#your-dandy-king

[murillo-enthusiast]

… The craftsmanship is… of a very high quality… Statues are not my preferred medium but I must note the fidelity to, ah, presumed detail is very… tastefully done. The sculptor is very talented; the way the light and shadow falls to accentuate the… curves… is startlingly reminiscent of the old masters. Particularly the softness of the, ah, flesh is almost… palpable.

…

*teeth gritted* Thank you, @your-dandy-king, for this gift. It will… look nice in my gallery.

*Earlier that day*

[chanceux-et-perdu]

L’étendue de l’appel

–•• • ••–• •• –• • –•• –••• –•–– •–– ––– ••– –• –•• ••• ((@your-dandy-king))

( 1 ) –•• • ••–• •• –• • –•• –••• –•–– • –– •––• – •• –• • ••• •••

Villeneuve watches, wringing his hands, knowing that he logically is reassured by the genuine skill of this man, knowing that this is the real deal, knowing that rationally he should... what? Was any of this rational? He could be still standing in the storm, lying to himself that he was watching everything shatter when, in fact, it had already fallen apart. He could still be drowning in that sunless waterless land, too hesitant to take that final step to... Ţʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇͦᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴀᴄᴋᴇᴅ... Should stop that, even if the Emperor wants us to move right now.

Vɪ̋ʟͣʟᴇɴᴇᴜᴠᴇ: How do I feel?

What kind of question is that? It still hurts. But he still wants to be of use, even if he can't bring himself to- to- which order should he obey? What should he do? Logically, this is right. This is just an answer to his letters. Maybe. And then the strange visual effects around will simmer down as another presence barges in and speaks.

Vɪʟʟᴇɴᴇᴜᴠᴇ: Sᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀ̸ᴅᴀ ᴍᴀʀꜱᴇɪʟʟᴀ̍ɪꜱ͕ ʙᴀᴠᴀʀ��� ʜᴀ̴ͧꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴍ̏ᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ! Wᴇ ᴡɪʟʟͭ ᴀʟʟᴏ́ᴡ ʏᴏͨᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ͙̍ ʏ͌ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʀᴀ̢ꜰᴛ,̨ ᴛʜ̨ᴇɴ.̪ Wᴇ̳ ᴡɪʟʟ̛ ᴀ͙ʟʟ͕ᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱꜰᴏ͛ʀ̪ᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴋ͆ɪʟʟ ᴜꜱ̩́! Bᴜᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ̥ ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ̸ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴘᴀɪʀ͞, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡͪɪ̵ʟʟ ɴᴇᴠ̳ᴇʀ ʙᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪx-

And then the form of the broken admiral will start coughing. He grabs for a hankerchief and holds it up to his mouth, but it can be plainly seen that he is, in fact, coughing up splinters of wood and little pinpricks of white light. As he coughs, the afterimages and blurriness of the ship around flare up, in time to each gasping breath.

Vɪʟʟᴇɴᴇᴜᴠᴇ: Ah, excuse me. My apologies. Do you require payment, Monsieur Briel? Or is this paid for by the Ministry?

Colonel Musquinet: I believe that this is free, Admiral. For you.

Vɪʟʟᴇɴᴇᴜᴠᴇ: Surely not..?

•••• ––– •–– –•–• •– –• –•–– ––– ••– ••–• •• –••– •–– •••• •– – •• ••• –•• • ••–• •• –• • –•• –••• –•–– –••• • •• –• ––• –••• •–• ––– –•– • –• ••––••

[armagnac-army]

The Marriage of Jean-Baptiste Bessières (@bayard-de-la-garde) and Jean Lannes (@armagnac-army)

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

This is absolutely not a traditional 19th century Gascon wedding, occuring in this afterlife reflection of the Cathédrale Saint-Etienne in Murat's realm. This is a hasty affair born out of stubborn pride and a melancholic longing for connection, in much the same way that hedgehogs have their little dilemmas. There are no proud parents of the wedded couple here, no dowries in wooden chests, no crowns or clogs or millet in shoes or joining of two families. Not that a wedding actually fulfilled the promise of joining two families, as Lannes thought to himself moodily. But this was no place for such thoughts- this was the place to show that stupid Bessières just how good of a husband he could be! There probably wasn't a traditional procession on a traditional Gascon cart towards the church. Probably. But there was an open bar and lots of alcohol, which is very important.

