Feast of the Winter Solstice (Closed)

[Marlowe J. Faust]

Marlowe stood on the second floor loggia; the young man straightened his tie as he stared out over his property. A soft dusting of snow had fallen across the expansive grounds, the slowly falling snowflakes danced in the reflected light of the gas lamps that lined the gated drive landing softly upon the skeletal branches of the nearby dogwood trees. The sky was lit with a brilliant gradient of colors as the winter sun began to set on the New England coast.

The boy came in from the snowy gallery back into the warmth of his bedroom. He carefully put on the dinner jacket he had been instructed to wear. The deep black fabric was almost weightless against his dress shirt. He buttoned the sleeves with care and admired its fit in the full-length mirror. His father’s jacket fit him perfectly, as if it had been tailored specifically for the son.

Marlowe’s glimpsed his reflection in the mirror. Until he was aware of it, there was a loving gaze in his eyes as he remembered his father. It faded as the boy became coldly fixated upon his natural face. His guests tonight would not recognized the thing that stood now staring at it’s own reflection. Raising a hand to touch the protrusions and plates that littered the oddly pigmented skin, the moment lasted only briefly before the sorcerer hid his face behind a powerful illusion. He at last wore the face that his visitors tonight would recognize as Marlowe Faust.

Tonight was an important night for the boy. This evening was the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, and tonight he would be reviving a family tradition that had not been practiced since his parent’s death; The Feast.

As the, now, red haired young man placed a flower in his lapel and left his room. The leather shoes he was wearing made only the slightest sound as he walked across the ornate carpeting in the corridor. Stepping down the staircase into the foyer, Marlowe looked down the length of the Great Hall, which connected to the entranceway. He was amazed by Robert’s hard work at decorating the open space.

Holly branches and poinsettias were carefully placed across the open space, creating a tasteful and subtle holiday feel. At the far end, a roaring fire blazed brightly in the carved fireplace with a brass fire screen seated before it. As tradition dictated, the flame must not be allowed to die until sunrise. Marlowe made his way to the hearth; moving the screen aside used the matching brass tongs to add another log to the fire.

Replacing the screen, the boy looked into the main dining room. The long table was set using fine china and meticulously shined silver tableware. Each seat marked with a place card written in Marlowe’s own precise handwriting. With the young man’s own position at the head of the table, he moved clockwise around the table and inspected each place setting…

Aleyne Kensington, Timothy Bastian, April Hymnoxlynpoxy, Diyar Atashband Delavar, Violet Lam, Kierin Saine

Then moving to the opposite side of the table, he continued. Reading each cream colored card in turn …

Valerie Bower, Dimitri Demetropolous, Ingrid Tsurara, Bob, Eleanor Smith, Barjnal

Each setting was in perfect order. Silver placed on each side of the white china plate, a cloth napkin resting atop the dish. Above the china rested a trio of glasses for each person, a water goblet and two wine glasses. Though he knew the Sisters might not approve, Marlowe’s European sensibilities could not let him host a fine dinner and not offer at the least a single glass of wine. Robert had standing instructions to deny wine to any guest that should arrive by driving or that were in danger of making a scene.

Marlowe returned to the hall to await the arrival of his guests. The large clock chimed from the mantle, it’s low bell tolling five times, merely a moment later a louder bell chimed as the doorbell rang at the front door. The first guest was here and, taking unseen servant’s corridors, Robert made his way to invite them in.

[QueenCobra]

As Marlowe got his party ready, Valerie Bower was walking on the streets of Croatoa with her Uncle. As she and her uncle walked, they saw an old man limping across the street, apparently in some sort of hurry.

The man spotted them, and quickly ran up to them.

"The night is upon us! Never-ending night! Evil night! Beware! Beware!", the man spouted crazily.

Then, he got a look at Val's face.

"A demon! A demon! The evil is already upon us! The darkness is possessing our women!"

The man limped past the pair, and stumbled on through the streets.

Valerie and her uncle looked at each other uncomfortably and walked to their car. As Val got into the driver's seat, her Uncle Gordon Bower sighed and looked back at the man.

Soon, they were on the roads, well on their way to Marlowe's party.

As she drove, she thought back on the situation. She got an invitation, from Marlowe, for some reason. Sure, she's seen him around, but she wasn't sure if she's ever held more than a two-sentence conversation with him. Weird. Usually for her to be invited to a fancy party she'd have to actually somewhat know the person.

"Valerie! Eyes on the road!!", her uncle shrieked

Valerie quickly stopped zoning out and turned quickly out of the way of a passing SUV. She sat there quitely with her uncle from then on out, her focusing on driving and him wondering why he let Val drive.

After a quick pit-stop ("Valerie Vanessa Bower, why didn't you fill up on gas before we left?!") the car finally reached the huge mansion. Valerie looked up in wonder at its marvelous height, and wondered why Marlowe hadn't invited her to a party before.

The pair knocked on the door, and was greeted by Marlowe J. Faust and his butler. After the introductions were made, her Uncle turned to Val.

"Now Valerie, call me when you would like me to pick you up...", Uncle Gordon started.

Marlowe's butler explained that he could drive the children back to the train station, but Uncle Gordon refused and insisted he picked up Val himself. Good ol' overprotective Uncle, I guess.

