Logs:Blessings of Bathory - Gala Event

From Fallcoast
Jump to: navigation, search

Blessings of Bathory - Gala Event

"Storm's Comin"

Dramatis Personae

Katherine, Ting, Amastacia, Jackson, Dove, Kaleina,Gain, Ambroise, Charley, Michael,Helen,Molly, Candle as ST

31 January, 2018

The premier for the 'Lost Jewels' exhibit at the local museum.

This is part of the Blessings of Bathory Plot.


World History Museum

SCENE-Red Carpet

The weather this evening is oddly pleasant considering the recent string of sudden Nor'Easters, freak snow storms and blustery winter winds. Though still in the mid-50's, the short walk along the red carpeting is short enough that none of the guests should feel the chill too much. Lights illuminate the ten-foot wide red carpeted walk that runs the length of the museum leading up to the front stairs. Large crowd-controlling barricades have been established to create a hazard-free zone for the celebrities, millionaires philanthropists, socialites and all manner of invited guests.

Walking up the red carpet is a woman with long brunette hair that tumbles in loose curls all the way down to the middle of her back. A silky gold and black ballroom gown enxases her form with a skirt that comes almost all the way to the floor, the color scheme splitting at the waist and halfway along the skirt in a diagonal pattern along the gentle poofs of fabric. Her face is partially obscured by a delicate looking mask of golden metal that mostly frames her eyes, tied to her head by a thin white ribbon. Walking beside her is Charley, though they are not arm in arm, but merely walking beside each other.

"Ah here we go, out first guest of the evening, I don't recognize them right off the bat, miss miss! Excuse me, would you be willing to share with us who you are, and weither or not you've ever visited the mueseum?"

Bright hazel eyes come out of the golden mask as Amastacia offers the man behind the microphone a brilliant smile, "Ah why yes, I'm Emilia VandeBurg, a renowned psychologist from Washington, I mainly deal with folks that believe they have ghosts haunting them or other such things." A pause then, "Well, I've never visited before but I have donated quite a bit since coming to Fallcoast in the first couple weeks of December, I was actually quite surprised to see the invitation in my mail!" She gives another smile, waiting to see if the gook with the microphone asks any questions of her guest to the evening's event.

This is not what Ting anticipated. Not in her wildest imaginings did she dream of a venue so large, a crowd so voluminous, and cameras flashing everywhere. It's chilly out, so clinging to her companion, Molly, is nothing out of the ordinary. They look like a cute couple among a sea of attractive couples. For her part, the faerie is hiding a lot, using Molly's taller frame as a shield. She keeps her head bowed, tucks behind her date, and shies away from the lights. The lights are /everywhere/ so this is not so easily done, but she is trying. Shyness on a red carpet happens. There is not one time when a photo op happens without Ting slinking away in some fashion. If her photo is taken, it's not done with model cooperation. When the local commentators attempt to ask her who she is wearing, what her name is, she says nothing and defers to Molly. Worst interviewee ever.

Coming up the carpet, a woman of a mix of heritages, often hard to lock down, walks along with a smaller whisp of a woman. As she glances about, the taller of the pair walks up towards the microphone as well. Her dress is of a brown and black striped fabric with embroidered lace. Off the shoulders, the top loops around an inner corsett, flowing down her body in an A line dress. The fabric along the skirt is large swirls of golds browns and blacks ending in a soft satin hem at the bottom above her ankles. Chunkly buckled healed boots are worn, a mix between stylish and 'arrrg ye matey'. A belt cinches about her waist with a stylized buckle of a tallship. A broach pin over her heart is a Jolly Rogers of Calico Jack himself, the skull and crossbones, in silver of course.

With a soft smile, her eyes still intense she leans in "Molly Riggins, of Riggins Riggings, authentic Tall Ship tours and excursions, right here in Fallcoast. Thank you." She taps Ting lightly on the shoulder and nods. "I hope this will be exciting, yet calm. In fact, I would honestly be pleased with boring. I could use some borring, Sunshine."

Jackson walks down the red carpet, Dove at his side. Arm through his, clearly his guest. The man looks more like a famous rocker or security than he necessarily does anyone famous. Despite the very, nice, very tailored tux to fit him, he has tattoos that climb up his neck from below. His hands are in his pocket and he looks very serious, intimidating really. Someone most people would not like to ask questions. Almost as if he is unapproachable.

One of the interviewers dares, asking him the same question as the rest. Simple responses come from him, a face masked and serious. No smiles. "Jackson Reynolds." He declines to comment who he works for. Though if anyone were to do some research, they seem to be able to trace that name to some rather large conglomerate. And then he is moving on.

Now this is the world that she was meant for, which means that even with all of the cameras on her, Dove is in heaven. The woman strides down the red carpet with a slender arm draped through Jackson's, her footsteps careful, heels gentle so as not to damage her gown. The black silk is wrapped tightly to her curves until about the mid-thigh where it fans out and down. It's backless, with a golden snake curving down the spine. Her pink hair is up, with a couple os stray curls allowed to dance around her chin and delicate neck. She is the opposite of Jackson, with an easy smile and warm eyes.

"Dove Chambers, but my fans know me better as Diva D." She tosses a wink towards the camera. "Hardly my first time at a museum, darling. But it is my first time seeing such exquisite pieces. I'm very excited." She'll chat up the reporter for as much time as she's able before Jackson has to nudge her along, further down the carpet.