Standing by on this groom's side is ADC Subervie who has two nearly empty wineglasses in his hand, as well as Marshal Bessières and Marshal Soult of the Army of the Beyond- though the latter is, uh, currently much younger than usual, about 8 years old and also has no idea what is going on. But he does look very smart in his now tailored tiny uniform, and he's just quietly staring at everything that's going on, his attention wandering off in the way that young ones often do in events as these. Marshal Bessières, for his part, has a face of serene blankness on his face, as if events are simply occurring around him that are absolutely not his fault. Anyway, it's time for the vows, and it's time for the roi de Naples - @your-dandy-king - to make his statement and questions!

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

Of course, you too can be here at this wonderful marriage, but do hold your presence and commentary until the vows have been exchanged. You'll know when that happens!

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

[the-adventures-of-lydia-brown]

To Mme. L. Brown,

I must begin this letter with an apology for its impertinence. You and I have never met face to face. However, I know that you were instrumental in the occurrence in my domain in which I was indisposed. For that, you have my gratitude.

As you may be aware, General Duroc and I are parents to a daughter, Helene, and I am seeking someone who may be able to supplement her education. I would like to speak with you at some point about your talents, and at a place and time of your choosing.

Attached to this letter is a small sachet of dried lavender from my gardens as a token of my appreciation. May it bring you pleasant dreams.

- J.B. Bessières, Duc d'Istrie, on @your-dandy-king's stationary

Now this is an occasion she had been looking forward to, despite being a little nervous about it. She isn't completely sure what parts of the truth of their mission she is free to share - honestly, she regrets not asking Murat for the specifics of what knowledge might harm his beloved while she had the chance. But her curiosity, in this case, is stronger than her worries.

To the Duke of Istria,

Do not worry, I do not find the act of sending a letter too forward from you, nor do I take the slightest offense. It is often the case here, after all, that one receives a note from a complete stranger and we already have several common acquaintances! (Well, acquaintances to me, your relationships with them are far more substantial...)

I am honoured that you consider me a good potential tutor for little Helene and I would be delighted to answer any questions you might have for me. As for the time and place, I suppose tomorrow morning is as good a time as any - and while I would gladly invite you here, I'm afraid the less-than-solid nature of some parts of my realm might not exactly be the pinnacle of comfort and safety, so I would suggest meeting in the vicinity of the Cathedral of Cahors in @your-dandy-king's domain, if that suits you. Luckily, I am quite able to find my way there.

I wish you and your family the best and I am looking forward to our meeting!

Sincerely,

Lydia B.

P.S.

I realised I forgot to thank you for the lavender, which is honestly baffling, considering it's one of my favourite flowers. You have chosen well and your gift is much appreciated.

[bal-masque-des-grands-chapeaux]

@ask-tsaralexander & @your-dandy-king

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Félicitations ! The stars of the evening have chosen you as dance and conversational partners for the waltz and/or quadrille. This thread is for you two to at least talk to each other and either get along or don't get along in an entertaining way.

The entrance to the ball may be found here, with more information and activities to partake in.

We would suggest describing your mask and greeting as a good starting point. Bonne chance !

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Here are some Out Of Character things to keep in mind:

You're both wearing masks, and might not recognise each other even if you know each other. Maybe if you want to be able to recognise your partner, ask OOCly first if you can.

For the specific dance partner threads, only post if you're a participant.

There's no word count requirement for roleplay posts. We encourage shorter, conversational posts to promote interaction, but we won't police writing styles.