Val entered the mansion, and didn't know what to expect for the night...

[Kierin]

I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, then stuffed my hands into my pockets, frowning.

This house was huge.

I wasn't expecting this. I knew Marlowe was far from poor - I could tell by his articulate speech that he was well-bred - but the sheer size of the mansion he lived in was making me feel small. I still wasn't sure why I accepted the invitation in the first place. I rubbed my eyes, trying to focus. I felt tired, and slightly dazed, but I hoped that as I joined dinner, with everyone around, it might get cleared up somewhat. This was a bit more than I bargained for, though.

The door opened, and Marlowe invited me in. I could just barely recognize him from the short time I spent with him in the Rikti Warzone. He was very polite, though I tried to make sure I caught any of the subtle acid I had heard in his words over the comm. He led me to the table, which was impressively covered with expensive-looking dishes. I found a card at one of the places with my name on it, and felt a little relieved that it was on the back corner of the table.

I sat down, feeling extremely self-conscious of my torn coat and messed-up hair. I had completely forgotten in my recent absentmindedness to dress well… and there was no combing my hair with the wind just messing it back up again. Oh well.

I almost wished I hadn't come, but it was too late now. I had to try to enjoy myself as much as I could. Either way, it would be over soon.

[Sunfire Dervish]

Diyar tapped his iPod, changing songs to something less depressing. He sighed, bringing his hand up and running it through his hair. Heh…guess mom was right…it is getting a bit long… he thought, a grin slowly growing on his face. The tram shuddered and he looked up, startled. There were maybe four other people in the car with him, all of them with their faces buried in a newspaper or staring out of the windows.

He followed suit, turning to the window to his right. He wasn’t exactly sure where they were…the sun had already started setting, and the view was slowly getting darker. Oh well.

Diyar turned so that he was facing forward again, his left hand reaching into the pocket of his coat. He pulled out a thin envelope, the corners of which had been slightly crumpled, and gazed at the front. In large, elaborate, flowing letters it read “Diyar Atashband Delavar.” He stared for a minute or two, soaking it all in, trying to remember who the hell it was he was going to see. He pulled out the invitation again and read it.

…you are cordially invited to be the guest of Master Marlowe J Faust…please arrive at 5 o’clock in the evening…dinner will be served in celebration…

Diyar closed his eyes. Marlowe…Marlowe…where do I know that name from? He’s a student, I know that. But why did he invite me? I don’t think I’d recognize him even if I saw him… He opened his eyes with a slight chuckle. And why the hell did you RSVP?

Diyar stopped for a moment. He didn’t know why he had. Something inside him just pushed him, was gnawing at him to go, until he finally called the Faust mansion to RSVP. He didn’t really know what it was…he wasn’t even sure if it was The Flame that told him to do it.

The Flame… Diyar shuddered. If there was ever a time he didn’t want HIM to start getting restless, it would be tonight. Ever since he had asked his grandfather about it, it seemed that much more dangerous; to be feared that much more. And with Sam putting her foot down and vowing to stop him from patrolling if he ever tried, it almost seemed as if The Flame was getting bored.

There was a slight screeching, and Diyar looked up from his thoughts. The sky was dark now, the last traces of the sun sinking beneath the horizon. The train was slowing as it neared the station. Diyar turned off his iPod and stashed it in his other coat pocket. The tram stopped, and he hopped up, exiting with the others in his car. The night air was cold, the wind biting. Diyar zipped up his jacket and walked down to the street. A few taxis were parked, their drivers outside smoking and joking around, waiting for riders. Diyar walked up and caught the attention of one of them.

“Where you need to be, kid?”

Diyar ignored the kid remark, holding up the crumpled invitation and pointing at the address to show the driver. “I need to get to the Faust Mansion. Can you drive me there?”

The cabby whistled, his eyes widening for a second. “Uh…yeah kid…no problem. Any bags?”

Diyar shook his head, opening the door to the back and getting into the cab. The cabby jumped into the car and drove off towards the mansion. They were both silent: Diyar not really wanting to talk and the cabby not wanting to know why he was dropping someone off at a place like the Faust Mansion...

[Bob-Zombie]

The air is crisp and cold as it whooshes past my ears and whips my hair around. At least that's the way other people tell me it should feel. In reality, I barely feel a thing. A little cold I guess. That's the trouble with being "non-stationary dead". The spirit is willing but the flesh is numb.

A solid whump as my feet hit ground and more whooshing as I take off on the rebound. I jump pretty far when I need to get somewhere. Part of my charmed existence. So here I am bounding over the landscape outside Paragon City. I'd take a taxi but I'm broke and most drivers like their fares to have a pulse.

I'm going to a party. Not the kind of loud, crazy parties I usually like either. This is formal, "The Feast of the Winter Solstice" hosted by Marlowe J. Faust.

Three weeks ago, I got a letter in the mail. Really nice fancy envelope. Classy, thick yellowish paper, looks like it might have been handwritten with a fountain pen. Consider that I don't know who I was before my current state of existence, I'm a ward of MAGI in a Catholic boarding school, and I don't leave filigreed calling cards when I'm out, I'm thinking, "What the heck?" It's an invite. What's a "Feast of the Winter Solstice?" "Marlowe J. Faust?". Who is this clown?