Michael arrives on the red carpet, and is the sort of fellow that's hard to miss. Standing nearly seven feet tall, he's a giant of a man, and arrives with Helen, a smile and a quiet word offered to her as they begin onto the carpet. They loop their arms with each other, beginning to make their way down the carpet. Dressed in an Armani suit of navy so dark it borders on black, his hair is mostly pulled back into a ponytail to keep it out of the way, a few strands loose. He looks to be in no hurry, as though this is not his first time going down the red carpet line at such an event.

One of the reporters calls out, "Michael! Michael Othniel!" sounding a bit shocked. It's a gratifying moment, after all, he's not very famous. The couple stop and the reporter, who looks to be fairly veteran, asks, "Michael, when did you get back to Fallcoast?! Does this mean you're giving up Hollywood?!" There's a rumbling laugh from the man, "Not at all Becky..but more and more these days, Hollywood isn't found in Hollywood. I'm back in Fallcoast for a new investment venture, to bring a proper studio and production company to my home town.. But for tonight, we're not here on business," he assures, "tonight's all about supporting one of the great institutions of Fallcoast and one of the finest museums in the northeast. I can't tell you how excited I am to see such an important exhibit making an historical stop here in my home town, I'm just glad I made it back in time to attend." There's a short bit of banter back and forth, and he pauses as no doubt his companion gets grilled as well, before the pair will move on.

Helen arrives in a look that puts most fashion models to shame. She's dressed in no less than a Simone Rocha dress that was tastefully sensual in it's black lace presentation, the cut was like something from a runway show and conformed to her body with perfection. Her shoes looked like Balenciaga slash pumps but might have been Vivian Westwood and the picture perfect young woman was wearing tens of thousands of dollars worth of jewelry on her slim wrists, ankles, neck and fingers. Of course, she's accompanying someone who can match her style and inhuman striking looks -- Michael Othniel. Much smaller than he is, she settles for sticking close to his side and trying her best to be the epitome of arm candy.

When being approached by the media she's all charming smiles and sultry looks, batting her lashes and winking to punctuate her salacious wit. "I'm Helen Troy and I'm totally not just here to be this guys plus one." A well practiced laugh,"The exhibit is pretty amazing, it represents the movement for cultural preservation and everyone organizing this event just outdid themselves." In between questions she tries not to be too flirtatious when the camera pans away when it comes back, the reporter asks her a question almost too quiet to hear. Her reponse was very audible, hard to miss in fact, "Yes. This is my first time to this museum but it won't be my last I hope." The last question is answered with a devil may care attitude,"Supporting the arts is like supporting creativity and inspiration, so of course I do. In my own way. Tonight I'm hoping to help Michael pick a proper charity to share his good fortunes with."

Kaleina arrives like others, walking down the carpet in fanciful garments. For her, it is a beautiful and ornate black dress, a luxurious hairstyle that likely took hours to do, even for a professional, and several of her more common items: an eyepatch and walking cane, though it seems she did not really need the latter, judging by the way she moved. She walks like she owns the world - which, for anyone who knew her or of her, could agree that she did. She is introduced as "Lady Kaleina Mhairi, CEO of Blackstone Companies." Who, when asked about whether or not she is a supporter of the arts, replies curtly with a simple: "Yes." Then after a short pause, continues. "I have supported many endeavors for the arts, I will continue to do so in the future. Perhaps, even this fine establishment will receive a donation for their gracious invitation." Granted, everyone knew why someone like her was invited. She had more money than she could possibly know what to do with. So, she continues on towards security.

Ambroise proceeds down the carpet when it is finally his turn. Social and polite as ever he does not seem overly put out by the dog and pony show he and everyone else is subjected to. He does not, however, particularly primp and preen for the cameras. He is here for reasons of social responsibility and while he is unfailingly polite and gregarious he has no particular need to engage in any sort of games of social one-upsmanship.

Tonight he has eschewed the more pedestrian tweeds he habitually wears about campus, opting instead for something more formal. A black tuxedo jacket with peak lapels is worn over a v neck double breasted painterly patterned waistcoat and white tuxedo shirt. A hand knotted bowtie of the same pattern as the vest it sits tied about his throat. Black tuxedo trousers with sharp creases clad his legs and a pair of black Oxfords, their leather buffed to a mirrored shine, complete the suit. An Omega Seamaster, its hands slowly revolving about dark face, is affixed to his left wrist with a heavy gold band while a bracelet of woven black paracord with a chrome anchor shackle adorns his right and gives a slightly urban aesthetic to his style.

He laughs politely when asked by one of the media if this is his first time coming to this museum, a somewhat ridiculous question after being identified by the exact same person as a Professor of History at St. John's University but rather than making an for of joke at the young lady's expense he simple smiles and says, "I come here quite often. I am always interested to see what their latest display is. While history may already be written our perceptions of it are ever changing."

SCENE - Security

As the invited guests make their way past the red carpet they step into the museum but are halted as they advance upon the 'gate' of security that Sentinel has constructed. A tastefully naked metal arch is constructed that everyone must walk through to ensure that they're not a threat to the exhibit or the museum's patrons. All cellphones, clutches and such are scanned through a quick security pass and handed back. This is also where the museum has provided a coat-check service for those who need such things taken from them.

Amastacia offers Charley a warm smile and nods a bit, heading past the media frenzy and into security proper. She is forced to remove the mask and hand it to a guard, and produces a slim card holder from the side of a breast within the top of her dress. She presents this as well, containing a folded invitation, and her credentials and identification. Besides those two objects, Amastacia carries nothing else on her person, and the metal detector fails to go off as she walks through it. She waits for Charley to go through the same proceedure, retying her mask to her face and tucking the card holder back into place within the silky ball gown.