Real life takes priority, so please be understanding if dance partners don't respond quickly. We hope for a conversation to develop within 2-4 weeks.

If your dance partner is unresponsive and you're eager to participate, use the general mingle threads. You might find a new partner or even ask a host or staff member to dance.

Remember, this is an in-character high-class event with etiquette expectations. While your character can be rude, avoid excessive disruptions. The focus should be on conversation and relationships.

Remember that in-character actions don't reflect out-of-character feelings. If a character is rude IC, don't take it personally OOC. If you do have any concerns, the messages will be open on this blog.

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We wish you a most pleasant encounter, and may fortune smile upon you and joy guide your steps!

[murillo-enthusiast]

Ah. Yes. Leave while I am speaking to you about your nonsensical and inane behaviours, Your Highness. I will simply wait here for you to come back to your proper senses.

As Murat disappears, Soult stalks around the room, staring at the burned furniture with disbelief and anger.

Brun: ... I think that crystal is affecting his brain, Monsieur.

... Wait by that doorway, in cover. When he emerges, shoot the crystal.

In response to the whispered command, Brun takes his position and prepares his pistol. When Murat appears, two things will happen: Soult is going to yell some more at Murat as a distraction.

Welcome back.

AS I WAS SAYING, I am in utter disbelief as to how careless you have acted in this whole endeavour. How are we meant to set an example to the Grande Armée if the highest authorities are engaging in-

And the ADC is going to aim and fire.

((Picking up from where @murillo-enthusiast left off.))

>>Unpause Murat._

Murat is now unpaused.

Murat blinks.

>>Assess situation._

Murat stands amidst the smoldering remnants of his folly, the room a tragic tableau of burned furniture and singed elegance. Soult's admonishments dance in the air like echoes of wisdom in a realm of chaos. His bladder, a traitor in this moment of crisis, demands attention with an urgency that rivals the flames now extinguished.

My memory's a bit fuzzy on what you just said, mon ami Soult, but I promise I'll try not to set off any more fireworks indoors. Let's just chalk that up to a fabulous mistake, shall we?

>>MURAT. Go take care of your bladder before you have a critical failure, for fuck's sake._

>>I must attend to the whims of my demanding bladder posthaste! Fear not, for I shall handle this with the style and flair befitting my marvelous persona.

I'll be back in a jiffy, darling. Don't miss me too much!

[emborami]

Through the years, from popinjay to coxcomb to maccaroni to dandy to dude

[askgeraudduroc]

A YANDERE Tea Party!

🍃-🍃-🍃-🍃-🍃-🍃

🌿Part 1🌿

@murillo-enthusiast: THE MACARÈL ARE YOU DOING YOU CAPBORDÀS

@armagnac-army: WHOSE SWEARING NOW HIPPOCRITE!!!!

@napoleon-bonapartee: Well..I'm here now.. i was expecting a great time with wines.. It NOT WINE it was TEA

@your-dandy-king: "Darling, [...] Can you do that whirlwind thing? Or turn into air? Fly? Pop in and out like Helene does?"

@general-junot: Duroc? Ah, it’s good to see a friendly face again. What drinks do you serve here, just tea or anything stronger?

@le-fils: this is a tea party, Eugène at least would like to be able to eat and drink something. Possibly without any vines getting in the way. And where's Duroc gone?

🌿-----------------🌿

As just expected, the vines instantly acts and now also take hold of the other hand of Lannes, while also putting a strawberry tart into his mouth.

Meanwhile, with everyone else, his hands would get free but in exchange their lower part will get restrained to the chairs even more.

🍃-🍃-🍃-🍃-🍃-🍃

[armagnac-army]

VERY TALL????? HES JUST BARELY TALLER THAN ME! HES SHORT AS SHIT!

