devices. He let out another hefty sigh, adjusting the collar of his suit once again. The atmosphere of this place wasn't sitting right with him for some reason. Maybe he should have just let that thief go on and show up here himself, and let whatever happened happen to him.

The first thing he noticed as he meandered further into the mansion, in the direction he assumed the Masquerade proper was taking place, was that he had arrived with things already somewhat in progress. The second was that, as usual, he seemed to stand well more than a head taller than nearly everyone else in the room. And it was enough to make him thankful, for a moment, for the mask he now wore, as it hid the scowl that lit up his features. That would make it all but impossible to keep a low profile and keep an eye out for the whole reason he had come here to begin with.

Shortly after his entrance, however, he was caught up in the sudden rush of assorted partygoers as the band struck up their playing into something fast, jazzy, and what he knew must be a delight to dance to. And it was a good thing that part of military etiquette had included even affairs such as this. Perhaps less grand or ostentatious, but it was enough to carry him through a dance he was pulled into -- rather strongly, though not against his will -- by a not unattractive young woman that he was quite certain wasn't human.

He hurriedly excused himself after a minute or so, and made his way to the edge of the room, seating himself at one of the tables presumably arranged for guests to sit at and rest. He heaved another sigh as he seated himself, rubbing at the faint traces of a beard on his chin. He was already tired of all this.

Maybe he should just...try and slip out...

[DioBrando]

Dio watched the dance floor with some amount of interest as the tune would change to this jazzy, up beat, tune that he'd never heard before. As a man who had come from the late 1800's he had just began to see things like steam power, and fire arms become common place rather than the weapons of war or nobility, and the jazz movement had still been more than 50 years away. So naturally, as someone entirely new to a style of music Dio was rather enjoying the tune that the band played.

Still, he couldn't believe that this filthy human had dared to spurn his offer. Was Cake prepared by a beautiful girl really that undesirable to him?! Sure he hadn't seen Ceare, but he should have known by Dio's own appearance that he was not a man who called someone beautiful for the sake of sparing their feelings. Perhaps he was worried that he had poisoned it, or that Dio had planted some kind of drug into the food. However, hadn't he made it clear earlier that he didn't want to eat him? That Dio was pondering this at all however, showed just how out of touch Dio was with normal human morality. His methods may have worked on the undead nobility who all possessed some horrific deformity or evil requirement for their life, so Dio's evil was something that was a matter of course to them, but to someone who possessed "noble" ethical standards Dio's social aptitude was as useful as a degree in astrological science.

Though Aang had said and done nothing, he was pushing Dio to his wits end. He did truly need the power of more primes on his side, and he had counted on being able to manipulate this naive kid into believing that their side was nothing more than a collection of misunderstood and wrongly persecuted beings who were merely living their lives as best they could. However, at all turns he had been stopped! Road blocked by that senseless and innate goodness Aang possessed, and by the own evil in Dio's heart which even he could not hide.

Just as he was about to give up, Dio would look at Aang while the music played and seeing Aang's reaction Dio would know, this was his chance! Finally some common ground that he didn't have to guess at. Lies were often many times more believable if there were some grain of truth to them, and while he still did not particularly care for Aang's well being with this point of mutual interest he had found his point of social attack! He could use this, and with the questions Aang posed on his own Dio would inwardly sigh in relief. Fate had saved him from the brink of self defeat, and now he was given yet another chance to win Aang over to his cause.

"A vampire, huh? Not a dracula? What's the difference?" The people he'd talked to in the Nexus had had all manner of terrible things to say about the Dracula, but hadn't so much as mentioned vampires. Perhaps a different, cousin-breed of undead? "Not to be rude or anything, of course, I'm just curious."

"The difference in general is that Dracula is an individual. He is the Lord of this realm and he controls quite a bit of power in his own right. A vampire in this world's sense is a being who was bitten by Dracula, or one of the people he has bitten and thus is forced to stalk the night and drink blood to survive. However, given you are a prime I will let you in on a secret regarding myself. In my world Vampires were not scorned by God, the method through which I became a vampire was through a stone mask, and thus. I am not vulnerable to holy artifacts, silver, running water, or any of the other traditional weaknesses save The Sun."

He would say to Aang, hoping that by mentioning the differences between him and Dracula, in particular the difference in their weaknesses regarding holy items, he would prove that he was at the very least a preferable option to the horror stories that Aang had doubtlessly heard in his own world. However, Dio's attack had just begun! Seizing the chance while Aang would still be focused on his previous statement he would say.

"For instance, even though most vampires can't taste food appropriately, blood being the only thing that they can truly enjoy. I even maintain the ability to eat normal food, though it doesn't nourish my body in anyway."

He'd say as he'd reach towards a fork beside him, and in a swift motion he'd take a bite of the cake that Aang had before him. Checkmate! In this move he had proven that he had not poisoned or drugged Aang's cake. This proof of generosity and with his shift of the blame for the vampire condition upon the singular being Dracula he believed that he was now in a position to deliver the final blow. The sweetness of impending victory made the ashen taste of the cake in his mouth worth tolerating. However, to truly convince Aang to at the very least not side against him in the future he had to but deal the final blow.

"In fact, and while I was intending to keep this a secret till the end of the party. I want nothing more than to improve The Pale Moors. I'm sure you've noticed the lack of paved roads, the density of the monsters in the forest. Yet, with so many powerful beings around like the undead you surely wonder why the areas around our places are not cleared of such beasts correct? The answer is simple, because there is an even greater threat that constantly sets back any progress we make. The monster that terrorizes the land, a building sized beast that burns villages and decimates both sides that I intend to destroy.

The Tarrasque."

He'd say, finishing with a confident smirk. The age old tale of slaying the evil beast to release the people from the yoke of it's tyranny! The quintessential hero's tale that resounded within the hearts of all men! While Dio's motives were far less noble and involved with things like "For the sake of the people", and were more centered around "Such a monster will needlessly complicate my plans" Dio knew very well how to spin this to make himself appear the shining misunderstood knight who bore the curse of a devil, this was the final ace up his sleeve. The ultimate trump card that would surely shatter the perception of him as an evil being who held no mercy in his heart.

[Drogon]

Aang was still confused about Dio's assertations regarding Dracula and vampires in general. He had never heard these terms before being pulled off to the Omniverse. His home world had had no notions whatsoever of vampires or really undead in general, and some of that context was lost as Dio described such things as "traditional vampire weaknesses" and being "scorned by God." The one thing that was abundantly clear was that Dio was powerful, and more so than the scorned creatures associated with the assuredly-malignant Dracula he'd described. Of course, hearing that the two were not associated was certainly a relief of sorts.

Furthermore, he was obviously ambitious. He had gone so far as to eat a bite of the cake he'd offered, simultaeously claiming dominance over his gift and increasing the offense taken if Aang didn't himself at least take a bite. Hesistantly, he lifted the slice off of the plate (He'd neglected to grab a fork for his jelly roll, and leaving the table at this point seemed a bad idea) to Dio's carefully inquisitive gaze. His aversion to eating meat, as a general rule, was to avoid supporting the killing of innocent animals. Of course, at this point, even IF there were something... Less than savory in this admittedly delectable-appearing treat, it was long gone and this cake long-since prepared. Nothing bad would come of just trying a bite - Or at least nothing so bad as what would happen if he didn't.