I was going to crumple it up and toss it under my bed but that felt wrong. Stuck it in a book and figured I'd forget about it. Lay down and shut myself off for the night. Sometimes I dream but that night wasn't one of them.

Next morning I did the usual. Make myself as presentable as possible. Been working on keeping my body fresher. When I don't fix myself up, I look like a dessicated corpse. A little work, and the flesh fills out so I could pass for a heroin addict with a skin condition. I just have to make sure I keep that up – the girls hate it when chunks of meat fall off me. I splash on some after shave too to cover any smell. Not like I can smell it anyway but I think it helps.

Later, I'm asking around about "Marlowe".

Stasis (skinny gal; platinum blond; nice legs) says, "Marlowe? Oh, *him*. Isn't he that guy that's like, uber polite isn't it? He sounds like he's got a poker strapped to his back all the time. Way weird."

Sam (friendliest girl on the football team; cute out of uniform too) piped up with, "He's a good guy. He seems a little on the creepy side with his hocus-pocus stuff, but he's still a real good guy."

Ves (tiny, dark skinned gal with elf ears; put together nicely though) says, "Marlowe? He's a wizard. I can tell you that. And he does some pretty cool stuff with fire."

I got words from other people too but I was already hooked. This guy uses magic. Creepy magic. I exist because of creepy magic. I'm the high-school attending version of a horror movie monster, for crying out loud! Maybe he's got a line on what I really am. Better than what those MAGI nutjobs have been telling me anyway.

Almost there. Need a spot where I can change into my school uniform. Can't go jumping all over the place wearing that thing. It's embarrassing and I don't want to rip it. But it's as formal as I've got.

I do a double take when I get near. Marlowe must own half of the damn state! The grounds are huge and the place looks like a museum. No one will see me behind the shrubbery so I change there. Nicely kept shrubbery too.

This place feels weird. Maybe I'm just not used to there being so much open space. Maybe it's the way everything looks like it's from a fantasy book. Who knows? There's a light snow everywhere. Except this one spot on the road in front of the main gate. It feels kind of warm there. Weird. I shrug and head for the mansion.

Given that I got invited, I wonder what other freaks will be there?

[Barjnal]

The checkered taxi that picked them up from the front gate of the school drove quickly through the crisp, clear dark. The ground seemed to glow, the recent snowfall catching the light of tonight's high, small moon. Barji sat still and oddly quiet as the terrain sped by him. When Timothy mentioned that he'd gotten an invitation to Marlowe's party Barji's first reaction had been to tell him not to go. He'd recognized the aura of demonic magic that lingered around Marlowe, subtle as a good cologne but much less sweetly smelling. If there were more demons in the house or if their own initial impressions of Marlowe were wrong then Timothy's bond with Barjnal might be recognized, the demonic nature of it discerned, and the missing pit fiend returned to whence he came.

Don't be ridiculous, Timothy had admonished him telepathically. Marlowe's too smart to try to do anything. There will be other students there. He won't pull anything in front of them that will expose him. And even if he did try something, you're bound to me. They can't take you back.

I know you're right, he'd responded, but his apprehension flowed freely through their bond. But I still don't like it. I mean, I guess there should be somebody there who knows a lot about demonic magic just in case something happens, and I kind of fit the bill.

Exactly. It'd be a good opportunity for us to learn more about him. We can see what kind of threat he is. We've had concerns about him since he showed up, haven't we?

Barjnal was swayed by Timothy's argument, but they still didn't know why they'd been invited. Barjnal tugged at the sleeve of his sports coat to straighten it, to vent some of his anxiety about the coming evening through physical action. They'd protected themselves with magical wards as best as they could, but they weren't experts and they hadn't wanted to ward themselves too strongly lest it arouse Marlowe's suspicions or ire. If something happened he was sure they'd feel the brunt of it, and his confidence in his ability to defend himself was shaky at best.

He felt a quick nudge to his shoulder. Stop worrying. It'll be alright, Timothy told Barj as he settled his hand back into his lap. Barj smiled with appreciation.

The high brick wall of the estate appeared in the passenger window and the taxi, in short order, made its way through the wrought iron gate. The high gothic ridges and arches, lit dramatically by the floodlights and gas lamps on the lawn, screamed of an eccentric wizard's unusual tastes. It was immense, incredible, astounding. Timothy paid the driver and they got out of the car, Timothy leading the way down the path and up the steps to the immense door of the mansion. Barjnal followed silently a few steps behind him. Timothy knocked. This set Barjnal's skin to skin prickling, his magical senses calling him to alarm. The great door opened, and Barjnal knew the cause for his apprehension.

"Welcome. Please come in," said Robert, smiling in greeting.

The manservant was emanating demonic magic. While invisible to the untrained eye, to Barji's enhanced senses it spilled out of him like a thick, green fog. As the new information and the alarm that accompanied it registered in Barjnal's mind, Robert's gaze shifted to Barjnal. Robert's expression remained unchanged except for a small glimmer of understanding in his eyes. He turned to Timothy.

"Your names, please, so that I may announce your arrival?"