Even though she has nothing to hide, the young woman is slightly nervous anyways as she's scanned over. There's nothing in her non-fashionable bag that would raise alert to anyone or anything, at least not in the security sense. "I always get nervous while walking through those things," she tells Ama as she passes through the detector, rejoining the woman at her side.

Approaching security, Molly watches them with a narrowing of the eyes. These are the same ones who managed to protect their frozen ship. Not exactly trustworthy in the Captain's eyes. Pulling from her purse, she shows her invitation for her and the quiet Ting. "Molly Riggins, as I told the people down there. Thats me, um..here is my Id, my badge. That is enough, yes?" As she is looked over by the security, most pictures they compare her to, do not have her in the dress, but clearly the right woman.

Stepping forward and is scanned, the metal detector goes off loudly, multiple times. Broach, belt pin, a ring, buckles, the chain garter around her thigh. That one catches some eyes of the guards as she lifts up her skirt to prove it is decorative, creepy but decorative. Still they ask to leave it at coat check. Putting a boot up on a wall, she latches it and lays it on the guards chest. "Have it ready when I we are ready to go." Once she is through, she makes sure Ting is with her before continuing. Whispering to the Lost at her side. "Looks impressive, but doubt it will be enough. Stay sharp."

The security portion of the evening is easy for Ting. She has no handbag, and therefore no weapon stowed away. A polite pass through the metal detector will reveal nothing on her person. Her escort to the Museum Gala is Molly Riggins, and that brings with it the Money, Status, and Contacts portion of the 'Are you cool enough?' criteria required to gain entry. Molly might be a stupidly wealthy pirate with Underworld connections, eh? The invitation they are riding in on is on the up and up, so Ting is in the clear as a +1. If she is asked any questions she offers up a deer-in-the-headlights stare which could easily be written off as her not speaking passable English. Then she looks to Molly to answer for her. By all accounts, she looks like she doesn't wish to be seen at this glorious event meant for people to be seen by the entire world.

The approach to security draws a wry smile from Michael as he eyes the metal detector. The very small doorway style metal detector, "I hate these things," he mutters to Helen, looking rueful. He presents the invitation, confirming Helen as his +1 and hands over phone and wallet for scanning, before he steps up to go through the security gate. It requires him to duck uncomfortably as he moves through, straightening up on the other side and retrieving his items. They're pocketed once more and he waits for Helen, offering her an arm again with a smile. A whispered word and he leans in to kiss her lightly on the temple.

As they pass through security Helen visibly pouts if they approach and try to "handle" her too eagerly. Otherwise she seems wholly unbothered when setting down her clutch, cell phone, and jewelry that might interact with the fancy tech scanner. Michael's comment earns him a soft tutting,"You're so averse but I promise its painless." While passing through she makes sure to keep a close eye on the people who are wearing the Sentinel Security uniforms. Anyone close enough to hear her, most definitely can't help but overhear her lewd comments about what might be in her clutch. She's clearly easy going and cooperates with the folks doing their jobs, a few of the questions elicit an upturned brow but Helen always seems to have an answer that hopefully satisfies. Whatever Michael says, and the kiss, causes her to flush with heat as she claims her belongings on the other side of the security checkpoint. Helen reclaims her spot by his side, looping her arm through his again and quietly conversing with him.

Kaleina does carry a bag, and her jewelry is rather minimalist, easy enough to pass security with that. Her cane raises a few eyebrows as it has some chalk inside of it, but its chalk only. So, she gets past security without further issue, but she does manage to catch a glimpse of some rather scandalous woman removing a garter. Very nice. She does pause for that. She is there to appreciate art and she intends to do just that! A lady needs her interests, after all. Kaleina then continues on after the show is over.

Ambroise reaches into his tuxedo jacket to remove his invitation before passing it over to security along with his ID. The invitation is oddly marked which causes a moment of pause since he is here both as a possible benefactor as well as an invited guest of the event (due to his connections to the University as well as his historical documentary television program), the separate markings necessary for various administrative functions. He smiles amicably when asked about his plus one and informs the officer, "Regretfully she had an emergency at the last moment that called her away." He offers no explanation as to why he did not attempt to secure a 'backup date' after this occurred, possibly because he didn't attempt to secure such a thing, feeling it would have been rude to treat someone like a fashion accessory.

He places his phone and a single key into the small tray that is provided before stepping through the arched metal detector. Other than a small flickering of the lights from the metal in his watch and the anchor shackle of his bracelet there is no reaction, allowing him to pass through and retrieve his possessions

SCENE - Reception

The reception area is the center of the museum with tables full of small snacks and small benches for people to sit down should they need to. Snacks are opposite the security entrance. Seats are to the left, the display is on the right. Additional security have blocked off the entrance to the exhibit so that there's a clear entrance and a clear exit with uniformed guards stationed at both. You are encouraged to walk around and mingle with folks and a museum guide will escort small groups through so that the guests can experience the items more privately.

The reception area is the center of the museum with tables full of small snacks and small benches for people to sit down should they need to. Snacks are opposite the security entrance. Seats are to the left, the display is on the right. Additional security have blocked off the entrance to the exhibit so that there's a clear entrance and a clear exit with uniformed guards stationed at both. You are encouraged to walk around and mingle with folks and a museum guide will escort small groups through so that the guests can experience the items more privately.