Sinking his teeth into the tip of the slice, or at least what remained of it after Dio's recent taxation, Aang replaced the cake on the plate and was instantly confronted with a powerful, sweet, rich flavour, accompanied by a texture smoother than any he had ever before experienced in any food. He lifted the plate to his face and began to happily chow down on this angelic delicacy. While he tried to keep the cake off the mask, it was difficult at the pace of his consumption. "Thirf ith delishush!" he forced out, still rapidly munching as Dio began to explain the impending doom arising from some giant monster destroying "people and buildings on both sides." In disappointment, Aang put down his finished plate and returned to the task at hand.

"And what 'Sides' are those that you speak of? I can only imagine you're talking about the people of Darkshire and the forces of Dracula, both of which seem to be mostly occupied with fighting eachother. If you're thinking of recruiting from Darkshire, I don't think many people will join you, especially considering the fact that they seem to not be super friendly with non-humans." Aang thought for a moment on the situation. Actually, he didn't have many long-term goals, the only one being to learn more bending styles and hopefully eventually return to his home and save his people from the Fire Nation. And in the short term? He needed to talk with Faren, and probably eventually return to the Brownings back in Camelot. Other than that, though... "Of course, I AM pretty new around these parts, and have yet to really take on anything big yet. Back in my home world I roamed continents, just kind of doing what I could for anyone I met who was in trouble. I'd like to do that here too, at least until I get my bearings. So, if you can put a group together, I'd be glad to help out! Tell me more about this Tarrasque thing."

Aang wasn't entirely sure about this whole ordeal, but this seemed the easiest way to at the very least reliably survive the night. Though he was still Aangxious that this whole setup was a ruse, at least now he had another Big Bad upon which to toss his restless gaze. He did, of course, saturate his speech with his best impression of the overly-naive, happy-go-lucky twelve-year-old do-gooder he knew he'd be perceived as (though much of that remained true), as in his experience those with the most hate dwelling in them grew most restless around such happy company. That, or they were at the least more likely to trip up and reveal incriminating details. Of course, Aang knew Dio was better than that, far better, or this whole conversation would never have happened in the first place. He would make sure to gauge Dio's reactions as carefully as he knew he himself was being watched, for if anyone needed to be on guard around these parts, it was Aang.

[Albert Wesker]

While he had at first been more worried that his own standing out would make it difficult to keep a low enough profile to keep a proper eye out for that blasted highwayman he wasn't even really sure was going to be here to begin with, he soon became aware of something else that was a much more prominent problem: he wouldn't have any real way of spotting the thief even if he did show up. The only real defining feature he knew to look for was that gaudy purple cloak of his. And as well-maintained and clearly presentable as it was, it didn't seem to be quite up to the standards of the attire generally on display by the other guests.

Meaning he had no idea what to look for, and rendering his entire point for being here pointless. It was enough to frazzle him more than a little bit, and that, combined with the uneasy feeling he'd had nearly since his arrival in the Moors in general, and the unsettling atmosphere of this enitre gathering, he wasn't in the best of moods, all in all. The only thing keeping him around at all was the sullen reminder that he had nothing awaiting him if he left, other than more aimless wandering and searching for something to occupy his time with. Sticking around and at least trying to enjoy the festivities, and gathering what information he could about the new verse he'd ended up in thanks to his now pretty much pointless quest.

And so, with thoughts like that in mind, he slowly heaved himself back up out of his chair, loosening his tie ever so slightly, and rolling his shoulders before slowly ambling along the outer perimenter of the room to avoid getting swept up in things out of the blue again. As he went, one hand slipped slowly into the pocket of his vest again, the other dangling loosely at his side, swinging as he walked in a loose approximation of marching, though with a far cry from the actual precision if he had been in actual formation.

He unconsciously zeroed in on the refreshment area, procuring himself a drink as he went, declining grabbing a bite to eat just yet. He was growing more and more suspicious of this entire event the longer he hung around, and the more he observed the guests here, and just how many of them seemed to be...well...just plain off in a way he just couldn't put his finger on. Some of them reminded him, in an eerie sort of way, of the zombie Gecko Moriah could make with his Kage Kage no Mi. At least with the drink he could give it a cursory examination by scent before drinking to do his best and ensure nothing......funny was going on.

Well, aside from just about everything in his current surroundings.

As he went to turn his attention back to observing things in general, he overheard something that took his full attention, though only his eyes swept over to give any indication of his attention. Something about a beast the size of a building, demolishing villages and causing havoc in general to both sides of what he could only assume to be some sort of conflict. Its name was mentioned -- the Tarrasque, it would seem -- though the name meant nothing to the former Admiral. He filed it away, regardless, and turned fully to face the source of the conversation.

He took a practiced eye to both participants in the talk, studying them as best he could. Given his unfortunate lack of Haki, or being close enough to truly get a good measure of them he couldn't tell much. A rather broad guess told him they were probably both Primes....though he couldn't be certain. He listened in as best he could over the general noise, trying to catch what he could of what was said, and heard enough to rouse his interest in lending a hand. If no one had done anything yet -- or perhaps couldn't do anything, might have been more accurate, if the beast as as fierce as it was large -- and the man wearing the wolf mask wasn't going to find help in Darkshire, then he might as well offer his own aid.

After all, it would be a chance to do some good, and hopefully let him shake out some of the muck in the gears, so to speak, and getting his powers back on track. "Arara..." He slowly ambled his way toward the conversing pair, one hand still in his pocket. "...that sounds like quite the task there, taking down a beast like that..." He paused for a moment, as if debating whether he really wanted to help. "I didn't mean to interrupt, but...I thought I might offer my own help in taking it down, too."

[DioBrando]

Dio's satisfaction was plain to see, though the child had played at being naive he had dodged many of the traditional traps that were laid out for those types, and had proved by doing so that he was a bit more knowledgeable than he was letting on. However, when baited by Dio's own sampling of the cake, a statement of dominance and a reinforcement of his good will he had taken to it with gutso, devouring Dio's gift and even going as far as to compliment the chef. Something that Dio would allow a sigh for in the back of his mind, that he enjoyed it was merely one less thing for him to lie about later, Ceare was such a testy individual and he wasn't allowed to simply kill her for fear of earning the ire of the host's faction.

Hearing Aang speak up about The Tarrasque he would smirk a bit, he was curious now. That meant that his interest had already been piqued. Good, he could use another meat shield in his confrontation with that monster, just from the rumors he'd heard as he floated through the towns on his arrival had been enough to make even his skin crawl. Nothing that they had sent at it so far had even managed to do a little more than dent it, and even that didn't last long. However, Dio was confident in the new powers that were gradually suffusing his body as time passed, he had even begun to feel the flow of time itself lately, an astounding little fact that he was sure would be critical in securing the killing blow on that monster. However, Aang didn't need to know that, and Dio was operating on a very strict need to know basis on what he was handing out to Aang here. Thus, when he asked about the factions Dio would graciously allow that unimportant bit of information to slip.

"The factions of Dracula, and Darkshire are lead respectively by Dracula.. if that wasn't obvious, and Darkshire is lead by the self righteous and rather sanctimonious Paladin Argento. While I possess no love for that bastard in his keep, The Paladin kills our kind on sight. Thus, leaving the undead who end up here in The Pale Moors with no choice but to ally with him. As for not being able to ask Darkshire for help you are right. In their religious zealotry they have chosen to treat undead as monsters rather than people with identities. Thus even if the undead were to go to them waving a white flag they'd be met with nothing less than an all purging wave of holy fire."