[Karakuriya]

The street lights flashed across her face and Aeon sighed, looking to the invitation she turned over in her hands again. The heavy ivory cardstock, the embossing, the calligraphy--it was all so fancy and out of place. Compelling...though not quite in the manner she was accustomed to seeing out of Daedalus. They had no hand in this.

Marlowe J. Faust. He was a student, was he not? One of the magic users who stood somewhat removed from the Catholic population. So...if he didn't even know her, wasn't involved in that mess, or her mess, why had he invited her?

Did he sense the same thing she had, that X-factor that had SERAPH stumped? Her father, Grandpapa, soul science, the war... Is that why she had accepted the invitation? Masochistic curiosity. Was she in danger?

Aeon tucked her rosary back into her clutch and smoothed her consigned dress again: a high-necked flute of black lace and burgundy organza that fishtailed in a waterfall of floral embroidery and topped with a "V" of vintage mink. It was hard to resist rubbing the fur against her cheek, but she was consoled by knowing she wouldn't destroy it with skin oils. Maybe she was overdressed. Maybe she should have brought a gift. She prayed she wasn't late like always.

A frown began to crease her placid features as the red digits of the fare meter ticked higher. She checked her blades, pulled on her gloves, and fished her debit card out of her purse as the taxi finally crept to a stop in front of the massive Faust estate. The crisp winter wind, a cold front moving in, made her skin tingle in anticipation. Like it was back then. Only now she was running solo.

[Frigid Ingrid]

The train platform was crowded, wet, and cold, but Ingrid barely noticed as she slipped through the throngs of late shoppers and holiday travellers to the taxi stand outside the station. In spite of her nickname and magical predilictions, she was no more immune to the discomfort of winter weather than any other person, but her mind was pre-occupied with other matters this evening, and what focus she had was directed towards the needs of her journey.

Ingrid wasn't really about journeys. Or even destinations. In truth, she much preferred that things be brought to her.

Miraculously, there was a cab available, and the dark-skinned girl handed a card with Marlowe's address to the driver before settling herself into the back seat. As the car pulled out into the streets of Providence, Ingrid's thoughts were already beginning to drift.

Marlowe J. Faust. She knew who he was. Shared two classes with him even. They'd never spoken directly, but she clearly remembered feeling a strange tug one day as he passed her in the halls. She'd had to restrain herself from involuntarily sending a chilly blast in his direction, going so far as to mutter a spell of True-seeing for the sole purpose of redirecting her energies to a safer path. Was it her imagination, or was there a momentary blur when she glanced back at Marlowe with the enhanced sight? Whatever it was, it didn't last long. If he was concealing anything, he warded it too well for her to penetrate with her meager abilities.

But then, Ingrid already knew that Faust was the real deal.

He'd been watching her for some time, she was sure. She'd caught him following her with his eyes on a number of occasions. Not in the way that other boys did. Rumour had it he didn't even like girls that way. Ingrid was not a great believer in rumour, but still, she knew Marlowe's interest was more esoteric than primal. She didn't know how she knew, she just did.

She wasn't surprised to receive an invitation from him. If he was the true mage she believed him to be, than he was also a seeker after knowledge. No doubt he had sensed her aura and her potential. It was possible that he already had a greater understanding of what had happened to her than she did herself. If he had questions for her, she was willing to trade knowledge for knowledge. It was possible that he could be of great help to her. It was equally possible that he sought to use her in some way...

"Offer nothing. Agree to nothing. Sign nothing." The mantra rang out so clear in her head, she could almost swear the thought was put there by another. Fanciful thinking, of course. Ingrid smiled to herself as she reached into her purse for money to pay the driver.

"Nice house," she thought, as the cab pulled away behind her.

[April]

April clutched her sky blue coat, shivering a bit as she got off the station platform and away from the crowds. As she stepped into the open, the air felt crisp against her skin, as well as her hair with a gentle wind slowly rising. However, April's face didn't enjoy the bitter cold at all, as she winced whenever the wind stirred up with a gust to the face.

"This is madness!" April exclaims, looking backwards at the multitude of people getting on and off the train, for shopping, relative visits, or whatever reason it is. Even when it's freezing, people still seem to have a reason to go out. April thinks to herself.

She looks around a bit to see if she can spot any of her fellow students that were also invited, but alas she sees nobody. She doesn't even see a cab around. Figures, this is what happens when you stuff yourself onto a full train. Dummy, dummy dummy! Should have planned beforehand! April badgers herself with her mind as she goes over what she should have done earlier. Marlowe would probably scold her for not being properly prepaired if he found out her situation.

April still wonders how she got herself into this situation to begin with. Was it the "field trip" experience she wanted, hanging out with her friends, or the free meal planned? Or was it something else within her that wanted her to go. April has no idea, but she's going to use this time as constructively as possible. She know Marlowe J. Faust was a wizard, and excellent in the arts of magic, and she's even seen him a few times as well. But she's never actually approached him, or even spoken to him before. April figures that she can use this time to get to know him better, ask him some questions about her own situation with her powers, and get a free, stylish meal out of it too. Especially her powers.