*Lannes is trying very hard to sound normal right now, despite this being his vision right now:*

Heyyy there is no need to be jealous I would be glad to let you join us next time 😘😘

I can probably find a cute Russian hussar for you too. . . You know it’s just a bit difficult to find someone who wants to, with you being very tall and . . . A ginger (yikes)

//Your dandy king

Murat, again, I have no such need. But the idea is fucking stupid.

They will not FUCK us, they will FUCK US UP and I hope you are aware of the difference.

Also, I do not take any comments about my appearance from you, as every time I see you, you look like an exotic bird. Every single uniform of yours is drawing attention and therefore screaming “Shoot me”.

Again, no Russian campaign.

[murillo-enthusiast]

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

🖼️𝑁𝑒⁣𝑦'𝑠 𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑒🖼️

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

Previously... 🐱Internalised Catgirl Misogyny: ( 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ) 🎨An Interloper in the Gallery 🖼️N⁣ey's Painted Paradise: ( 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 )

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

He smiled. He was so happy. — @le-brave-des-braves “Motherfucker! [...] She begged you to save him, you say? What kind of 'comfort' did you give, Marmont?” — M⁣ur⁣at of @your-dandy-king “Can someone tell Lannes that he isn’t allowed to just go ice diving during active duty. . . I’m too tired.” — Na⁣pol⁣e⁣on of @alexanderfanboy “D-DUROC!” — M⁣arm⁣on⁣t of @askgeraudduroc “Hah...” — D⁣a⁣vou⁣t of @perdicinae-observer

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

The air is freezing but it’s actual air. They can breathe. Murat finally stopped bleeding. They are standing on the bank of a large not quite frozen river. Dnieper. If they look in the water, they see faces. If they looked long enough, they would recognise the friends they lost. — ❄️

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

For a moment- he is sitting on the chair in that room of which the provenance he had not known, he is listening to a young man who he had felt such bitter irritations towards, he is cold and he is still and yet he still reaches out of his frame towards the only comrade he had at Waterloo, or was he reaching out to a lost young man who could have been his son? And then the moment is sketched away, to be replaced by a winter that he did not himself experience.

Soult: ...

He looks around - Murat is attacking Marmont, Napoleon and Duroc are transfixed by the water and may be about to fall in, Davout has fallen and is retching, macarèl de macarèl.

Soult: ATTENTION! TO ME!

He barks the words, as if he is calling to his soldiers, not to his colleagues. He glares at them, seemingly untouched by the doubts that Levavasseur had introduced just before.

I don't know what happened to Marshal Soult but he is clearly different from all of us.

He does not feel the chill in the air. He does not recognise the bodies in the water. He does not care to think about philosophical meanderings that have no practical impact on rational realities. It is preferable that he is not succumbing and faltering to what everyone else is succumb and faltering to, yes, definitely, so there is no damn point to thinking about why that is the case. Again, he calls, and he moves- towards Murat and Marmont.

Soult: Murat, Marmont- gentlemen, we are in ENEMY TERRITORY. We can litigate this later! Everyone, away from the water! Davout, can you stand? Levavasseur- help Davout stand!

He grabs the collar of Duroc's coat and yanking him back as much as he is able, and as he does so, he glances at the water- Surely he is not hoping to see Caroline, Franceschi, Mortier, Lameth, so many- He does not recognise the bodies in the water, and, despite himself, despite everything, that hurts.

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

[chanceux-et-perdu]

L’étendue de l’appel

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

((@your-dandy-king)) prev

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

The sea today is a gentle swell, to and fro, painted in curious shades of amaranth and amaryllis. The lost vice-admiral of a broken fleet watches as a rowboat approaches his ship, one driftwood eye sparkling with static emptiness. He does not know how he quite feels about this… female marshal, who claims to represent the Ministre de la Marine, who claims to be the famed horseman Murat, who claims to offer so much in exchange for so little. But then again, he is unsure of so many things.

Vɪʟʟᴇɴᴇᴜᴠᴇ: Bienvenue, Maréchale. Please, let me aid you- the steps can be slippery.