He'd say, doing his best to appear the poor, wrongly persecuted, type to the boy. He had seemed apprehensive about the mere presence of blood, the idea of things like "Oppression" and "Tyranny" were doubtlessly things that would offend Aang's sensibilities, even if he was hiding his true nature underneath a veneer of happy go lucky attitude this would definitely be the kind of thing that would pluck at his heart strings. Thankful that the mask he wore made it much easier to hide expressions, the extreme wrinkling of his mouth enough to convey the intense disdain without betraying his true intentions, after all, even Dio had his limits when it came to lying and when it came to making himself pitiable even he would find it difficult to do so without betraying the true intentions behind his words.

Thankfully, Aang continued to press even when he had finished that statement, mentioning his lack of big goals, and how he was someone who wanted do something like "helping" people of his own free will. It was all Dio could do to stop himself from licking his chops like a wolf staring down prey, however, decades of practice in maintaining a false demeanor allowed Dio to master himself and his emotions to keep the mask beneath the mask as he'd continue.

"Yes, unfortunately however, those who have been attacked by the beast have nothing to offer us aside from spreading the fame of our name and their thanks. The beast leaves nothing in it's wake, so rather than reward this is a hunt of purpose. If what you said about wanting to help people is true then I'll gladly welcome you into the hunting party. However, I have to let you know that I'm not nearly so altruistic, by hunting it I, Dio, intend to prove myself the man who can make The Moors great again."

However, Dio quickly came to regret his decision as he realized another prime had been in waiting. Silently cursing Reaves for not making him aware as primes entered the building. Though Dio supposed he only had himself to blame for all of this. To say that Reaves was likely still mad about the highly public abuse was likely an understatement that even he, Dio, wouldn't be able to convey with complete sincerity.

Inwardly scowling he'd turn to Kuuzan smiling as best he could as he'd stand and pull a seat out for his guest, after all, while Dio was a remorseless bastard he was not a bad host by any means, anything that would reflect ill on him in the eyes of those at his stature was something of grave importance to Dio, he had been taught rather forcefully that even secondaries were threats to newly minted primes, forcing him to respect those who looked more at home here in The Omniverse, or well, to at least pretend to.

This didn't mean that Dio was about to let Kuuzan get off scot free for eavesdropping however. How could DIo forgive that kind of rudeness as a party host? Thus, he intended to at the very least rope Kuuzan into participating in the hunt, though. He had to keep quiet about the potential reward of an armament, that would be knowledge only for those he believed were worthy of wielding such a tool.

"Ah I see someone has keen ears, very well then. To ensure that you don't spoil the surprise for the rest of the party I'm going to have to ask that you take a seat with us here. If you want to help that's fine. I have a great need for powerful primes, and must admit that was part of the reason I invited so many here for free gourmet dining and a fine evening of dancing. However, I intend to make the announcement myself at the end of the event in front of all of the guests here. If you wouldn't mind allowing me my.. theatrics that is."

Dio would say holding the seat for a few moments before he'd return to his chair, leaving it open if Kuuzan didn't take the invitation. After all, it's not like Kuuzan would honestly believe he could get away with leaving now, especially given he had already offered his help and Dio had accepted. Though, Dio hated being forced into a corner like this. Being forced to accept the help of a man as obviously hardened as Kuuzan hear was far different than his efforts in recruiting the mindlessly altruistic Aang who was likely completely fine with the idea of facing down a building sized monster without compensation. Kuuzan here however, Dio could tell just by looking at him that this was a man who had spent his entire life dealing with evil, a man who had seen a million criminals and thieves pass before him like ash on the wind. Fooling him was going to be a completely different task compared to fooling Aang, and to be honest with himself, Dio wasn't sure if the lies he had told Aang would hold under the scrutiny that this man would put them under.

However, Dio was not about to give up! To him a challenge was merely something to be overcome, it did not intimidate him in the slightest. To see the icy glare of that man fall on him was surely bad luck, but it was nothing Dio did not believe he could not triumph over. Thus, with a chuckle he'd gesture towards a servant, the skeletal matrie d greeting him with a bow as Dio would order some formal entrees and two bottles of wine. Dio pausing as he considered something for a moment, Aang had already eaten some cake so it was likely he would only need something to drink to go with it, so Dio put in an order for some hot tea as well.

Returning to the table Dio would do his best to smirk in a manner that wasn't completely vile as he would survey the men arranged at the table, taking note of everything from how they sat, to their reactions when Dio's gaze met theirs, Dio probing for information for his next move as he would say.

"With that said, if you have any questions about how I intend to do this, I will be more than happy to give you the preliminary details that we've come up with so far. However, I must be 100% sure of your commitment. There are those in Darkshire who would see me dead just for existing, and I'd rather not leak my whereabouts to anyone on their side I wont be able to keep an eye on."

[Drogon]

Dio was beginning to show signs of satisfaction. Good. Aang planned to continue on like this, getting as much information out of him as possible before the end of the party, and if such a thing were to be possible, it would be through pleasing his host. And, as such, Aang had been given a run-down of Darkshire from the point of view of one who HAD been turned away at the door, much like he himself nearly had, and R'texum before him knew he surely would have been. That much, he wholeheartedly believed - the citizens of Darkshire were very much xenophobic of anything that seemed remotely non-human. Of course, surely there was more of a reason behind it than JUST a powerful religious leader. Though that could certainly be one factor, surely something had happened in the past that could cause such a hardy little town so much fear. "Look, I know how much Darkshire hates... Er, your kind, but there HAS to be a good reason for it, right? The only way a religious leader of that sort could have taken hold of the place is through fear, and for that they had to be afraid of something outside of the walls of the town. Which means either the undead did something terrible to them at one point, with or without Dracula, or something else entirely instilled this hate in them. So, which was it?"

Enough about Darkshire though, there was a bigger task at hand. As Dio went on to explain the thanklessness of the task and his own goals, Aang dismissed them with a handwave. "I don't care if there's a reward of any sort or not. And anyway, you can't do it by yourself. They'll all know you had help, and if anyone asks, I won't hesitate to tell them I went along with it."

Suddenly, there was a new face looming over the both of them. Jumping, Aang turned his head up to an uncomfortable angle to purview their listener. Aang knew not his name, only that he was overly tall, had matchingly poofy hair and bird mask, and wanted to help fight the Tarrasque. Aang perked up at this news. The taking down of a building-sized beast would prove to be no easy feat regardless of its nature, and more early subscribers to the "Hunting party" as it were might be a good assurance plan. Though, as Dio seemed to plan to put out his plan to the rest of the guests at the end of the party, it was perhaps less than necessary.

When it had been just him and Dio at the table, Aang had at least been somewhat justified in sitting with his chair facing out towards the dance floor both to watch the entertainment unfolding before him and as an easy escape route should something go wrong. Now, however, with a third party present, he was forced to reluctantly turn his chair around to face the center of the table, and Dio.

"First of all, I'm still down with taking down this monster if it'll help the people of this land, so if you have more to tell me, go ahead. Past that, though, I'll be making my own decisions about my path, and who if anyone to side with in this dreary place." At this point, Aang was acting as flippant as he could force himself to, although it was making him anxious just thinking about the potential results. A reaction of any sort from Dio, or even the new bird guy, would be more telling than anything they'd said so far about their true intentions, and he hoped to force one out. "I have things to do in other verses too -"

But before he could finish his sentence, he was stopped abruptly by the firm and enticing scent of the tea being placed before him. He felt like he knew someone... No, SHOULD know someone, someone strongly associated with that scent. He was strangely calm for just half of a second, before snapping back to reality. "... You know." But this was delivered with less gusto than the statement it had been attached to. Something had detached him from reality for a moment there, and now he had to find out what it was. He took a sip of his tea. Delicious, and it put him at ease instantly. But somehow, he'd already known it would.

