#toaball2023

[hosannan]

And softly, the violins swelled— though... was she allowed to indulge, given their circumstances? Beneath her tongue lay a taste of stardust and brine, as Nanna fought against her better judgement to enjoy herself for the evening. A blink and the weariness wore away, leaving a feathery touch and a dream she had always walked while her eyes were closed. Before her was a ballroom of sheer decadence, of which she herself had been rightfully edified to know her way around. She was taught to belong here—groomed to suit royalty—though she had never had the chance to belong.

Now, was a chance. However much she had to close her eyes to make it as such.

With a winning smile, she was off.

Accepting Stamps! Nanna's Element is: Lightning!

Air—

Earth—

Water—

Fire—

Lightning—

Getting Acquainted | Askbox

[boundlesschaos]

(( The doodlings i did as a break from my bigger work ended up being these...so I gently slide them over here yahoo ' o' ))

[lycianlynx]

[Sparkling water]: “Pah…” She winces at the taste of the water. She has never felt scorned by one of earth’s blessings until tonight. Or perhaps this isn’t a blessing at all. She raises the glass to look at its contents, then glances at the syrups available. Whatever it is, it is nothing natural.

Sue turns on her heel, ready to leave the station when she comes to face another recognized person from the army. 

“Chad,” she greets with a simple nod of acknowledgement. She sets her glass down with a soft clink. “If it is water you seek, I do not recommend what is here.”

Wandering feet lead Chad to the refreshments as they oft do, out of placce as they ever are on the polished floors. A glass at least occupies fidgeting hands for a little while, and while they're uninterested in the 'restricted' drinks, there were a few syrups they had spotted that should be worth investigating...

To their credit, they do not visibly startle when abruptly met with a familiar face on the way there, nor do they spend more than a split second making sure their scarf isn't crooked.

"Sue—!" they begin, miraculously not stuttering on the single syllable of her name. Composure is grabbed, then reined. They give a nod in return. when did you get here, is the first thing they mean to ask, you look great discarded the second it's thought. Brown eyes instead flit to the abandoned glass.

"Well — Yeah." They shrug in agreement, loosely flicking a thumb a few tables down. "Water's over there, if you're looking for it."

A slight pause. "The bubbly stuff's nasty on it's own, but I don't mind it mixed with the syrup... I like the berry flavor."

[justicefanged]

Conga Rats

While this was certainly not like any party Linus had been to before -- way too much silk and glitter, not nearly enough raunchy drinking songs -- it was pretty fun. The rodents scurrying around with drinks and food were sort of funny, once you got used to them. The music was a perfect mix of slower, close songs and faster, more vibrant ones so even if you didn't like or know how to work with one, you could get in on the next.

Now, Linus hadn't ever bothered to learn proper steps to anything like Lloyd had on the rare occasion they'd had to blend into some gaudy event to take care of a target, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to dance. He was just more familiar with the group dances one got up to in smaller villages at harvest festivals and the like. Or the grinding and passionate dances that blurred in his memory from too good nights.

Either way, there was a buzz under his skin, making him feel flushed and like he just...had to...do something!

The last song finished up, and the bug band responsible for the music shifted to something absurdly energetic and peppy. A couple of the chitinous creatures even got up as they settled into the new song, little claws tip-tapping away as they played on the move.

Well, fuck it, why not?

Not even really looking at the poor sap he was about to drag into this, Linus grabbed the -- guy? yeah, hey man, hope you're ready to dance right now -- by the hand and pulled him in behind the small entourage of cricket musicians. He didn't know the song at all, but it was a simple beat and with electricity pulsing in time in his veins, Linus just did what felt natural -- or unnatural? magic was fucked, so who knew -- and went along with the vibes!

@culinari (You're certainly free to ignore this, but if you like, simply pass it along to someone else on the master list and let the conga line grow!)

[theofficersacademy]

Fans flutter, jewels sparkle as they catch the light, and the air buzzes with students’ conversation, nervous and hopeful all at once. The Ethereal Ball has at last come to... not the monastery this year, that’s for sure. Garreg Mach’s guests from Morfis, welcome or not, have cast an ever greater spell over the area and now your friends in the Golden Deer house aren’t the only ones mouse-sized. You, too, are suddenly no taller than a thumb, but that horror is supplanted with a greater one when you’re swept up by the elements and dropped into a dazzling ballroom unlike any you have ever seen before, the ceiling open to the stars above and the vague faces of the five Morfisians who peer down at you. They intend to watch you for entertainment.