Perhaps Marlowe would be able to explain better why April still retains power over the nether. She originally received them when she was posessed by a nether shade, but that is now a thing of the past since it was severed from her soul sucessfully, even if it nearly killed her. But even with herself unposessed, not only does she still have powers of the nether, but it's been amplified, which scares April even more. It was the Circle of Thorns that helped April in a strange deal, and it was their magic that severed the shade from her. If Marlowe is so fantastic when it comes to magic, perhaps he can help herself out by deciphering what exactly is going on within her.

Lost in her thoughts, April finally comes to as a strong wind hits her face, freezing her to the bone as it chills her skin. She remembers now that she has to get to Marlowe's place, and still sees not a single taxi in the area. Though she remembers the general direction of where she needs to go, thanks to the directions that was given with the invitation.

She pulls out the letter from her coat pocket to open it up again, the yellowish paper crinkling in her red mittens. Unfolding it, she reads over the directions that were given from the station, in that strange, hauntingly neat handwritten script of his. She looks it over, reads the directions, puts it to memory, and folds the paper up again, shoving it in her coat pocket swiftly, crumpling the paper up even more. But she didn't care about the paper right now, she just wanted to get out of the cold, and the wind. Her earmuffs weren't doing much for her face.

"Ooh, I wish my coat had a hood. What was my mother thinking when she bought this for me?" April wasn't going to wait for a taxi to come by, if ever. She decided to take her own route with her own powers. And while she usually doesn't enjoy using her powers of the nether out in public, she really didn't care right now, as the crowds were starting to thin out, and the cold was only getting colder.

Putting her hands out to her side, April concentrates for a moment, drawing up clouds of darkness around her feet, clouds of nether enegies. They begin to swirls around her ankles, enveloping her feet entirely, obscuring anyone's vision trying to look at them, even her own.

"Well, here goes nothing..." April says, as she jumps into the air, the nether carrying her like a weightless feather. She leaps forwards towards the direction of Marlowe's estate, floating up gracefully with each skip, and floating down even more gently as she prepares for her next step forward. The nether practically makes her weightless, as she bounds through the skies as if she can define gravity to be whatever she wants.

Sadly, the nether isn't fantastic for blocking the wind against her face as she jumps along, and she winces in pain from the bitter cold, her hair flicking around behind her as she leaps through the air at a high speed. I should be almost there, I can see the woods that were described in the directions below me. April thinks to herself. As she gracefully floats down for her next step up, the forests on her path get thicker, and the land becomes more of nature. Oh yeah, I must definitally be on his estate now, this area is huge... and awesome to look at! So much nature... April rambles on within her head. There it is, I see the house!

April brings herself down some yards away from the house. She thought it'd be rude to just jump onto the front step considering the formalities. As she lands on the ground gently, the nether disappates from her ankles, revealing her black shoes to the world again. Her skirt was doing a lousy job of keeping away the cold, but her coat and sweater underneath kept her body warm. Since she had nothing that was very formal, she wore her school uniform, hoping that it would suffice.

"Marlowe... lets see if all those rumors about you are true. I really hope not." April speaks to calm herself down, her heart beating as she gazes upon the monstrosity of a mansion that was before her. She walked up to the door along the driveway, strolled on the pathway up to the doorstep through the well kept front yard, stepped up to the gigantic doorway, and rang the bell.

[Elly]

"Miss Smith, please remember..."

It was almost instinctive for Elly to ignore any statement preceded by "Miss Smith" by this point. Besides, she'd heard the whole speech twice already.

"...are to remain on the grounds until I or another MAGI representative return..."

First by Sister Moltar. Then by that MAGI jerkass whose name she couldn't pronounce but who had apparently been the one to lobby for the increase in her hours. And now by this rookie mage Bert who had drawn the short straw and got to escort her to the Faust manor. She closed her eyes and took some joy knowing she could probably take him down in about five seconds, if she felt like it.

But she would put up with all of it. She hadn't been allowed to leave the city limits in months, and MAGI had been getting more nosy about her life by the moment. But suddenly this Marlowe guy she didn't even know had sent her an invitation to have dinner at his house (manor!) in Providence. So she'd gone straight to Azuria, and explained that she'd gotten this formal invitation, and there would be chaperones present, plus several other students with exemplary records both in school and in the field, most of them also MAGI-sponsored, and it would be rude to refuse... and amazingly, Azuria had bought it.

"...will be searched when you return, so it would be pointless to take advantage of..."

So here she was, in a taxi on the way to a mansion, to enjoy some food that wasn't served with an ice cream scoop. And to talk and relax without feeling like some damn penguin or mage was watching her every move, waiting for her to screw up. All MAGI could do from this distance was scry her location, and the nuns couldn't even do that much. So she just had to stay on the property and she wouldn't raise any red flags. It wasn't the D, but it was sure as hell better than campus, even if it was only for a few hours.

She didn't have a clue who Marlowe was, but she could kiss him anyway.

The taxi pulled onto a lengthy road. No, Elly realized abruptly, this was a driveway. Holy shit, how loaded was this kid, and how'd she manage to get his attention?

Bert seemed impressed as well, especially when they were met by a butler at the entrance.

"Welcome to the manor. Mister and Miss Smith, I assume?"