O̬ꜰ ᴄᴏᴜʀꜱᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴛ̊͘ʀᴜ̢ꜱᴛ ʜᴇʀ. Bᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇʟꜱᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ꜱʜᴇ ᴅ̫ᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴜ͠ꜱ? The tower’s light in the distance continues to flicker on and off.

•–– •••• •– – •• ••• •– –•–• •– •••– •– •–•• •–• –•–– –– •– –• –•• ––– •• –• ––• ––– –• – •••• • ••• • •– ••––••

[armagnac-army]

Montebello,

I need to meet with you as soon as possible, regardless if the time and place is inconvenient for you.

M. J-B. Bessières

Maréchal d'Empire (retr.)

Duc d'Istrie

(On @your-dandy-king's stationary)

The letter in response:

YEAH SURE COME MEET ME AT MY HEADQUARTERS ITS CURRENTLY ON A GODDAMN FARM CANT MISS IT ONE OF MY MEN WILL MEET YOU

⸻ The Duke of Montebello

He's not happy about this, but he won't straight up refuse.

⸻·⸻·⸻·⸻

When Bessières arrives in the area of the afterlife that Lannes has set up his headquarters in, he will find that it resembles some kind of mixture of sunny Italian landscapes and Polish houses spread out haphazardly, a mashup of memories. A soldier on guard will take Bessières to an encampment around a farm. The camp is somewhat busy, but interestingly, there are women and children around - cantinières and camp followers. It would seem strange that an army comprised of memories and ghosts in the afterlife would require such upkeep, but then again, perhaps these are the memories of such vivandières who travelled with the army, and perhaps reenacting such memories helped sustain the army itself. Lannes will keep Bessières waiting- for thirty minutes- until he emerges from the farm, looking very irritated.

What do you want?!

[the-adventures-of-lydia-brown]

[An indecipherable and scribbled blob in hot pink, green, and purple crayon]

-- unsigned on @your-dandy-king's stationary

Oh, that is pretty!!!

*squints*

Is it a horse? This looks like a hind leg, but... I've never seen a pink horse before... ... anyway...

*sticks a little star sticker in the corner, taking care not to cover any part of the drawing*

Good job!

[a-mysterious-wisp-of-mist]

Portrait of a prince

Previously... A mysterious king donates some paint so Eugène can have his portrait painted by Francisco de Goya...

.~.~. (here) .~.~.

Sᴏᴜʟᴛ: Good lu̐ck͊.̪ I w̡il̮l not be back̻ for... let us say, a week? Do tak͘e your t̬ime. Thi̫s... should be a w̹ork of͉ art̶.

Aɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ̳ɴ ʜᴇ ꜱᴛ̻ᴇᴘꜱ ɪɴ̴ ᴀ͞ ᴅ̱ɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪ͜ᴏɴ̃ ᴛ͎ʜᴀᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛꜱ ʏ̦ᴏᴜʀ̢ ᴇ̎ʏᴇꜱ ᴛ̓ᴏ ꜱ̖ᴇᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜ͐ᴇ'ͨꜱ̶ ɢᴏɴᴇ͉, ʟᴇᴀᴠ̂ɪɴɢ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ̟ ᴛͧʜʀᴇ̞̈́ᴇ ᴘ́ᴀɪɴᴛ̈́-ᴘᴏᴛꜱ ꜰɪʟʟ̧ᴇᴅ̙ ᴡɪᴛʜ̗ ᴄᴏ͜ʟᴏᴜ̇ʀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ᴅᴇꜰɪɴɪ͟ᴛᴇʟʏ̷ ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜͤ. Iꜰ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴜʀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀ̞ɪ̓ɴᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ꜱᴜ͆ʙͮᴊᴇᴄᴛ͖ ᴡʜᴏ ɪꜱ... ɴᴏᴛ̜ ʟͪɪᴋᴇ͠ ᴛʜᴀᴛ? Gᴏᴏͩᴅ̖ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ɪɴᴅᴇᴇ̿ᴅ, Mᴏɴꜱ͛ɪ̂ᴇᴜʀ Gᴏʏᴀ,̧ Pʀɪɴᴄᴇ Èᴜɢ̑ᴇ̀ɴᴇ.