[Alain the Carnedge]

The Moors were as dull as ever. Alain walked through the lifeless wasteland once more, each step and breath slowly but surely boring him to death. He wasn't paying attention, hell, he wasn't even listening to his surroundings in case of an incoming attack. He was, by all purposes, sleepwalking. Yet, no predator struck from the shadows in an effort to tear him apart. Perhaps they knew better than attacking the wanderers on the road, knowing the danger of attacking a potential threat could potentially end in their untimely demise. Or perhaps not, and they were just preoccupied with some other unfortunate life-threatening situation. Either way, the Mercenary walked the path half-asleep, wishing for anything, anything at all, to happen.

Alain thus decided to think of something else other than walking through his pale hell. He didn't have a plan, no guides, no way of knowing where he was going or what he was going to do. All he knew is that what's-his-face, Lumia, had offered him a job in a place called Camelot. It was so incredibly obvious that what he was doing was illegal that it was hard not to turn him into the authorities that didn't seem to exist here just to teach him that his apparent inability to mistrust others would lead to his downfall.

But, it was an opportunity that he couldn't resist taking...after all, there's always some that want to take the law into their own hands, and Alain was willing to bet that some of those self-proclaimed Vigilantes wouldn't mind paying him in return for said information. Not like he expected them to succeed though, but each person he sold the information to would pile on the heat on Lumia's "organization", while giving him the money he needed to gain some power around here.

The fake smile that he usually put on to deceive others into thinking he's actually trying to be nice was instead replaced by one of the few genuine expressions he knew; a grin that knew trouble was going to start, and he was going to enjoy every moment of it as the chaos unfolded.

But, plans tend to fall apart quickly at a single mistake, so I'll need a backup. I'll gain some reputation with the most powerful faction so I can fall back on their territory if things go sour. After I get the idea that they'll be displeased that I'm killed, I'll start selling the info.

Alain was so absorbed in his inner thoughts that he almost didn't notice the tree that he was walking into, narrowly ducking under a branch and quietly stepping back onto the pathway. There were some pretty creepy looking woods ahead. The well, wood, was almost completely black, making the trees look like they were about to fall on any unwary travelers who so much as stepped on the road. Strolling on through the dark forest, his spirit renewed at the thought of horrible mischief, the silence of the moors breaking from the sound of others walking through nearby.

"I can't believe you got us lost again." One male voice said, evidently annoyed. Alain triggered his invisibility, the darkness spreading over his cloak before the party came into view, a woman scowling at who was presumably voice one."We're not lost, we just don't kn-"

"STOP SAYING THAT, THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT LOST MEANS!" The man screamed, the birds in the trees taking off at his incredibly over-the-top reaction. A third member of the party spoke up in an attempt to calm things down... "Look, can't we just get along and try to figure out how to get to the Masquerade? Arguing ain't gonna help, guys." ...but that failed miserably, the two yelling in unison: "SHUT UP, LARRY!" Larry hung his head and walked slower, trailing behind the other members of the group who just shook their heads at him as if to say "don't even bother". Alain followed behind the party as the couple bickered, the other members sighing in exasperation.

"Shut up, I know what I'm doing!" The woman insisted, her temper starting to rise.

"No you don't, THAT'S WHY WE'RE LOST!" The man continued to shout.

Surprisingly enough, this wasn't fun for anyone. The mercenary just walked behind under his literal "cloak of invisibility", hoping to arrive at a town or anything, really. They looked rich enough to buy a castle. Maybe two. Wondering as he were at why exactly rich people were taking a calm little stroll through the Pale Moors, he decided not to think about it and just hoped the reason was because there were better clients than Darkshire. Whatever the case, he followed on, ignoring the incessant chatter of the pair in the front.

Just as he was started to get seriously annoyed at the pair's incessant chatter, they came out to a clearing; a mansion set in the middle of it, the home Said guests also just ran at the house, cheering and laughing, so Alain assumed it was safe and followed suit. The bickering immediately stopped and everyone was happy, for now at least. The mercenary slipped past the doorman and took one of the animal masks, (he didn't check which) donning it while the guard's attention was on the guests.

"Secondaries, I assume?" The doorman spoke like he was tired of greeting people for the night. But who could blame him, really? One of the guys in the back spoke up in response to the doorman's question. "We're from Camelot. This is the Masquerade, right?" The guy was either blind or really paranoid, as the pile of masks directly to the left of him wasn't exactly going anywhere. "Take your mask and go on. Don't cause any trouble." The man did his job despite his apparent boredom and started handing out masks, one by one to each of the group before letting them in.

Alain moved past him without a sound, walking through the absurdly large doors and disabling his invisibility just as he saw the group look away to thank the doorman, leaning against the wall until they approached. They all gave him shifty looks, like he should've been at a different party. He assumed it had something to do with the obnoxiously flashy red cloak, but he didn't care. He just rolled his eyes at 'em, though they didn't see it under his mask and hood. Probably for the best.

After the group had departed, Alain himself started walking for the actual party. Coming through the second set of doors, his expectations were very quickly exceeded. Though, exceeded or not, he silently vowed to himself to never touch the dance floor.
Each step that was taken was a cautious one, silently evading the dance addicts who were searching for partners. Taking what seemed to be a few minutes, Alain finally sat down in what he assumed was the break area.

Some of the partygoers moved to the dance floor, others either looked tired or like they wanted to leave, but decided against it because they were scared to depart until the appropriate time had come. Not many people stood out, each wearing the same mask and the same 'ol rich clothes. The only one who did stand out yet seemed important at the same time was who he presumed to be the host-the one donning the lion mask. The only one with a predatory animal for their mask, Alain noticed. Speaking to who he assumed to be a child and...maybe his bodyguard?

But before he could get a good look and check if they were a threat, he felt the distinct feeling that someone was watching him, at which point he very quickly diverted his eyes to the dance floor, attempting to look like he'd care if his attention was diverted from the music in a half-assed attempt of making sure nobody talked to him.

[Albert Wesker]

It looked like his sudden input into the conversation had been unexpected, at best, and maybe even unwanted, at worst. The reaction of the man wearing the wolf mask was difficult to judge -- or at least, his real reaction was, at any rate. He was far from a stranger from being forced to put on a mask and hide what was really going through your mind at any given point. He'd practically made a career out of doing just that, forcing his personal feelings down to do his duty in his military service. Forced to act out the role of enforcer, glorified policeman, bounty hunter, island destroyer, fearless warrior, and even executioner. He had a better grasp on picking out when people were forcing something down to put on a facade of some sort...even if he wasn't so good at picking out exactly what was behind said front.

And right now, he was more than positive that mister wolf-mask was definitely hiding how he really felt about...something. Probably Kuzan's own sudden butting into what may have very well been a private conversation.

The reaction of the young man was much easier to discern. Caught off guard by his sudden looming presence, and seemingly just as quickly put at relative ease by his offer of assistance. While he had enough experience to know that appearances and even age, in some cases, meant far less than might be expected in some cases, he was still more than a little uncomfortable with the thought of someone who appeared so young fighting something that had been described the way this 'Tarrasque' beast had. It reminded him all too eerily of a Sea King that could roam the land. And even fighters as powerful as Navy Headquarters officers couldn't take beasts like that lightly.

There was even a story that such a beast had been the very thing that took the arm of Red-Hair Shanks. And if one of those monsters could deal so devastating an injury to one of the Yonko...