"Oh, no, sir, I'm not her father. I'm here on behalf of MAGI. Bert Caspian." He stuck out a hand, which the butler accepted after a moment. "MAGI has legal custody of Miss Smith. There are a few things we need to make clear, however..." And he went into the entire list of "thou shalt not"s a fourth time for the servant's benefit. Elly tuned him out and examined the building, shivering slightly in the frigid air. Wow. Kinda creepy in its design, but still gorgeous. And huge. She wondered if there'd be a tour.

The butler politely listened to Bert's ramblings, nodded and gave assurance that Elly would be taken care of, then offered an elbow. "Miss, if you could come with me, the young master is waiting with the other guests."

Bert tapped her on the shoulder as she started up the steps. "Now remember--"

"No smoking, no drinking, no stealing, no fleeing for Canada, no burning the place down. I heard you the first billion times already, for fu--" She self-censored. "--for Christsake." Still enough to get an annoyed look from the uptight Bert, but not enough for him to order her back into the taxi and return her to campus.

The butler ahemed, and she wondered if she was going back to Paragon anyway, but the noise was directed to her escort. Bert continued to frown as he got back in the taxi. "Try to be on your best behavior, Miss Smith. Remember the meaning of the word 'guest.'"

Like she couldn't go three hours without breaking something. What was this, preschool? She turned away from the retreating cab and rolled her eyes.

The butler led her inside, and she shivered again. But not from the cold this time: the bracers had tingled for a second. Odd.

[Vesper Fiend]

The cab ride seemed interminably long, and the beauty of the snow-blanketed landscape was mostly lost on the lone occupant. For the umpteenth time that night, Ves smoothed the fabric of her dress. She'd never been invited anywhere so, so formally, and she hoped the dress that she wore for homecoming would be acceptable. It would also, she reasoned, be good to get some additional use out of it.

She had opted for the more expensive cab. The heavy, black overcoat she wore would keep some of the wind out, but she didn't want to wait in the cold for a cab from the train station. In hindsight, the train ride might have been more interesting, or at least less lonely. Though the cab driver had tried to make small-talk, the conversation had fallen flat with the nervous passenger, leaving only the sounds of the engine and the road noise to fill the void.

She ran a self-conscious hand through her hair, wishing again that she'd had time to do something with it, but the normal, slightly wild and unkempt look that it settled into would have to do for the night. Hopefully Marlowe wouldn't be expecting anything more.

Of course, she didn't really know what Marlowe would be expecting. She had spoken to him only a handful of times, and certainly never discussed what he thought would be an appropriate appearance for a dinner party. She got the impression that he would expect something very formal and proper, something that she usually wasn't. In fact, she wondered why he was inviting her, at all. She had fought by his side a few times. His mastery of fire and the way he put it to use was certainly impressive, and she found his other sorcerous talents somewhat curious.

Ves thought back to an incident in pocket D where Marlowe had been demonstrating his powers. The magic he had conjured had sent cold chills up her spine, different but similar to the feelings her own powers gave her. Since then, she had been somewhat intrigued by the secretive, well-spoken young man. She wanted to get to know more about him, but she was never certain how to approach him.

Her thoughts were cut short as the taxi slowed to a stop at its destination. Ves exited the car, eyes wide in wonder as she surveyed the massive structure. The crunching of her boots on the pea-gravel driveway drew her attention to the grounds, though much of the landscaping was shrouded by the growing darkness brought by evening. The entire place seemed both charmingly decadent and eerily foreboding. She paid the cab driver, mumbling a few words of thanks, before climbing the steps to the door. Pausing for a moment, she hoped she wasn't too late as she rang the doorbell.

[Dimitri Demetropolous]

"Thank you Desire, I appreciate the ride."

"Any time mon ami." The TaxiBot named Desire said to Dimitri as he let him out at the enourmous mansion.

Dimitri made his way up the front walk. There was something about this house that made him feel both apprehensive and uneasy. It was massive. It reminded him of a mansion that was in one of his favorite films. Although Dimitri was not at all going to enter saying, "Avon Calling!" Nor did he expect to find Edward waiting in the attic. But still he was intimidated by this. Viola Ritchie spoke of such elegance, but her idea of it, was more modern. This house had a classic feel to it.

Dimitri held his invitation in hand. He remembed when he first met Marlowe J. Faust. He accidentally insulted him by referring to the classic play. Then even had the nerve to ask, "How's Kit?"

"Stupid!" He said aloud as he continued up the walk. From a distance he could see the door opening and someone being let in. He wasn't sure who it was. But still, he walked on. He'd been off of suspension for a few days now and was determined to get back to being his old self once again. Over and over, he explained to himself,

"Appetizer, soup, salad, sorbet, meat...dammit, no, Salad, soup..."

His hands began to shake. He wondered how formal of an affair this would be. He was dressed appropriately nonetheless. He wore a black dinner jacket and a shirt of deep crimson. He'd parted his silver hair to the side and tried to make it as untidy as possible. He reached up and made sure his tie was still intact.

"Calm down. Double windsor. The forks go from the outside in." he thought.

He finally made his way up the walk and just stared at the massive door.