The “gift” they have given you is beautiful though: a massive room draped in garlands of white and pastel pink flowers that never wilt, the scent of perfume heavy in the air, with a polished floor sparkling as if made of starlight itself. Were it not for the mice with which you now stand eye-to-eye, it might have been easy to forget your new curse. The mice, you realize, have been blessed (or perhaps cursed as well) with human consciousness, and they scurry about with serving trays and towels.

While your clothes have shrunk with you, there is a little boutique a short way down one of the halls that branch off from the ballroom. For a kernel of corn, a pair of sparrows will grant you gowns and robes of ethereal silk, shimmering silver, flowers, and fairy dust. You may never have this experience again, so why not live it up and make this a night to remember? The Morfisian elementals want you to entertain them, after all.

You’ve been formally invited to the Ethereal Ball?

A once in a lifetime experience for students of the Officers Academy, this time an even more magical night full of excellent food and drink, endless dancing, and the highlight of the year for would-be couples and longtime lovers alike.

You might be tiny, but your hosts have spared nothing to treat you to a ball that would empty the coffers of even the wealthiest nobles in Fódlan.

What’s on My Hand?

Each attendee of the ball finds themselves with two things:

A long chain of vines that seems to contain some magical power, worn around the neck

A strange mark on the palm of the right hand, in one of 5 shapes. See this list to find which one your muse has. Note: all muses in TOA have been assigned a mark for ease of randomizing them, but this does not obligate a muse to participate. BOLD your muse’s name on the list if they are participating.

The five elementals - Earth, Water, Air, Fire, and Lightning - have claimed each of you for themselves and imbued you each with some of their power. When power is traded between two characters via a handshake or some other action that puts their marks in contact, a flower corresponding to the element will bloom on each character’s vine necklace.

How to Play

The goal is to gather one flower per each of the 5 elements represented at the ball, presumably after you’ve had a favorable conversation with the attendee and earned their approval and / or friendship (note: IC interactions do not actually have to be favorable to count toward the goal).

YES: A approaches B with the express intention of making a good impression and trading power with a handshake

NO: A and B decide to ditch the party and make out in the surrounding forest

YES: A and B decide to ditch the party and make out in a beautiful clearing in the woods, and decide they might as well hold hands to share their respective patron’s power while they’re at it

YES: A asks B for a handshake, but B hates A and a fight ensues.

NO: B starts a fight with A for the hell of it, and neither of them mention the marks or the flowers.

Please tag your posts with #toaball2023

A Note on Interactions

This year, do not reblog any of the inbox memes or prompts.

Bold your muse’s name on the elemental designations list to signal to the rest of the group that they are open to ball-related interactions. 

A bolded name means that you are welcome to send any of the memes or prompts without asking beforehand.

You may unbold your muse’s name at any time. This will not affect whether or not they can claim their prizes at the end.

Schedule

WEEK 1 : Getting acquainted (12th - 19th) 12th - New prompts 13th - Matchmaking signups 16th - Matched pairs will be announced

WEEK 2 : Preparing for the (new) White Heron Cup (19th - 26th) 19th - New prompts & White Heron cup signups

WEEK 3 : White Heron Cup & Event Wrap-up (26th - 31st) 26th - New prompts 26-29th - White Heron Cup competition 30th - White Heron Cup winners announced June 1st - Event epilogue

Prizes

Once your garland has bloomed with all 5 colors, you will be eligible to pick one prize from the Spring tab of our prize list!

You will also be eligible for exclusive access to the Dancer class! It will be treated as a Unique class with its own mastery ability. Mastering the class will also grant the character Refresh.

All characters who reach the required colored flowers will receive the prizes.

Prizes can only be claimed after the event’s conclusion.

Please track your flowers somewhere, with the name of the other character and a link to the interaction. Whether you do it on your blog or somewhere private is up to you, but you will be submitting this to claim the prize at the conclusion of the event

And that’s it! If you have any questions or concerns, please let the mods know!

The Ethereal Ball? will run until May 31st at 11:59PM EST! And in addition to the interactions and the White Heron Cup, we will be staggering three different lists of prompts designed specifically for this setting throughout the event. We hope you have fun, and that your characters make a lot of new friends!

- The House Leaders

[ladyleonster]

continued with @peerlessscowl

"I never liked them growing up. They got better after I was married but he's gone and..." She sighs and downs the rest of her glass. As hard as she tries to move on, Quan's memory always lingers in her mind and Sigurd's appearance in Fodlan has not made it any easier. Moments like this, when she finds herself in the middle of something they might have enjoyed together, are when she finds herself missing him the most.