Now cleared through security and ushered into the main reception area of the evening, Amastacia smiles again at Charley, "So what was it that you saw happening?" At that point a waiter offers them champagne, free booze? Yes please, and she nabs a flute of it, taking a large swig, then draining it, placing it back on the tray and grabbing one more for herself, "Thank you." She smirks a bit at the waiter, but then turns her attention half-way back to Charley, gently leading her around the reception hall while keeping an eye on those filtering through security behind them. She manages to nab a few little hors'de'oveaours and munch on those as well as she listens to her companion. Spotting Molly and Ting, and being intriguied upon their arrival, her pattern of movement begins to gravitate towards them.

Stepping into the reception area, Molly keeps Ting close to her side. A hand on her shoulder, almost protectively, she nods towards some of the refreshments then thinks about it a moment. "Lets stay dry on this one, as much as I could use something. We can drink when we get back. " Turning about, the pair will slowly make their way over towards Amastacia and Charley, recognizing her. She will offer a quick wave and smile towards her as they approach. Passing a champaigne tray, Molly 'spills a little' in a planter to make it look partially imbibed, but not touched to her lips. All about the appearances baby. "Luci is it? Wonderful to see you in a much warmer setting. I must admit, I prefer the Carribean weather."

Katherine is one of the plain clothed officers attending tonight, working with security. While her expensive attire allows her to somewhat blend in, the subtle bulge on one side marks her as someone carrying a firearm. The expensive dress suit, clearly cut for the woman's figure, neatly nestles against her curves. Her shoes have a moderate heel, giving her already tall form a few more inches. Standing entirely too still for one of the beautiful people, she nods now and then to those who move through security. Distantly she listens for the sound of the metal detector, knowing likely the chime is some trinket someone forgot to remove from their person. If she's nervous, or upset, it doesn't show in her eyes. As the patrons move on, she trails in the back, speaking to one of the outside security as she passes him. "How hard is it to find a tailored outfit with less than a days' notice anyway. No James Bond entrances for me." Gain mutters under their breath, sarcasm obvious in the tone. They are down the street some ways from the Museum, their body currently having more in common with mist than anything corporeal, hidden maybe half a football field away in an alley. They stand there for a few moments as the first of the cars start arriving, letting the commotion build a bit. If their face wasn't a mass of shadow, a look of jealousy would be visible as they watch the 'Beautiful people' arriving, which leaves them watching longer than planned. Then theres a soft rustling and then they are gone, and now find themselves surrounded by the metal walls of the museum vent system. Looking around the immediately move to a better location, watching and waiting for a response from whoever on the security team was tracking them last time. Peering through a small vent, they now watch the Gala from above.


A woman in her senior years, dressed in shades of purple and gold, is standing in a corner of the room chatting up some people. She's a veritable riot of color and character with her white hair showing tints of violet and pink here and there that might mark her as a member of the local artists community. She's seen to occasionally point from this person to that as though she were judging dresses and who's in attendance and who's not. She seems a friendly, if highly eccentric sort who probably carries a hip flask.

Running her slender hands down the sides of her dress, Charley smooths out the skirt in a somewhat nervous fashion. She takes a small breath to try and calm herself before looking over to Amastacia. She takes a quick glance around, searching for anything familiar from her vision. While doing so, she speaks quietly to the other woman. "I saw someone smashing some masks. Like, really pretty and jewelry covered ones," she starts to explain, looking back to Ama. "Then I saw a white haired woman in all white and whatnot yelling about a storm. I dunno. Apparently all that happens here and it all seemed... really bad." There's a small frown on her lips as she follows along with the group and Ama!

There’s a clang as a waiter accidentally drops an empty serving tray and it seems perfectly on cue to draw people’s attention to the latest arrival. A young woman in her mid-twenties with russet-colored hair mildly slinks her way through the crowd in her long, black dress. The mixture of red and brown hair accentuates her rather pale complexion making her a most striking figure of womanhood. Her steps are light and her path seemingly random as she walks a quiet, methodical trail through the various clusters of people. She’s not interested in seeing any one person or group, rather she’s more interested in /being/ seen by all.

Once through security and with his belongings back in his possession Ambroise moves to mingle with the rest of the crowd in an entirely relaxed and natural manner. More than a few of the possible benefactors are people he has known for years, his family living in nearby Lewiston-Auburn, and this particular type of social scene is one which he was practically raised in. Although he is attending as a possible benefactor he is also here as an invited guest and so, when appropriate, subtly steers the conversation into facts concerning the objects being exhibited as well as the importance of historical conservation.

Wendell walks around, wrinkling his nose. He's wearing a shirt and tie and seems mostly unarmed for the time being. He seems to just be there to support the rest of the security and maybe to spot things people miss. Everything seems clear and the security seems to be tight so the Wendell seems to be happy. Once people go through without anything happening he sighs in relief and he's free to go around with a carefree grin.

The drift into the reception hall draws a wryly amused smile from Michael, as he looks towards the table. "The problem with receptions, they never have real food," he says with a wink to the smaller woman. He does snag a glass of champagne, though from the looks of things doesn't seem overly enticed towards drinking it. Helen laughs quietly on his arm, and the two of them begin to move around the reception in an unhurried fashion.

Jackson looks down at Dove after they pass through security, and into the reception rea. The first hint that he might not be quite as serious as he seems. A small little grin goes her way. "Don't get your hopes up." He pulls at the neckline, stage-whispering to her. "These things are so tight. I can't breathe." A joke maybe, since the grin grows a bit, and then he is straight faced once more. Serious, and he walks along with Dove away from the food and drink. He moves to the right towards the displays, maybe just to get a look at them, declining refreshments. Maybe he's afraid of being poisoned.