Admiral or no, he was going to have to stay on his toes, especially given his dramatically weakened state since his arrival here. Had he been at full strength, he wouldn't have had anything to fear. He could have frozen the best solid in mere moments and shattered it, rendering it harmless and dealt with as soon as he could find it. But with his powers restricted as they were...he didn't know if he would be able to freeze something that large at all, much less in any frame of time to be useful in a direct combat scenario. Better to have some form of help along for the ride, then.

Not wanting to seem overly rude, Kuzan finally emerged from his thoughts, giving the wolf-mask man a deep, polite nod, and taking a seat in the chair pulled out for him, making a show of moving carefully and cautiously, as if he were much older than he was and was growing stiff and tired in his old age, like Sakazuki or Borsalino. Even something as subtle as that could prove to be useful if things went south. Who would expect someone with such stiffness to their movements to disappear if you blinked? He wasn't nearly as fast as he had been before coming here, but he hoped he was still fast enough.

Fast enough for what, though, he hoped he wouldn't need to find out just yet.

"That seems fair enough...wouldn't want to spoil the surprise." Though he sounded as bored as anything, he was at least sincere in his words. When he revealed that he had intention to make the announcement to everyone gathered here at the event's end, the ice-man nodded slowly. "Right...get all the help possible..."

When Dio mentioned he must be entirely sure of their commitment, Kuzan's brow furrowed beneath the mask. He could understand needing to be sure that people who were going to be your allies against such a beast wouldn't just run out on you, but... He brushed that aside and said, as simply as he could, "I don't care what you are, what you've done or what you will do, right at the moment...only that you're trying to get rid of some monster terrorizing people on both sides of a conflict." He adjusted the mask as he spoke, and when he went on, his tone remained level, even and conversational, but there was a cold cast to his eyes, something almost soulless and hard, stern and unrelenting, like the darkest, coldest part of a glacier's core. "...so for the moment, I don't have any reason to go telling anyone where you are."

The meaning behind his words was clear: Give me a reason, and I won't need to tell anyone where you are. It wasn't a thread; he wasn't in the business of threatening people. He was merely illustrating his point. Even predators needed to stay on watch from time to time, no matter how in their element and secure they felt.

And then the deathly cold, severe look went out of his eyes, and a lazy smile spread across his features. "....so let's keep things working for the better, and we'll all walk away happier and better off, aye?"

[Medusa]

Fogy and full of despair. That was Homura's opinion of this place that she found out was the Pale Moors. She had thought that the name suited such a place. A place where you have to be wary of monsters, wary of the people right beside you, wary of everything. Truly a gloomy place, if Madoka was here she would insist on choosing a place that better suited her. When she was traveling between the inns she had heard of the upcoming masquerade. Homura of course paid no attention to it and went to bed. She gave it a few thoughts and decided to go. She knew that she might not catch the being called Omni off-guard like she had done with her dear Madoka. She would need allies to grow more powerful since she couldn't control time as well as she did in the past and redo things over.

She had continued walking towards the place where the masquerade was held, her heart was still yearning for her one true love. Whenever Homura was walking she always found her thoughts going to Madoka, her smile, her laugh, her voice. This only steeled Homura's determination to overthrow that being called Omni and return back to her Madoka. Homura was still wearing her odd dress, she had to re-summon it every so often to get the wrinkles and dirt off of it.

Homura was soon walking down the road towards the mansion that held the masquerade, she saw various nobles heading there as well. Homura was walking on the side of the road, her appearance drawing the curious looks of the nobles. She didn't say a word to anybody. She was giving off a odd aura, a aura that gave her a mysterious, mature vibe. The nobles didn't dare approach the girl, after all why would they approach somebody like Homura? Nevertheless Homura continued on her way determined to meet allies to help her gain power. This was her goal to make sure that she met her beloved Madoka.

As Homura approached the mansion she saw a line had formed in front of the door, it was obvious that they were here for the masquerade due to their fancy attire. The guard was staring at the pile of masks as Homura was stepping up to receive her mask. "Are you a noble or....." His words trailed off as he raised his head to look at the girl's appearance. He reached for the mask on top of the pile and handed it to Homura. "Thank you." She said, her voice calm. She took the mask to only narrowed her violet eyes at it. It was a wooden wombat mask. Homura let out a faint sigh before putting on the wombat mask, the doorman gave her a nod of approval. Homura stepped inside the entry hall, luckily it was spacey allowing her wings to have plenty of room.

A tall, muscular blonde man stepped onto the balcony, overlooking the crowd. He was wearing a wolf mask with golden fur. He wore a tailor suit "I, the esteemed Dio Brando, am proud to welcome you all to The Masquerade. If you will don your masks at the door I will be happy to show you all to the dance floor where we have a most prestigious occasion prepared for you all." The man said, his voice booming throughout the entry hall. With this the doors opened to the dance hall, and the masquerade had begun.

Homura had stuck to the corners, near the food table. She wasn't really fond of dancing when her own lover wasn't here. People just seemed to overlook the weird girl wearing the wombat mask, that was a good thing for her and for them. However there was one fool who went towards the girl in the corner, politely asking for a dance. "Sorry, however I'm not well educated in the way of dancing. If you will excuse me, I have other business to attend to." Homura said, and with a slight bow she moved over to another corner.

Homura disliked the idea of dancing in general. She would be eager to dance with Madoka, however she wasn't here and so she wasn't keen on the idea of dancing with another person. "Ah, me and Madoka dancing together. Pressing our bodies close. Then when our eyes met we...." Homura thought to herself, A faint blush came to Homura's pale cheeks as her thoughts had started to wonder towards other things. Homura shook her head slightly, stopping herself from getting caught in her own thoughts.

"In fact, and while I was intending to keep this a secret till the end of the party. I want nothing more than to improve The Pale Moors. I'm sure you've noticed the lack of paved roads, the density of the monsters in the forest. Yet, with so many powerful beings around like the undead you surely wonder why the areas around our places are not cleared of such beasts correct? The answer is simple, because there is an even greater threat that constantly sets back any progress we make. The monster that terrorizes the land, a building sized beast that burns villages and decimates both sides that I intend to destroy. The Tarrasque." The conversation flowed into Homura's ears. She turned to see the host talking to a bald boy with strange tattoos on his body.

"Hm, interesting. A beast the size of a building and that burns down villages? I would assume that the reason why the host is telling the boy this is because he is a prime. Primes are strong so you would naturally leave such a job to them. He wants to assemble a team of hunters to hunt down such a beast? What will be in it for me if I do happen to join them? I could very well lose my life, however I will revive. This will also be a good way to make allies in the future, fighting a beast that has terrorized the Pale Moors? It's a sure way to gain respect and fame in this place." Homura thought to herself, giving her thoughts a few approving nods.

"I didn't mean to interrupt, but...I thought I might offer my own help in taking it down, too." Said a tall man, wearing a pheasant mask, Homura did wonder how he managed to fit the mask over his large busy hair. However she put those petty thoughts aside and continued to listen into the trio's conversation. Luckily the trio hadn't noticed the odd girl's presence. She had continued to gather information trying to get a better grasp on what they were talking about.

Indeed, Homura was spot on with her previous thoughts of the host gathering people to fight the being known as the Tarrasque. "....so let's keep things working for the better, and we'll all walk away happier and better off, aye?" As the man finished his statement Homura decided that it was her chance to make herself known to the trio. She came from behind the tall man with bushy hair, stepping beside him.

"Hello, Dio and associates. I am Akemi Homura." Homura said, lifting up the bottom of her dress and putting one foot in front of the other as a curtsy , giving the trio a good look of the weird, vivid color inside her dress. "I just happen to overhear you needed people to hunt down this being called the Tarrasque. Lucky for us, my goals happen to go greatly with your desire to get rid of this being. I will be glad to led my services to this hunting squad, after all I am a prime." She said, a sly smile coming onto her face underneath her mask. She gave the odd wings on her back a small wiggle. The girl still had that weird, mysterious, mature vibe around her that seemed to indict that she was a prime without her odd attire or appearance.