A mouse turned waiter approaches, bottle of champagne in hand, ready to refill her glass and Ethlyn has an idea. She swipes the whole bottle and hands the poor thing her glass before tugging one of Raven's arms away from his chest and grabbing him by the hand. "Come on. I can't let you stand here all night scowling and ruining the mood for everyone who actually is enjoying themselves. We can find somewhere quieter and pout together."

And she drags him off toward the fairy circle.

[rafent]

"There you are!" Spying the head of fine white hair, Griss calls over three other students milling around the refreshments, then pushes past them, eliciting a couple of startled grunts but little else. One glimpse of the metal that studs his rough-hewn jacket is enough to discourage them from making an issue out his etiquette, and Griss hardly notices them anyway, eyes fixed instead on the fell dragon that had accepted his loyalty in a world absent of both of his gods.

"You're harder to find than I thought in a place like this. Almost had me think you'd escaped the spell." He glances toward the table and its rows of decadent cakes, pies, and other pastries, and makes a face. He'd had enough hapless stumbling across sweets tonight to last him a lifetime. Rafal's plate tells another story though and Griss raises a brow as two pieces suddenly click together. If he'd been hovering around this table the whole time, then of course Griss wouldn't have seen him right away.

"Can't imagine the kid with enough guts to make a fell dragon serve their sweet tooth like this. Unless--" He makes eye contact with Rafal and the truth drops over him like a cold bucket of water. You have a sweet tooth.

[ // was actually going to be a prompt from the list but wound up being setup instead hahaha ]

He'd come to know the sound of that voice even with the few meetings that spanned their acquaintance in number. The Hound's approach was noted with a nod as he drew near, with a name made interchangeable with greeting, acknowledgement, and even some growing degree of welcome.

"Griss."

The other man's belated arrival meant that the passion of Rafal's foraging from moments prior was little suggested by his presently cool tone. A lightning fast scamper, knocking into elbows and fellow patrons in his timely gamble to seize the most choice desserts. Though, the two made for a humorous contrast to those aware of his. . .preferences. A porcelain plate packed with explosions of sweetness from rim to rim, center to edge, told that story quite handily, but to Rafal it was no guilty secret which words evaded.

Red meeting with red, he finished for the thought with a prideful smile. "You may state the obvious, or I shall do it plainly for you; I am fond of confections. Their comforts reign supreme for they are among the few things in this world that make life worth living."

Those who adjudged him dramatic for his claim would hold a false opinion. Rafal bespoke only his truth, and he dared to call it even a cardinal truth of this world! No flavor and no food was greater than that which was sweet, the highest call of luxury that lulled the taste-buds to heavenly bliss. Should this fell dragon abstain from sleep and drink in his journey of redemption he would never extend that lunacy to his cherished desserts. He would sooner perish.

"Now make yourself useful, Hound. If you are my faithful servant, then let this be my first order of command—" Little contested, there were at least some dramatics involved in the jab of his finger, bringing attention anew to the table behind Griss.

"Absolve me of judgment. Retrieve for me a second plate."

[nelithic]

@desertslegacy:

[ Indulge ] It is nothing that she had planned to do, but one moment she had been conversing perfectly pleasantly with a comrade, sharing in the new and exotic hors doeuvres and a bit of drink, having fun in spite of the strange and unsettling circumstances - above her she felt the bristle of her patron against her shoulders, a solar flare of annoyance prickling her skin, behind her eyes, blinding her momentarily. She knew that there were dragons here - many, in fact, and many of them seemed delighted to be there, relaxing and enjoying the company of their friends - but the moment she locked eyes with the pale woman Igrene felt her hair ruffle and her body moved. In a slight panic, Igrene tensed her every muscle, to no avail - her arm was drawing back, and as she stepped within range, she struck -

despite the strange way this realm had come to be, she had yet to encounter true danger or hostility yet this evening. the elementals themselves were puckish creatures, but their actions contained little malice. this did not preclude vigilance of course; it was understood that magical forms of life were particularly mercurial, and the situation here could change swiftly.

it is for this reason that, when she meets the sun-dusted woman's eyes, she pauses instantly. something is—

the chair topples and the woman is on her feet, and nel sees the lunge a moment before it comes. she sidesteps, catching the thrown punch with a hand and stumbling back some steps before she catches her balance against the strength greater than she had anticipated. the alarmed murmur of nearby patrons goes unheard as eyes newly hardened fix on the would-be assailant, tension coiling to answer a threat that had finally come. "what is the meaning of this."

another swing comes before her answer does, forcing her to release the hand in her grip to duck the hooking blow overhead.