"Well go on. Knock." He said to himself. But he remained frozen. This house...something about it. He wasn't quite sure if he was ready to enter. Why had Marlowe invited him. After all, Dimitri had insulted him. Dimitri's wandering mind began to drift again. For a brief moment, he felt like Carrie White. He even looked up.

"That's just silly. There's no bucket of pig blood waiting for you." He assured himself. But he still couldn't find the nerve to knock. He wished Cody was with him but he knew that would never happen again. He finally knocked on the door. He could hear it inside and it sounded like thunder.

"My eyes are tormented by all but the faintest illumination. Odors assail me constantly, and as I've said, sounds of any degree whatsoever inspire me with terror." He thought as the door opened and he was shown inside.

[Marlowe J. Faust]

The flame haired young man stood amongst his guests in the Great Hall, the gathered group looked apprehensive. They had gathered into a few small clusters of those that knew one another and the few that stood apart from the group. The young mage stood apart from the group, his back to the roaring blaze in the hearth.

The dulcet melody of an unseen quartet resonated through the hall; the tune of “Good King Wenceslas” began. The quiet music seemed only to heighten the sense of quiet amongst the guests. Reaching for a small bell that sat atop the mantle, Marlowe rang it sharply; the unexpected tone surprised a few of the gathered teenagers.

In response to the sound, the older man appeared in the rear of the hall with a tray of champagne flutes, each filled with a sparkling off white liquid. The man made his way toward the gathered quests, his long silver hair tied back impeccably and his face stoic. Beginning with the young master of the house, Robert made his way to each guest and waited for him or her to take one of the crystal glasses. Once each was served, he returned to Marlowe’s side, whispered a quick statement and quietly disappeared to the kitchen.

The young man raised his flute in a toast and began to speak to his company.

“Firstly, thank you all for granting me the pleasure of your company for this wonderful evening. I know that a few of you do not know me from Adam’s off ox but I do hope that we may be able to remedy that this evening. Also, let me thank you for making the arduous journey from the comfortable city out into the wilds of Rhode Island.” Marlowe chuckled politely at the last, amusing himself if not the other with his attempt at levity.

“Tonight, with your help, I am bringing back a long standing family tradition; the Feast of the Winter Solstice. My family has long held a banquet for close friends and business associates on this night. This night, long ago has had great cultural significance across the globe. Quite oddly enough, this is the night that was once believed to be the night of the young Messiah’s birth. That is until the Catholic Church banned it as a pagan practice. Tonight though we celebrate the renewal of the sun’s return, as the next three days of the year contain the shortest amount of sunlight and the longest nights of the year.”

“Robert has put together a fantastic menu for our celebration, I do hope you all enjoy the menu and the company. I do hope you forgive the use of grape juice for a toast but none-the-less… Zum Wohl!”

With the traditional German toast, Marlowe took a sip from the glass. As his speech ended Robert came into to the hall again and spoke. “Dinner is now prepared, sir.” He waited at the end of the hall with a large silver tray to collect the glasses from the guests as they made their way to the dining room.

Marlowe motioned to the end of the hall, towards the foyer they had each entered through. Across the foyer the extravagant dining room awaited. “Shall we?” Marlowe asked the group.

[April]

This place is huge!

That's all April could think for at least 5 minutes after being welcomed by the butler and allowed inside. Even as she chatted among her peers as she saw them in the Great Hall, she couldn't get that thought out of her head, almost as if she were enchanted by the structure's own majesty.

As quickly as she was enthralled, the feeling left her even quicker when Marlowe rang a bell, a signal to the guests for a speech, she presumed, after she had a small jump similar to a chill in her spine from being suprised by the bell. The older gentleman that April presumed to be the butler began to give out champaign glasses to everyone, and when he approached her offering a glass, April made a slightly audible gulp as she reached for the glass, unsure of what exactly what in there. Her imagination began racing about all the different possiblities, from poison to a mind control liquid, and even beyond.

“Firstly, thank you all for granting me the pleasure of your company for this wonderful evening. I know that a few of you do not know me from Adam’s off ox but I do hope that we may be able to remedy that this evening. Also, let me thank you for..." Marlowe kept on, but April was lost in thought already, partially due to the creepy silence that came over the entire area as he spoke, and partially due to being slightly scared. She wondered, what if it was alcohol? April has never touched alcohol all her life, but she knows that in these types of glasses, champaign is usually served, like she has seen in wedding and New Years celebrations in the past.

"...am bringing back a long standing family tradition; the Feast of the Winter Solstice. My family has long held a banquet for close friends and business..."

April was barely paying attention her heart racing from a combination of nervousness, awe, and fear. Nervousness from Marlowe, awe from the majestic mansion, and fear from the glass of liquid she received. She could barely concentrate and thoughts kept pouring into her head, especially if the glass was alcohol. What if it was, and she refused to drink it? Would she be thrown out for not being classy enough? Would it be a rude gesture? What if she drank it? Would she turn into an alcoholic bum like she has seen on the streets of Paragon City?

"...enjoy the menu and the company. I do hope you forgive the use of grape juice for a toast but none-the-less… Zum Wohl!”"