[Inlumia]

Inlumia headed to the mansion through the air and had to admit, the flowers gave the place an interesting appearance. It was a sure sign that whoever owned the manor had a flare for delivering a subtle message in ways too large to be ignored, yet still remain subtle. Pity too may people would miss it. After all, it only took planning, maintenance, and a large amount of room. When holding onto a small area is hard, being able to that much room just for a decrotive message is a warning the mansion's owner could do whatever he damn well pleased!

Inlumia landed in the courtyard and slid of WIldia's back. Standing in front of her he looked her in the eyes and told her, with a slight smile, "Be on your best behaviour, like at the last castle you stabled at, but only more so. Do you understand?"
She sniggered and Inlumia could not help chuckling a bit. Patting her on the side he said "Be off with you, Wildling!"

As she headed to the stable doors, Inlumia headed to the mansion's doors, and wondered which of them would have the better company.

At the door the doorman asked Inlumia "Are you a noble or a Prime?"
Inlumia chuckled, "I like to think of myself as being noble by my choice, and a Prime by anothers choising."
The doorman rolled his eyes and handed Inlumia a mask of a mouse.
Walking past the doorman, inlumia switched it with a mask of a Panther he saw while the doorman was distracted with the next guests.

[DioBrando]

Dio shifted in his seat, adjusting his viewing angle so that he was more straight backed. It was clear that all the primes in the room had heard him at this point, he had hoped that the hustle and bustle traditionally a part of a dance party would have allowed him to scheme somewhat in private with the crowd as covered but it was quite apparent that this location was far too central for that to have been even a vague possibility. However disappointing as it was that he was being forced to disclose his intended "Secret" to every Tom, Dick, and Harry that walked through the door; He was at least relieved that he wasn't going to be suffering from a lack of interested pawns in his upcoming quest.

"Look, I know how much Darkshire hates... Er, your kind, but there HAS to be a good reason for it, right? The only way a religious leader of that sort could have taken hold of the place is through fear, and for that they had to be afraid of something outside of the walls of the town. Which means either the undead did something terrible to them at one point, with or without Dracula, or something else entirely instilled this hate in them. So, which was it?"

Hearing Aang's statement regarding people hating the people of Dracula's army before he existed, Dio would chuckle, he couldn't believe that this kid had even this much sense in his head, but he supposed even a broken clock was right at least two times a day. Still, this pointed statement was as easy to refute as taking candy from a baby. Indeed, to someone of Dio's intellect this couldn't even be considered a retort, it was the most basic pretense of all prejudice, and as an educated individual he had heard this argument many a time regarding those born in the slums growing up from the mouths of holier than thou nobles. However, Dio wasn't trying to win an argument here. He was trying to change someone's mind, convince them so completely that other notions would seem offensive or completely alien to his new way of thought.


"Ah, you would have a point. However that argument ignores the fact that before Dracula it was Diablo who was in control in The Pale Moors, and under him his servants suffered as much as those he conquered. There's quite a good reason why even Lord Dracula, as vile a man as he is, refused to help The Lord of Terror and instead took that chance to consolidate his forces."

He'd say, his wry smirk turning confident. This was perfect, here he would not only convince those who had decided to eavesdrop but he would also build on the fake notion of "Sympathy". Being as evil as he was Dio was not above playing the pretend victim, to try and manufacture an identity as a being forced into service using the history of this world, twisting events to portray them as beings who simply desired to live. After all, who could not understand and sympathize with the struggle of a people who had been under the yoke of tyrant after tyrant?!

"In fact there has been no point in recorded history where the undead have been able to exist under their own will or a duly elected leader. Tell me, how can you judge a people for their tyrants?!"

Dio said, feigning an enraged reaction as he'd stand up, his arm swinging to the side to knock a glass to the floor, sending it flying to the ground where it would burst on contact with the marbled floors, a righteous indignation burning in Dio's eyes behind his mask. However, in his mind Dio was laughing like a mad man. How could anyone see this display and not view as someone who simply wanted a better life for the undead? How could one look at Dio now and see anything other than someone who wanted a free world for those who had existed for millenia under the yoke of monsters.

Sighing, he'd turn and order a servant to clean up the glass. Then he'd sit back down in his chair, his expression set and solemn as he would continue speaking, his tone now far more somber. Such was the power of a master of deceit, he could carefully manage his emotions so well that he could create perfect simulcra of emotions that he had never experienced as a truly selfish and vile being.

"I apologize, but as a man born in the slums of my own world I have been looked down on my entire life by nobles.Hearing the poor being blamed for the actions of those in power has always been a struggle that inflamed my heart. You have the apologies of Dio, in that moment I allowed my personal convictions to take precedence over my duties as a host."

He said bowing his head just a little towards Aang. Bowing to this lowly worm was a humiliation he had to endure in exchange for his previous out burst, appearing to try and save his pride as a host would be the only way he could possibly have kept that outburst in line with how he had acted when he was more natural. Thus even though it pained Dio significantly to do so, he would. Thankfully though, he was saved by the arrival of the tea and Aang's surprising reaction to it, the boy seeming to become much more calm when he had a pot of freshly prepared tea before him, a curious fact that Dio made a mental note of in case the pair ever needed to undergo negotiations in the future.

From there he would silently wait for other people to speak, letting them say their pieces. Kuuzan's statement would earn a pronounced expression of disapproval from Dio. That this worm would dare threaten the glorious existence known as Dio was a sin that he would certainly remember.

However, before he could reply to Kuuzan's display of ignorance, another prime would appear would approach, Dio's eyes catching.. an odd flow of space and time around this girl. Like time itself avoided flowing around her as it did others, and in that moment Dio knew that what he was seeing was another person capable of manipulating time as he did, and judging from her demeanor he could tell instantly that this was a girl who possessed great evil in her heart. Dio would let out a sigh of relief, seeing her was indeed a message from the heavens that he was not forsaken in this world. He had believed himself to be the only one unconstrained by the laws of good, and the tyranny of justice, but here wearing the skin of a little girl was a being of evil equatable to his own dark soul. Dio would utter a silent prayer to whatever Vile God resided over this domain, thanking him for sending him someone who wasn't some worthless hero.

"Ah so it seems we nearly have a full hunting party then. Well then Ms., allow me to introduce you to your partners, Aang and Kuuzan. As a group full of primes I'm sure you all have your own talents and abilities, and we'll be discussing them at length here soon enough. However I would like to answer any questions people have about myself or The Tarrasque now."

He'd say as the music would change again, this time the upbeat tune was replaced by a slow somber tone, the lights on the dance floor dimming as the band that had occupied the center stage moved out, allowing some actors to take their place, the raised stage the band had been performing on in the corner being populated as a narrator would begin a tale of betrayal and woe, detailing the beginning of the play and explaining the events that lead up to it before the actors would take to the stage.

Dio would smirk as he'd eye the performers out of the corner of his eye, good, this meant that any further eavesdroppers would solely be the people who were interested in hunting the tarrasque itself. It also meant that the hustle and bustle of the dance floor was far calmer as the finishing event of the Masquerade's final day began, the main courses being rolled out onto a row of tables that were pushed towards the side of the room, the whole transition a flawlessly orchestrated performance that Dio would need to thank Reaves for later. Truly only a remarkable individual could have orchestrated the movements so flawlessly. With the nobility distracted Dio would turn to the assembled group looking far more serious as he'd speak to the assembled primes.