A snicker from one of the guests can be heard as a middle-aged woman emerges from the security gate and stares across the reception hall at the senior woman in gold and purple. The new arrival is conservatively dressed in something that some people would consider more appropriate for church rather than a festive gala like this. Her elbow-length gloves match the seaweed green of her dress with the only adornment visible as that of a small, golden cross. She’s all smiles and charm but anyone with half a clue of human behavior can tell that she’s silently judging nearly everyone in attendance for their display of avarice and ungodly ways.

Under the guise of awed admiration, Dove's eyes sweep the room, taking in each and every detail and storing it away for later. "Oh, my hopes are already up. Besides, you know I get what I want." Lashes flutter up at Jackson. "Do you see anyone you recognize?" she wonders of her date as she gestures towards a woman that entered not too long before them, Amastacia. "I met that young lady on New Year's Eve. Might not be a terrible idea to go and say hello?" she suggests, giving the man's arm a little tug in that direction. Keen eyes spot the older, eccentric woman with all of her bright colors, a smile touching Dove's lips. She gestures over the 'older' woman, mouthing that she loves her outfit. Back to Jackson, the rather short female has to lift up to her toes in order to whisper to him.

Gain silently observes from the vents, eyes widening as they notice that the dead are in attendance, and in expensive dresses no less. Afraid even to mutter to themselves least they set off some for of security or another they shift about following the movements of the groups. Quickly growing bored of watching others socialize and drink bubbly, they turn their attention towards the exhibits, looking for a group about to head towards them and preparing to shadow them.. Literally, from the ceiling vents.

The evening is so far, running smooth. Walking slowly around the permeter, Katherine presses smoothing palm the front of her dress jacket, giving the hem and sleeve a light tug. A solitary nod, she is not impolite but it seems quite obvious she's not here to wine and dine. Hair swept up, a few loose wisps frame her face and soften her profile. The elbow length gloves catch Katherine's attention and she turns to watch the judgemental woman with a bit of amusement. Slow, casual steps bring her around where she can view the woman with the small, golden cross, likely curious to whom she is going to bring down her possible holy wrath on.

The whisper from Dove gets his attention and he nods rather solemnly down to her, though he doesn't whisper back. "I did." His attention falls on the older woman, curiously, but it's more of a cursory thing, it doesn't last long. Then he nods to Dove's other question, pointing out Ting and Molly specifically. Or so it looks, maybe he's just commenting about them, he does lean down then and whisper something to her.

Amastacia frowns slightly at Charley and shakes her head, "I don't know, hopefully nothing like that actually does happen." She offers Molly and Ting a smile, "Hey there, haha, I see what you did there. Charley, Molly and.. I think your name is Ting isn't it? Kinda disappeared real fast there. She takes another sip of champagne then she is asked to come view the jewles so she does.

Emilia VandeBurg spends a moment with her eyes closed, and without disturbing the gentle Weave of the room by cloaking her spell, she opens both the Sights of Fate and Prime magicka and then meanders along the exhibits, though she stops at the big red ruby of a necklace, canting her bemasked head to the side as she stares into the display case and lets her visions wash over the stone's surface and absorb the latent magical resonance, but then she gets a gentle tap on the shoulder, a reminder to move on and she flashes a smile, "Right sorry, it's just so pretty." Another sip of her champagne and she's back into the reception hall!

As Kaleina gets settled into the reception, she spots a familiar face - one that she definitely did not anticipate. She makes her way over towards Ting, which also puts her into close proximity with garter-lady, Molly, and the mask-wearing lady, Amastacia. She does not immediately say anything, but does keep her eye focused on Ting, examining her. The bracelet seemed to be missing. Which meant someone got it off. That made Kaleina curious.


There’s a clang as a waiter accidentally drops an empty serving tray and it seems perfectly on cue to draw people’s attention to the latest arrival. A young woman in her mid-twenties with russet-colored hair mildly slinks her way through the crowd in her long, black dress. The mixture of red and brown hair accentuates her rather pale complexion making her a most striking figure of womanhood. Her steps are light and her path seemingly random as she walks a quiet, methodical trail through the various clusters of people. She’s not interested in seeing any one person or group, rather she’s more interested in /being/ seen by all.

Following after Helen from above, Gain took time to examine the objects of art they were passing. Smokey shadows roiling through the vents silently, pausing here and there to appreciate this or that from afar. But its when they arrive at the Bathory necklace that Gain dares move to a lower vent, eyes and senses glued on the huge ruby. If intent were a weapon, the ruby would have leapt out of the case and into the vent. Instead they are left frustrated, wispy, and alone in the vent.

In Katherine's left hand, there is a twitch as the waiter drops the empty tray and it clatters onto the floor. There is a touch of irritation on her face as she turns, giving the waitor a narrowed gaze of irritation. The frown doesn't last long however, because her eyes are trailing after the newest arrival. If her purpose is to gather gazes, she succeeding because even briefly Katherine watches her methodical trail. Turning at last from the beautiful, pale woman, Katt resumes her slow, purposeful movements. Her path brings her around to briefly pass close enough to see the Bathory necklace and she can't help giving it a glance.