[solarsbrace]

✶ — › 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 ‹ — ✶

@sacretic

"greetings, prince lyon." it is far too formal of a hello for ephraim, but this was indeed a formal setting. even if it was stiff and uncomfortable for him, this is what he had spent many moons practicing back home. the art of conversation, the way of building connections amongst other nobles. it felt so frivolous, and yet it's importance was stressed to him time and time again. part of him wanted to know, at the very least, if lyon would recognize this change in him. would the prince see his commitment to doing things right? for both renais and grado...

"i had not expected to find you attending this kind of event of your own volition." the same could be said for himself, he thought... perhaps he was not the only one determined to change. the way the three of them used to sneak away together, avoiding the watchful eyes of adults. the fields they passed the time in, even the ideas they shared... all were in the past. everyone, including him, had to grow up at some point.

"i'm glad you're enjoying yourself, but i wonder if i might impose upon you for a moment?" this blasted way of speaking, never to the point and always filled with useless fluff. he could break this character and speak as he wanted, but that would spit in the face of his commitment. even if it did take a thousand words, he would get a handshake out of lyon. "i wonder if you might share your element with me? i'm told a handshake is sufficient."

[elusivia]

[ Cue the Music ] Music, he certainly was used to hearing it but the act of dancing wasn't one he could call himself an expert on. Though likely more skilled than some, he was far from coming closer to those who could truly set their body in motion and dance an stunning coreography. But this was a ball and it would be a dishonor to not give an activity meant for one a try, as slow and slightly awkward as his movements may turn to be, he would try to keep this experience a pleasant one.

Far from wishing to be at the center of it all, he approached Zelkov who was standing in not-so-hidden corner. Taking off his glove and letting the mark of wind enjoy the air for once, he reached with it towards him. "Zelkov," He bowed, the hand still standing high for him to take. "Would you perhaps like to share a dance with me?"

Zelkov found there to be an endless amount of interesting outfits and people to observe. He wasn’t Louis, but he didn’t mind taking a brief reprieve on the sidelines. Bunet’s offer softened Zelkov’s passive stare into a soft smile, taking his hand and letting his fire mark also flare, their necklaces mutually blooming. The song was slow and leisurely, just the sort for keeping each other company.

“I would *indeed*.” Zelkov let Bunet lead them into a slow dance, just two in a sea of other dancers. There was something about Bunet’s presence he couldn’t quite parse out, something calming against the visual and literal noise all around them.

It didn’t take Zelkov much adjustment to lean his head on Bunet’s shoulder, tension immediately draining from his body, at rest while still subconsciously following the leisurely steps.

“For a *chef* such as yourself, this gathering must be *inspiring* you at every turn. I would *enjoy* hearing your observations,” he murmured. Zelkov could listen to Bunet talk all day long, and listening while so close sounded so nice. His own mind was still racing from the world of possibilities of coffee.

[ulirblood]

@twistedisciple moved from here

she’s dealt with plenty of different patients before in her lifetime. crying ones, stoic ones, ones that wouldn’t stay till no matter how you approached them— but griss is a new one. she’s never seen anyone enjoy being hurt.

he must be going delirious she finally decides, though she doesn’t say this out loud. “stop.” she grabs his wrist before he can make it any worse on himself, ignoring the blood now tricking down her hand and giving him a warning of a narrowed glare. he’s like a rowdy twelve year old boy.

“i’m going to numb the area with magic then put all your fingers back in place. that way you won’t be screaming your head off from the pain.” she explains her thought process, though something tells her in her mind he may not want that. “once that’s over with i can speed up the healing process and your hand will be as good as new. does that sound alright?”

[twistedisciple]

"You there! Yes, you!" Forsyth marches up to the troublemaker--Griss, he's heard. This man has been causing a series of ruckuses across the ball, and even visiting grief upon Lady Celica! He shall not allow such miscreancy to continue! He seizes the man's hand, hardly taking notice of the flowers blooming on each of their necklaces. "Your knavish actions have visited chaos upon this gathering! I command you to cease at once, or face disciplinary action!"

Is this man even a member of the staff, here? How could Lady Rhea approve such a fiendish individual? No matter; he will either start to behave, or Forsyth will take the necessary steps.