"Now, with the prying ears occupied elsewhere I'd like to make you all aware of the danger inherant in this mission. Other hunting teams have already tried and failed to down this beast, and in spite of it's size it's said to have lightning speed. However this all pales before it's regenerative ability which is rumored to only be stopped by an intense flame or acid that scours it's wounds. That all is coupled with a hide tougher than iron, even catapults and cannons have been unable to deal lasting damage. Now all of this is hearsay from survivors of previous parties and from the tales of militia who have tried to stop it from destroying their towns."

He'd say rubbing his temples. The expression of exasperation on his face making it clear that the lack of reliable information was a source of frustration for Dio. He never enjoyed doing anything he was not one hundred percent sure of his ability to deal with on his own, and the lack of reliable information had made that completely impossible. Having to call in just as many primes as were arranged before him was something that made bile rise in the back of his throat. However, Dio knew that there was still more to be said, and thus after allowing a moment for the weight of his words to sink in he would continue.

"Thus even I, Dio, cannot say for certain how true any of this is. Honestly if it weren't for my own abilities being as incredible as they are I wouldn't even dare to hunt this monster. Thus I have to make sure all of you are ready here, if we are to survive none of you can show a moment's hesitation in the face of this beast. One second of fear or cowardice can lead to all of our deaths. So if you doubt your ability to stare death in the eyes and charge forward in spite of the danger, I ask that you leave this table now. My heart could not bear it if any who were unwilling to lose their lives in pursuit of this goal were to be forced to fight. I will not shame any who decide to leave. This is a task that before which even the flame of a heroes courage may flicker and wither."

He'd say, inwardly chuckling. A heroes courage?! What kind of crap was that. The only thing that mattered was strength, and wording it as he had he had extended the offer for weaklings to flee. He did not need any cowards in his ranks and anyone who would not die for this had no business being anything other than cattle. In fact, Dio almost hoped someone would leave the table and identify themselves as food for him in the future. Dio's terrifying internal thought process was hidden behind that Stone Mask of his expression, set in an expression of solemn determination any who looked would merely see a man who had delivered a grave ultimatum. The somber tone of the music, and the lighting in the room all lended itself towards creating the perfect atmosphere for Dio's own performance, the host of the party having his own little play right here in the corner. Only his audience was far more enraptured than those staring at the stage.

[Drogon]

Aang felt mildly betrayed, as though Dio were putting words in his mouth. Of course Aang was against the wealthy abusing the poor! There was no argument against that! It was just that he'd been focusing on the residents of Darkshire, whose plight he had already witnessed firsthand, rather than those with whom Dio seemed to most sympathize. And yet, somehow, Dio's outburst had made him feel more than a little awful about what he had said. It was true that Dio had disregarded those fearful residents to some degree, but at the same time, Aang hadn't even considered those Darkshire seemed so scared OF. He'd have to keep note in the future that the pity of most humans in this realm was far removed from that of the undead. In shame, Aang turned his head away from the group to see a bit of a strange phenomenon occur on the dance floor that it didn't seem Dio had yet observed - a flitting shadow of a man, who appeared to be attempting to avoid any other dancers and stick to the edges. Then, another sight caught his eye coming from the door, and he lost perception of the former entirely.

A girl, young, maybe about his age even, floated up to their table. Well, not literally, but she certainly walked with a grace that implied weightlessness. Not only that, but there was a strange and mildly entrancing aura about her. Almost as though time itself was pausing to appreciate her beauty. Wait, had he actually thought that? Well, she WAS pretty cute... But it seemed that she (and now she intruduced herself as Homura) and Dio had already made a bit of a connection, and Aang still didn't quite trust Dio. The two of them... They would be a combo to watch out for. He glanced up to Kuzan. It seemed that he was the only one who was making all of his intentions clear, even if they weren't the most obviously altruistic. His speech earlier, if not inspiring, had certainly given Aang a positive impression, or at least made him think that this one's intuition was clear, and that he wouldn't turn on anyone trying to do good here. If things went south, he hoped the tall, poofy man could escape unharmed.

Aang had thought that the dancers had quieted down in response to Dio's sudden outburst, but instead it was actually the beginning of a play of sorts. Dinner was served, the lights were dimmed, and players of all ages, varieties and... Species? Were suddenly center-stage, acting out a dramatic piece. Dio seemed to assume that the rest of the guests were now rapt with interest at the play, but it seemed to Aang that there was now far less noise on the dance floor and those who might overhear would do so more easily in this environment. Luckily, Dio's tone had managed to come down to a more incognito level seemingly on its own as he explained the current predicament. "I'm not scared of what I haven't seen. We'll have to check things out before we go all-in on it though, right? There's no way we'd just go flying on in to take on a crazy monster like that head-on... Right?" After a brief pause, he added, "How will we figure out how to beat it, if no one ever has before? Again, there's only four of us."

Of course, there were many more questions he'd wanted to ask. When was he planning on taking the offensive? Immediately? What role would each of them play in taking down the thing? Were more still to join their party, or was this it? But it wasn't just the two of them anymore. He calmed himself down, taking another sip of his tea. He'd let the others figure things out and ask their own questions before flooding Dio with his own. He had all night, after all.

[Alain the Carnedge]

The vast majority of the dancers moved with grace and elegance, flawlessly dancing to the music like they did this every day. The less refined guests, however, were either stomping on each other's feet or avoiding the dance floor entirely in fear of embarrassing themselves as the others were. It was an amusing display to watch the screw-ups of those who hold themselves so highly, but Alain tried his best to eavesdrop on the nearby group's discussion while keeping up his act instead of giving his full attention to the dance floor and ruining his chances to find some nefarious plot, or whatever else it could be...which wasn't going all that well.

Despite the others being completely absorbed in their little chat, the mercenary still hesitated to get closer in order to actually hear what they were talking about instead of catching small snippets of the conversation. Something about killing a terrible monster, from the sound of things. The obvious conclusion was that they were gunning for the Tarrasque; the hideous building-sized monstrosity that relentlessly attacked a village not too long ago. But, he had no way of knowing if his suspicions were correct other than walking up and asking them himself, or getting closer to eavesdrop on the conversation, both options being a potential risk to his health, though the conclusions he'd imagined weren't all that different in the end.

Carefully contemplating his chances, idly tapping his gloved finger on the table as he did so, the "thinking trance" that he was now in was suddenly shattered into a million pieces at the sound of a glass breaking on the floor, the apparent host furiously yelling at one of his companions. It was a pretty distinct display, a few of the partygoers turning their heads but wisely deciding to not interfere or comment in the interest of preserving their lives. The party-giver bowed his head at the child as what seemed to be an apology, though it was hard to tell from where Alain sat. The argument was then, apparently, forgotten about, as the kid's voice didn't raise, no standing up in fury and starting to walk away, or turning to strike the man. A servant merely brought the men their tea and the indignation of the host was merely a memory. The tall person then started to speak words that he could not hear, and the rest was history.

Alain was JUST about to give up and introduce himself, standing up in his chair before a woman wearing a wombat mask came into his view, heading straight for the self-proclaimed "hunter's" table. Her intentions were clear; she wanted to interrupt the chat in order to make her own place in the conversation. Alain took the opportunity, darkness spreading across his cloak while the table was occupied, the red being devoured by the black before anyone caught a glimpse of the mercenary fading into the shadow.

The music that he was barely paying attention to anymore changed as the woman was introducing herself, the band moving off their stage to make space for the actors and their play. Velgr chose not to pay attention to the tragic story which was snatching the spotlight, instead focusing on what he hoped were his new allies.