Jackson leads Dove through the display on their tour, seemingly staying with her as they are taken through. They come out the other side, and she is still on his arm. He seems in quiet talk with her, as if having just seen something interesting and speaking about it in hushed tones. That's when things happen, though. It's not even the clang of the waiter's tray that brings Jackson's eyes to the young woman who just walked in in the pale dress. He's already looking there. Only Dove can probably here it, but a low rumble emits form his throat. What sound did he just make? His eyes never leave her. She wanted attention, she just got it.

It was hard for Jackson to drag Dove away from the display of jewels, but eventually he manages to pull her out. She glances back a couple of times, brows knit. "It is exactly what I thought it might be," she tells him with a bit of swoon to her voice. There's a pause, Dove's feet faltering for a moment as she spots the red headed woman who enters. Well she wants to be seen and so she is. Her lips curl up at their sides for a moment, a growl echoing the noise Jackson made, before whatever that was is pushed back deep down. "I'm sure I'm not the only one who know it."

Ambroise emerges from the exhibit, looking somewhat contemplative. He only had a few moments to look at the displays so he is really not quite sure what he saw but deciding prudence is better than indecision he collects up a glass of champagne and makes his way over to Katherine.

Keeping his voice pitched low so as not to be overheard by people more than a few feet away Ambroise smiles pleasantly as though simply chatting with a friend while speaking sotto voce to the security consultant. "I just saw a strange artifact of light off of Queen Elizabeth's sapphire," he says. "I wasn't in the exhibit long enough to make a thorough search of the room but I do worry that perhaps someone is shining a beam onto the ring for some nefarious purpose."

After they've had their fill of the exhibit Helen is on Michael's arm as they walk back to the main hall. She's quietly conversing with him in a respectful fashion so as to not draw too much attention in /that/ moment. When they reach the first group of people socializing the petite brunette bombshell drags her massive date with her. They easily interject themselves in the conversation, as she's adept at this sort of thing. Throughout the carousing there was hunger or perhaps longing in her gaze as they flit about, never still for too long. The running theme in the conversation she made around the room is the same, Queen Elizabeth's ring was the most fascinating and beautiful piece in her humble opinion.

Kaleina gets her chance at the exhibits, and when she gets back she seems contemplative. There was definitely something in there that caught her eye. What it was is anyone's guess, but she had spent a fair bit of time at the Bathory jewel exhibit. However, once back, she seems to stay off to the side by herself, doing some very heavy thinking. Michael heads into the exhibit with Helen, when they are corralled that direction by the ushers. It's good that someone is around to keep the pair on task. As they emerge from the exhibit, Michael's expression is one of curious interest, as he leans close and says something quietly to Helen. Then they are back to working the crowd again, though Michael's attention shifts slightly at hearing someone talking to one of the security guards.

Whatever discussion they were having about the jewels is all but lost on Jackson. He nods to Dove, something she whispers to him, but his eyes continue to follow the newly arrived pale woman. And Dove is being pulled along with him as he starts to follow in her footsteps as she goes about the room. He's only a few feet back, as if tailing her, but doing so in plain view. Maybe he's just mesmerized by her. She does seem to have his attention, just as she wishes. She's made a firm mark. A glance goes Dove's way, meaningfully and then back.

Realizing the guards may be on to them, Gain rushes to follow the patrons back to the main Gala hall as fast as their shadowy little form can move. They again move toward the higher vents, they focus on a figure in the back of the room, examining them. They move to several vents, working to see who they are with and what they are doing.

Ambroise moves up to Katherine, and she kindly tilts her head as they speak politely. Moving to the side slightly as people pass her and continue eyeing the expensive gems, she nods her head. "Thank you." The words are no sooner from her lips to Ambroise than something else draws her attention. "Please, excuse me." With that, Katherine's eyes don't linger long on the jewlery or the crowd, because something makes her staraighten and look to the security guards. A faint furrowing of her brow, she moves with a quickened, but not panic driven step in their direction. As she moves, her hand moves to unbutton the single button on her suit coat.


A plain-clothed security agents from Sentinel walk over to one of the patrons with a pair of uniformed officers backing him up. They politely ask the person to follow them out of the reception hall to have a conversation with them. The target, a twenty-something young man with cropped, blonde hair and with a slender build, nods and tries to play off the whole thing as a ‘simple misunderstanding’. He smiles to those around and asks one of the passing waiters to take his glass. The small group turns and the three members of Sentinel drive the target towards out of the room.

In an attempt to create a distraction, the young man trips one of the waiters and sends the trays of champagne flutes to the ground in a crash as he bolts for the door. The plain-clothed agent withdraws a taser pistol from his side and fires into the back of the running man. The two uniformed officers quickly fan out to push people back and control the scene.

Stunned and unable to stand for a moment. The tux-clad Sentinel pulls a pair of black strips from one of the uniformed officers and cuffs the targets wrists and ankles while one of the uniformed officers slaps an adhesive bite-gag over his mouth. Once he’s been secured, the uniformed officers can carry him off and the caters quickly arrive to clean up the mess. No explanation, no apologies. Just...efficiency. That’s Sentinel.

Hazel eyes slide towards Ambroise, pulling at Dove's attention for a mere second before she's glancing back towards Jackson. Her head tilts, shaking something off before she catches the pointed look the man gives her. "Oh for Goddess' sake," she mutters without any attempt at stealth, the click of her heels becoming more rapidly as she comes up alongside the pale woman with the reddish/brown hair. "Bridgit! Bridgit darling how are you?" She asks this as she steps in front of the woman, whirling on her like a woman just so pleased to see a friend. Definitely not Bridgit, of course. "Oh goodness me." She laughs, the sound soft and hypnotic. "I'm so sorry, I thought you were someone else!"