"Command?" Griss whirls on his new critic with a look halfway between amusement and challenge, and boy is he a sight. He cuts the figure of a knight even with emerald cloth in place of armor, his posture straight, a chiding look that would've come straight from the pages of a textbook if there was one on making faces (and Griss is pretty sure there's gotta be at least one, somewhere, that's found its way into this guy's hands). Griss, by contrast, slumps down by nearly a third of his full height, shoulders and neck at odd angles, one arm hanging, the other limp in the knight's hand. He makes no effort to pull away, but a smirk snakes lazily across his lips as a flower blooms from his own vine. That was easy. Now he could have a little fun.

"What're you gonna do if I don't?" he prods, tilting his head and staring up at the knight from an angle. "Gimme a preview of this 'disciplinary action,' if you've got the authority."

[desertslegacy]

Kelas

What extravagant parties these Fodlani have. Igrene can't say she's an expert, but Elibe certainly never had an event like this. But none seem to be in danger, and so she's determined to have a good time, and to ensure those under her care do as well.

She won't be out and about on the floor, but moving about the fringes of the event, gliding like liquid sun in the gown provided for her. A stickler for appearances, her Fiery patron insisted her dress be a match for the brand on her hand. Feeling anxious? Come say hello. She'd be happy to ease your worries.

Week One Prompts: ACCEPTING ASKS!

Week Two Prompts: ACCEPTING ASKS!

Week Three Prompts: ACCEPTING ASKS!

Marks:

Air — Lloyd, Nel, Ivy

Earth — Python, Kurthnaga, Chad

Fire — Lilith, Cecilia, Ethlyn

Lightning — Laslow, Sain, Lyon, Sophia

Water — Lachesis, Edelgard

[lycianlynx]

the wiping party of mach // w.h.c. round 1

If Chad can say anything, it's that they don't want to be here — But between suffering Earth's heavy scrutiny for the entirety of the rest of the night and just suffering it for a little while and being mostly free of it the rest of the night, they picked the latter.

They're kind of regretting it, honestly. Though the boy's not an awful dancer, though they've gone through the practice moves with a clear mind, critical eye and definite objective: Do passably and Get Out — The closer their turn draws, the more their hands shake. There's a tension in their entire body they can't force out, jaw clenched, shoulders drawn taut like a livewire.

All they can see and hear with the lights turned on them is their own thundering heartbeat, their cloying breath and light, light, light, piercing them through — But at least muscle memory wouldn't fail them as the music starts up — A low roar, slow, deliberate, flowing movements that go from one into the next — But a set of strings builds up speed, becomes frenetic as Chad lets momentum carry them from one gesture to the next, half-falling into a spin that dips them low and back up again, their own gravity precarious as their sleeves trail out behind them —

Fine, so far. But they can't keep up the balance they need for for the recovery, their limbs sluggish from anxiety nipping at their heels, and their foot loses ground into an ungainly stumble, disrupting their flow.

A roaring panic begins to eat at them, the fiddle fraying not just the strings, but the last of their own nerves alongside it; There's a recovery as they substitute in a heel spin, but the rest of the choreography flies away from their fingertips as a controlled dip falls out of their hands, has them falling to the floor, and instead of coming back up smoothly, they hit the ground, hard, and the shock has them take a fraction too long to get back up.

The music cuts out. The boy lies, wide-eyed, not daring to move for a long moment — Before the eyes, the eyes register, and they're scrambling onto hands and knees, stricken. This — This was a mistake. This was a mistake. They never should've — Never should've—!!

Earth rumbles in disapproval. Chad can't even bring themself to look at the score numbers, lifted up damningly just inches above their field of vision.

style: 1 choreo: 3 technical: 3

They need to get out of here, now. They gather themself up, bow hastily and vacate the stage for their opponent — Making themself scarce in the maze of hedges under cover of night, tears pricking at their eyes.

et tu, @viridescent-lance @nagaficat?

[braveryinblue]

He sees him well across the ballroom. Of course he does. Raven doesn't think there's a waking moment that he doesn't know where the whelp is. He considers for a moment keeping his distance, but he notices that the whelp has his eye on him, too.

Ever-vigilant, isn't he. That suited him fine, then. He wasn't about to start a fight in a setting like this - too many people, he didn't have any sort of advantage to speak of.

So he puts on his best mask, the friendly noble his father's bannermen had always hoped he would become, and approaches.

"Well met again, my lord marquess. I see none were spared in this spectacle. At least our benevolent patrons have provided us with entertainment to spare," he says with a light chuckle that almost sticks in his throat, verging on unnatural.