"Now, with the prying ears occupied elsewhere I'd like to make you all aware of the danger inherent in this mission. Other hunting teams have already tried and failed to down this beast, and in spite of it's size it's said to have lightning speed. However this all pales before it's regenerative ability which is rumored to only be stopped by an intense flame or acid that scours it's wounds. That all is coupled with a hide tougher than iron, even catapults and cannons have been unable to deal lasting damage. Now all of this is hearsay from survivors of previous parties and from the tales of militia who have tried to stop it from destroying their towns."

Each step was careful, masked by the movements of the passerby's. It wasn't long before he'd gotten directly behind who he assumed was the host, despite seeing a few other predator masks on the dance floor which contradicted his theory that said host was the only one with a predator mask, a golden wolf mask still stood out and seemed perhaps a bit egotistical, as if the man considered himself above these "peasants". Though, it was no business of the merc's to judge others and, honestly, he didn't especially care. What he did care about was taking the Tarrasque down, and what better way to do it than with a few helpers, or, meatshields? It was a perfect opportunity, and while nobody at the table seemed to hold a weapon, he assumed they must have had some form of magic to make up for it, otherwise why would they be trying to engage the abomination in good 'ol fisticuffs?

"Thus even I, Dio, cannot say for certain how true any of this is. Honestly if it weren't for my own abilities being as incredible as they are I wouldn't even dare to hunt this monster. Thus I have to make sure all of you are ready here, if we are to survive none of you can show a moment's hesitation in the face of this beast. One second of fear or cowardice can lead to all of our deaths. So if you doubt your ability to stare death in the eyes and charge forward in spite of the danger, I ask that you leave this table now. My heart could not bear it if any who were unwilling to lose their lives in pursuit of this goal were to be forced to fight. I will not shame any who decide to leave. This is a task that before which even the flame of a heroes courage may flicker and wither."

Velgr's opinion of the man who called himself Dio wasn't the highest, but the speech was executed very well. It sounded like he'd rehearsed it beforehand in preparation for this very moment. There were no objections, and nobody stood up to leave the table in fear of what was to come...not yet, anyway. I suppose this group could be worse. If all else fails, I can always just ditch 'em. The darkness then faded from his cloak, returning to the crimson while he was still standing behind Dio, looking like an assassin about to fulfill his duties and kill his target. Unfortunately, the other member's faces were obscured by their masks, but despite this, Alain was pretty certain that their expressions had changed from relatively calm to absolutely priceless. It was a shame, really, though perhaps a blessing-he might've broken down laughing and made everything awkward, and unlikely as it was, anything's possible.

The mercenary spoke before any attacks could be launched, speaking calmly for someone in his position. "Don't suppose you'd mind if I cut in?" Dio turned around at the sound of a voice, but Alain continued speaking before he could be interrupted. "My name's Velgr: Information broker and mercenary. I overheard your little chat and, well..." A sinister smile spread across his face, and while it couldn't be seen through the mask, it still managed to be surprisingly creepy. "...Don't suppose there's still room for one more in this ah, monster hunt?"

[Albert Wesker]

Kuzan had barely finished speaking when he felt, more than saw or even heard, the movement to his side. He turned ever so slightly to look at the newcomer as she spoke up to get a look at her out of the corner of one eye, while doing his best to keep an eye on Dio, at least, as well. He was fairly confident that the young man wasn't going to starting any trouble of his own volition. He didn't seem the type to start chaos without good reason. As for Dio, though...he could tell that his own message had been received less than favorably. That told him something. If it had been wholly dismissed, then it would have meant that mister Dio here was either a far better actor than the ice-man had initially pegged him as being, or that he was so incredibly arrogant he believed that he had no cause to worry at all. That it might have potentially been dismissed because he was as powerful as the former arrogance might imply didn't pass through his own mind.

But it wasn't dismissed entirely. And while there was, of course the chance that the disapproving look on their host's face was merely that: simple disapproval, perhaps at simply being so blatantly mistrusted....well, there was also every chance it wasn't. Regardless of any of that, though, it was clear that things were getting more out of hand and interesting with their little 'hunting party'. The new arrival, who introduced herself as Akemi Homura, offered her assistance in taking down the Tarrasque as well. In practically the next breath, she confirmed she was, ineed, another Prime.

The unpleasant taste in his mouth didn't rear up quite so strongly this time as it had when he had first overheard that the other young man -- Aang, was it? -- would be taking part in a hunt for such a dangerous beast. He was all too clearly a child. As for Homura....there was something that didn't add up about her. It wasn't so much anything about her appearance or demeanor, so much as an...odd feeling. She didn't really seem like someone of the demeanor and age her appearance suggested. She seemed far more...mature. It was just a little eerie, if not exactly unsettling. Something to keep in mind, but not to really worry about.

He turned his attention back fully to Dio just in time to witness a rather....energetic performance on his part, shattering a glass upon the floor. Coupled with what he had to say, it was certainly an extremely convincing act, if an act it was. He'd stopped being able to tell for certain as soon as he'd let his focus waver.

Soon enough after, the music faded to a much more somber tune, as the band once on stage trouped out, being replaced with a performance of some sort. Kuzan gave it only a cursory look, given he was much more invested in matters going on in his immediate vicinity. Dio choosing to speak up again, this time in a much more serious tone, the ice-man leaned ever so slightly forward, resting one forearm on the table in his familiar posture. What he heard did not sound good. Something that tough he could understand; that was a pretty usual theme back in his own world, most of the time. But something that big being that fast, well...that was going to be a real issue. Compounding all that would be its apparent regenerative capabilities, something that he would be out of his depth when dealing with. The ability of a Logia user to be blown apart and reform when Haki wasn't involved was as close as his reckoning came from personal experience. But somehow he doubted it would be quite like that.

Still...if all of that was just hearsay, that was something to potentially look forward to. Such reports and informaiton, considering their sources, were likely to be at least partially skewed from fear and memories hazy from combat, adrenaline, or any number of other things, making the information less than entirely reliable. With any luck, the information would turn out to have been exaggerated, and give them an easier time of things. But somehow, in the back of his mind, he had a feeling it wouldn't be.

It never was.

Dio seemed to say as much himself the next instant, and then went on to add how necessary it was that no one here would end up a liability, even offering those no longer sure of themselves to depart. For his own part, Kuzan merely sat up straighter in his chair, leaning back ever so slightly, though left his arm propped on the table. "This one sounds nastier than most...but it won't be the first giant creature I've gone after." He rolled his neck, elicting a sharp pop and a grimace, before he indicated Aang with an inclination of his nead. "Good point. I assume we've got some kind of plan, aside from the usual 'fight smart, not hard' strategy?"

The sudden appearance of someone standing behind Dio was enough to halt further questions from the former Admiral then and there. It looked all too similar to an assassination in progress, and while Kuzan couldn't say he cared much for Dio personally, just sitting back and watching would have left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, no matter who it was. A thin sheen of frost crept over the fingers of the hand not currently resting on the table, with a sound like thin ice crackling in protest of being moved. And a faint cloud of icy mist began to stream from the growing frost, more than ready to launch into an assault.

It soon became apparent that it wouldn't be necessary, as the newcomer spoke up, revealing himself as Velger: a mercenary, also here to offer his assistance. Though his expression remained neutral, save for a scowl which had unconsciously crept onto his features, the ice slowly covering his arm rapidly vanished, leaving not even a drop of vapor behind to show it had even been there.

This was really getting more and more out of hand.