Amastacia watches, tilts her head, drains the rest of the flute she has and replaces it with a fresh one with the waiter standing in shocked silence beside her. "Well then, things got interesting." She raises her voice a little, "If you need counciling dear I charge smaller rates for excons." Satisfied with her joke she resumes paying little attention to anyone around her but acting like she is listening while peering at the exhibits across the hall.

Ambroise watches the incident momentarily since such a thing would naturally draw one's attention. He quickly realizes, however, that in a situation like this looking at where one's attention is being drawn might not actually be the appropriate reaction. Instead he turns and appears to casually cast a glance back in the direction of the exhibits as he takes a sip of his champagne.

The psychic can't get a read on the Bathory jewel that she attempts to examine for a moment. Charley has her suspicions but doesn't have any proof that it's anything more than a pretty piece of jewelry! Wandering back out into the main area with Amastacia once more, she gives the woman a curious look. "I don't know what you're uh, capable of but did you get anything off of anything in there?" she wonders, of course speaking in a soft whisper as to not be easily overhead.

The commotion draws Michael's attention and he watches with detached interest, the efficient work of the Sentinel security team drawing a raised brow. Once the group is escorting the detained fellow out he makes an amused comment that is loud enough to carry, "And see folks, that's exactly why you always make sure to tip the valet." His attention though, fairly quickly, is back to Helen.

Curious at the sudden interruption Gain's gaze slips for just a moment from the man in the corner to the commmotion, then back quickly to see what the mans reaction would be. If a shadow could sweat, they would be about now, as they dare stay in generally one place for a while to watch the man. "What could he be doing here." They mutter so very quietly to themselves.

The man making a break for it and being tasered only causes Kaleina to narrow her eyes slightly. It seemed odd that someone would attempt something, but Kaleina does go on guard, it would not behoove her to be caught unawares. She does, however, turn her attention towards the other woman that had come in with the clattering tray.

Katherine is standing to the side of the scuffle as security rather quickly removes the problematic guest. Assuring a few of the more excitable guests, who are probably clutching their pearls at this moment, that everything is alright, she puts on that smile that says the world is watching. Her step now easy, she makes eye contact with the other security, seeming to speak without words. Part of her is tempted to reach out and down one of those flutes that pass by with bubbly, but for now she simply glasps her hands together at the small of her back and continues her surveillance.


A gasp is heard within the crowd and a middle-aged woman dressed in a gown of flowing white fabric with a high collar -and- a cape, she steps into the room like a queen. Her arrival is nearly awe-inspiring as many people simply step back to look at her gown, her elegance and her carriage. Definitely not a local figure, she glances around the crowd and seems to smile a faint greeting towards a few other notable figures but otherwise has nothing much to do with those gathered.

After the commotion with the apparent wannabe thief, the woman in white becomes the next scene stealer. Charley, like most others, looks in her direction. When she does, she pauses, her eyes widen. Amastacia is given a nudge to grab her attention. "That's her, that's the woman I saw in my vision. The one that yelled with this like, really scary voice about a storm coming," she tells Amastacia, along with anyone else that happened to be near them. Possibly Molly and Tiny? Amastacia looks to Charley for a moment, dazzling hazel orbs within the confines of the delicate golden mask, "Mmm, yes something quite interesting, m'dear, quite interesting indeed. But, this is my night off, I refuse to do anything other than make jibs and drink." She smirks a little at Charley and gives a wink before there is that spread of hushed serenity that overtakes a room when an imposing figure makes itself known and Amastacia looks to the entrance, an eye up and down, "Well now, isn't that just gaudy, look at that, it's so 1820's ballroom." She giggles lightly, another sip of champagne, "See? There's my wise crack and my drink."

Ambroise casually wanders back over in the direction of the exhibit, looking at the security guards as they act in a manner which seems to him to be more than a little bit odd. "Well, that was certainly surprising," he says to one of the guards in a casual tone.

There's a commotion nearby, of course, but all of Dove's attention is focused on the woman in front of her. "It's no matter," she offers with another laugh as the woman offers nothing in return but a stare. "I'm always delighted to make -new- friends." Is she in the way? Of course she's in the way. But whatever else she might have just been about to do is halted as the woman turns to stare at someone entering. Her eyes dart towars the woman in the cape and then to Jackson. 'Trouble,' she mouths before she darts out of the way to move closer towards the man.

Action abound. Surprisingly the kerfuffle with the man and security gets barely much of a glance. Jackson's still trailing the first lady, the pale one, the one Dove has suddenly decided to approach and talk to. He can't help but smirk just a little. It's hard to keep his straight face at that show. But he stills it, just in time to hear the gasp, his eyes finally moving from the pale woman to the one in white dress, giving her a once over.

Jackson bends down when Dove is near again, whispering.

"Huh?" Gain mutters to themselves, watching their target wander out the front door moments before the woman in the capes entrance. The shadow hesitates, starting to follow after the man then noticing the new arrival in the gaudy dress. They quickly move to the other side of the hall, getting a better vantage point on her.

The new arrival garners Katherine's attention, but only in a very professional way. Her eyes move over her in a way that says Katherine is looking for weapons in all that couture. Even after that second in time where she thinks that the woman in white is perhaps harmless, her gaze lingers, narrows. Finally, she blinks and looks away, frowning slightly at her own lingering gaze. Her hand reaches to tuck away an escaping bit hair, curling it behind her ear and adjusting the earpiece in her ear.