April's ears perked up at the words "grape juice", and she breathed a sigh a relief as her racing heart slowed down from ease. It was nothing more than simple grape juice as he said, so with a toast uf Zum Wohl(Garbled a bit since April didn't exactly hear it clearly due to her thoughts, but clear enough to go along with everyone else), April lifted the glass to her mouth and took a sip. As Marlowe said, it was completely grape juice, cool to the lips and refreshing to take in. She gulped it out in one shot after the first taste, smiled, and giggled a bit too, trying to gain confidence from her prior nervousness.

As she finished her drink, she heard the butler speaking out of dinner being prepared. Marlowe motioned towards the foyer, to where across from that, his dining room was. With a "Shall we?" from Marlowe, April began to move in that direction, being the closest to the exitway. As she passes through, she place her glass down gently upon the tray that awaited their collection.

Her heels made an audible noise on the hard, polished floor with each step she took, weirding her out again about how gigantic this place was. April swore to herself that she could hear echos, and before she could strain her hearing to tell if it really did, she was in the Dining Room. And what a fantastic sight for her eyes it was! Beautiful furniture, fantastic, sparkling china and silverware, multitudes of glasses and utensils, and a name card in front of each place. April walked around the table, gaping her mouth a bit as she looked upon it with the same awe as when she entered the building in the first place, but corrected herself quickly.

"Lets see... where's my seat? Kierin Saine... Violet Lam... Diyar Atashband Delavar... April, there we go!

She pulled out her chair, which was suprisingly heavy, but solid and well built, and seated herself at the table in her spot.

[Sunfire Dervish]

The flame haired young man stood amongst his guests in the Great Hall, the gathered group looked apprehensive. Diyar was off in one of the many groups that had gathered, preferring to stand and talk with Vesper and Ingrid. He glanced up and noticed Marlowe slowly looking from group to group, stopping to talk with a guest that went up to talk with him. He nudged Ves with his hand and pointed with his chin towards Marlowe.

"Ok...so that's him, right?"

Ves tilted her head towards Diyar, her face wearing a look of slight confusion, and then nodded. "Yeah...that's Marlowe...what, you mean you said you'd come to someone's house who you didn't even know?" Ingrid rolled her eyes and snickered at Diyar.

Diyar just shrugged. "Hey, can't turn up free food...besides, I recognized him from over the summer, in the bunker and what not...I just never really got to know him that well."

He was about to ask for more information on his host when music from an unseen source filled the hall. It sounded like an older song, and Diyar raised an eyebrow in curiosity. He looked around; apparently, the music had cut short everyone's conversations, because the room was now eerily quiet, aside from the music resonating through the house. The music gradually faded, and Diyar breathed out, realizing only then that he had been holding his breath. Reaching for a small bell that sat atop the mantle, Marlowe rang it sharply; Diyar turned quickly in surprise.

The butler entered the room, carrying a tray of champagne flutes, each one filled. Diyar's eyes widened a little, not from seeing alcohol, but from the realization of just how un-classy he really was. He looked down at the suit he had pulled on only a few hours earlier and sighed, suddenly very self-conscious of the bright-red bow tie he had worn instead of his normal tie. Shoulda just asked Bri for help... Marlowe recieved his flute first and waited for the rest of the guests to recieve their drink. The young man raised his flute in a toast and began to speak to his company. Diyar listened politely, his right hand held out, holding his glass, the other jammed in his pocket for a lack of anything better to do with it.

“Tonight, with your help, I am bringing back a long standing family tradition; the Feast of the Winter Solstice. My family has long held a banquet for close friends and business associates on this night. This night, long ago has had great cultural significance across the globe. Quite oddly enough, this is the night that was once believed to be the night of the young Messiah’s birth. That is until the Catholic Church banned it as a pagan practice. Tonight though we celebrate the renewal of the sun’s return, as the next three days of the year contain the shortest amount of sunlight and the longest nights of the year.”

Diyar raised an eyebrow, locking his eyes on the host of the celebration. He had heard some stories about Marlowe being a wizard (an image of Diego flashed into Diyar's head for a moment, his thick spanish accent dripping with disgust as he shouted the word "Brujo!" and drew his swords) but he suddenly felt like that word didn't even really describe it well enough. There was something...else...

Be wary, Shon...do not let down your guard...

Diyar shook his head suddenly, then raised his glass, noticing that the others had all already lifted theirs with Marlowe.

"Zum Wohl!”

Diyar repeated the toast, then tipped his glass. White grape juice. He smiled a bit, bringing his glass back down. He followed his classmates into the dining room, placing his flute on (and nearly causing the other four already on to fall off) the tray. He saw the enormous wooden table, like something from a castle, and couldn't help but whistle in amazement. He looked behind him and saw a similar look of wonder on April's face. He turned back to the table, shaking his head in awe and trying to read the name cards.

April Hymn...Hymno...wow...Diyar...Violet-oh, shoot! Diyar stopped mid-step and turned, his face flushing in embarrasment at missing his name. No one seemed to notice; they were all gaping at the great dining room and looking for their own places at the table.

April was already sitting in her chair, her eyes darting around and taking in all the sights, almost nervously. Diyar sat down next to her, then actually looked in front of him at the array of silverware that had been placed on the table. His eyes went wide, then he turned to the girl sitting next to him.

"We use the top fork first, right?"