"Ah!" From a small dish nearby, Raven plucks out a handful of pastilles, and flicks one deftly into his mouth. Donning a smile that ill fit him these days, he extended the hand. "Mint? I suppose these kinds of events lead to all sorts of situations, don't they?"

"Huh- oh, hey." Oh. Right. "Well met," he corrects, though he doesn't bother looking sheepish about it. Raymond doesn't seem stuffy enough to be overly bothered by such lack of formality, and Hector but hopes he's got the man pinned right.

(Although, as far as 'pinned right' goes... There is ever something strange about him Hector can't quite pinpoint. There's no reason for it, and yet. Instinct warns of something, even if that something remains cloaked in mystery. After all, outwardly, Raymond seemed just fine. Just another noble raised for high society better than Hector could ever hope to be.

Maybe Hector should lean into formalities a bit more with him, come to think of it.)

"They were certainly thorough about their business," Hector agrees. This kind of small talk chafes. It reminds him of politics. Of what awaits back home.

"Say. We should spar, one day. You've the look of a fine opponent, I think."

There. That's more his speed. Would that all men could but speak with their weapons. But would Raymond understand?

But Raymond's already won this bout of words, at the very least.

"Huh? What-!" Cheeky, this one.

"Not on my watch, it won't!" Nevertheless, he swipes one of the mints for himself. Shit. The council needn't hear that. "But freshening up couldn't hurt, right?" And so, pops the token into his mouth as well.

[viridescent-lance]

for the honor of the planning committee (ethereal ball open)

[ Make a Request ] - to your overseers to provide you with your favorite snacks and directions to the nearest bathroom put into place some of the careful plans that Garreg Mach employees spent weeks preparing!

Forsyth paces back and forth, shaking his head. The unique invitations! The handmade decorations! The trade routes they'd secured to ensure the delivery of various goods on time, and the layouts they'd painstakingly optimized for both ballside fun and ease of teardown...all for naught, right now.

He had taken great pride in his role on the planning committee, and these "elementals" had not merely wrought havoc and shrank the entire monastery population, but hijacked the Ethereal Ball itself! They hadn't even considered consulting the committee, and Forsyth's patron, the "Water" elemental, just isn't listening.

"At the very least, could we utilize the photography booth? We spent a fair amount of time, energy, and resources to have it present!" Forsyth did not expect to spend his night (the first of what may be an extended stay in these beings' dollhouse) arguing with a being composed of aquatic energy, but here he stands, speaking up into the sky to a voice he knows is listening. "You could shrink it and integrate it quite nicely near the dressing room in the main hall; there is a fairly unused room there that could be perfect!"

"I do not understand...we did everything we could for these mortals to have the time of their lives. We even took the pressure off you! The rodents care for the chores, while you can have fun! There is no need to worry, little one. Would you like some more sweets?"

A cookie manifests into Forsyth's hand, yet again. Brown sugar and chocolate chip, a favorite of his. He bites into it, chewing with frustration as he fixes the sky with a glare that says he will not be bribed, but he also will not waste food.

"It feels as if you are not understanding what I mean, with all due respect." Forsyth swipes crumbs from his lip; he may seem ridiculous, but at the very least Water has been listening to his grievances, even if they don't seem to quite recognize him as anything other than a particularly intelligent pet. He's made progress. Probably. "I'm not saying you did a poor job, far from it, but it is downright rude to take possession of this night without a care for those who planned it!"

"Hmmm...well, if you say it thus. Perhaps I can consult with my siblings about incorporating this 'photographic' device you so desire, if you need it so much."

Oh? A glimmer of understanding, perhaps? Forsyth nods. He is used to having to negotiate; a deft combination of politeness and directness is vital in such situations.

Clive is usually the one who takes the lead, as Forsyth has been told that while he means well, his vigor can come across poorly in ways he did not intend. He has improved greatly in the last few years, but he knows it is a place he has much to grow in. But tonight, he is seeing those efforts come to fruition! ...maybe.

"Oh! It would be unfair not to ask your companions their opinions. I want only the best for you!" Water peers back once again, their glowing eyes fixated on a spot behind Forsyth. ...has someone else been privy to this exchange? Forsyth's bravado falters; has he truly handled this to the best of his ability? There were word choices and shortness of temper on his behalf that could have easily sabotaged this exchange, now that he thinks of it. "Come now, little one. What would you have us do to improve this experience?"

Another cookie, frosted this time, finds its way into Forsyth's grasp. Water seems to have noticed his distress. He scarfs it down quickly, shaking his head to let it be known that he does not condone their actions.