The commotion elicits a pout from Helen, then a smirk and then a displeased look once again. She sighs and grabs Michael's hand and for all intents and purposes draws him toward the nearest bearer of champagne. However, along the way the plan seems to change. She kind of freezes at the sight of the woman in white, looks extremely uncomfortable and turns to Michael before beginning to meander towards the nearest exit.

SCENE-Show Down

A few minutes after her arrival, the woman in white glances around the room with a look of contempt and disdain. The older woman, Liz, starts to make her excuses to start the process of leaving. Kat, the middle-aged woman crosses herself and also seems needing to leave rather in a hurry but Esbet just stares at the woman in white like there's gonna be a showdown.

Molly watchest the take down with a raise of an eyebrow and a sly smile. She can't help it but she tries. Moving closer to Amastacia and her guest, she passes her gaze over the woman. "Well someone is definatly hot to trot. I'd give someone's right arm for her tailor, eh?" She keeps a hand on Ting's shoulder, occationally looking down at her with a little concern but gives her a smile. "Just enjoy it, its cool." A glance back to Amastacia. "Who made your outfit?"

By Jackson's side, Dove is still close enough to Esbet that the woman can hear her even as she murmurs. Does the divaDaeva have a clue what's going on? Chances are no. But does she recognize drama in the making? Oh hell yeah, she lives for the stuff. "I can force her to show her hand," she sing songs towards Esbet. "Just saying." Antagonizing? Who would do such a thing?

As the newcomer arrives, Kaleina moves towards the side of the pale woman who made an entrance and scene for herself earlier. As she steps up beside 'Esbet', she glances to her. "Someone you know?" Ting has disconnected. Esbet, looking to Kaleina with a faint twitch of her eye, mutters out some words that one would have to be that close to pick up.

Michael glances towards the new arrival, but his attention remains still back towards Helen. He moves, shifting to interpose himself, his huge form between the woman in white and Helen, keeping that way as the pair begin to head towards whatever the queue to exit might involve.

Kaleina looks to Esbet again when she mutters. After a moment, she leans in and whispers back.

"My tailor in Scotland, I've had them for years." Amastacia replies to Molly, draining her third flute for the evening and placing it on a wandering waiter's tray, "But, I am afraid that other matters of the eve are calling to me and I must take my glorious butt elsewhere, keep me appraised eh? Scarecrow can find me." With that she gently pats Charley on the shoulder, "Take care lil one, don't get in trouble." And Amastacia makes her great escape, and by that, orderly leaving through normal mundane means after depositing an envelope with several thousand dollars in the donation box.

SCENE-Show Down

Museum staff and Sentinel security start to chatter about a snow storm that's recently blown in and that there's already a dusting of snow on the red carpet outside. They may have to end the event prematurely as this could be another one of the rogue Nor'Easters. As the news begins to spread, a faint, thin-lipped smile curls at the edge of Ingrid's (the woman in white) mouth. The power dims slightly and Sentinel urges all guests to make an orderly and calm path to the exit.

Charley watches the woman in white for a few long moments, her gaze distant as if focusing and concentrating on something. The psychic attempts to glean some sort of information from the woman's mind but can't break through whatever mental wall has been put up. There's a wince as her head suddenly begins to hurt, a light gasp and her hand reaches up to hold her temple momentarily. Finger rubbing to try and ease the pain away. Looking to Ama, she nods. "I'll try not to." Try being the key word of course.

Michael absconds with Helen, the true jewel of the museum display, out into the cold night beyond once they are through the checkpoint..

As the lights dim, Ingrid is not the only one smiling. Kaleina grins, too, and disappears into the crowd.

Katherine winces, it's not so much the voice in her ear, but what he whisper to her that makes her look a little tired. After all, this is extra money in her pocket come payday but dealing with debutantes was never her favorite gig. Moving to a few of the security figures that guard the entrance now, she mutters that the valet service should probably be notified. That done, she turns again to observe the gathering. Again, her eyes are drawn to the pair of woman that look as if they're going to draw at sundown. The women at the edges of gathering begin to whisper and a bit of apprehension crawls down Katherine's back, making her shoulders tense. Her eyes scan, watching those pass her only briefly.

Ambroise proceeds to exit with the other partigoers, keeping one eye on the mysterious woman in white though he does his best to keep her in the corner of his eye and not simply stare at her rudely.

Charley will allow herself to be ushered, she doesn't want to make a scene after all. But, she does so slowly. Her pace calm as she tries to extend her depature so that she can, hopefully, end up near the woman in white.

Never one to leave well enough alone, Gain hesitates to leave. Curious about the new arrival and her impact on the weather. But worried about the woman's powers, they move farther away, weary for any signs of someone looking directly in their direction as they do so.

There's a slight frown, a growl trembling from Dove again as Kaleina comes to stand nearby. Just one beast reacting to another. She murmurs towards the other women as well, fingers curling into her palm as she remains exactly where she is for the moment, for as long as she can keep herself there. Eventually she's forced to move, shifting and very very slow. Stalling? Probably

From the vents, Gain watches the mass exodus wearily, then glances up at the skylights. Then they drop back down to the guests, and the woman in white with apprehension.

Molly continues to move around, watching from a corner, eying the people around the room as she keep Ting tucked close. "Just tug on my arm when you are ready to go. Most of those I'd talk to have, oh...looks like they want us out."

Kaleina frowns as things start to go wrong, but swiftly finds her way towards the only person of interest, which is Ting. Coincidentally, Ting is with Molly. "Ladies." She states. "Might I escort you out?"