.~.~. (and here) .~.~.

[...] The sun slips below the horizon entirely and disappears. The twilight deepens from blue, to purple, to velvety black. The Milky Way glitters like a ribbon formed of brilliant, but cold, diamonds, and untainted by the skyglow that plagues modern cities.

Night has come to the domain of the Dandy King.

.~.~. (and here) .~.~.

[... Eugène, shouting out of the window into the night:]

Well, up yours, you insufferable, traiterous peacock! The sun will have to rise again at some point, and we can wait as long as it takes. And if not, we'll just go elsewhere or collect enough lamps and candles to lighten up this room better than daylight could! You will not keep my portrait from being done!

.~.~. (and finally here) .~.~.

After wine, the encouraged painter prepares a new canvas and instructs Eugene to assume a refined pose fit for a monarch like himself. Priming the canvas and the initial sketch went on as normal… until some paint got inevitably smudged on Goya’s clothes…

He suddenly froze in horror, clenching the brush. His eyes widened and he took several steps back, as if trying to escape an invisible monster.

.~.~.

And now:

.~.~.

Eugène is still a little exhausted from running up and down the stairs in search for every source of light, every lamp and every candle stub he managed to find in Bessières' house. And while the resulting brightness is still far from daylight, it seems to be enough for Monsieur Goya to start his work.

It is a very similar experience to his earlier portrait sessions, with Monsieur Gérard or Signore Appiani: Eugène is asked to strike as stately a pose as possible - and feels downright stupid while doing so. That's not him at all, and he knows it.

But what if Eugène "being Eugène" is not appreciated by the rest of the world? Maybe he has to act against his own beliefs in order to be somebody people can admire and respect - or even only notice? He glances at the paints the now royal Marshal Soult has so generously left for the portrait. Right at that moment, Monsieur Goya is dipping his brush into the deep red colour, and this colour seems to whisper into Eugène's mind that he is right, that this is the way for him to go. With new confidence, Eugène once more adopts the pose that feels so ridiculous to him.

Until Monsieur Goya suddenly gasps, his fingers clutching the brush, knuckles turning white. He looks at Eugène with an expression of utter horror.

Monsieur Goya?

Immediately, the pose is forgotten. Eugène may desire this portrait, he may even want to have it badly enough to be ready to hurt himself. But he is not (yet?) willing to let another being suffer because of his personal wishes. He hurries to Monsieur Goya's side, takes him by the arm and tries to guide him to a sofa.

Please, sit down and catch your breath, Monsieur! Here is your glass, please drink something. What has happened? Is it the paint again? I shall run and get a wash basin and more soap, so we can clean it off. And then, if you wish, we shall take a break, so you can rest and regain your strength. King Nicolas said he would only be back in a week, there is no reason to rush this.

[bal-masque-des-grands-chapeaux]

The seahorse-masked man claps his hands in delight. To @your-dandy-king's draw of what a more modern observer might call a "cee-dee", he says, "Monsieur, one can never have too many mirrors! Even if you're the King of Naples, which you probably aren't..!"

To the girl in the nightingale mask, he beams. "Que c'est mignon ! There are a great many of these toys, but to think that these may be the lost possessions of children or those who were once children... treasure that puppy well!"

"Both of you are welcome to take more! We spent so long wrapping these up. I hope the Marshal lets me take some home with me..."

The Masquerade Lucky Draw

On this table, there should have been a lovely tablecloth, but it cannot be seen from all the wrapped presents that absolutely cover the entire thing. Knickknacks of all shapes and sizes, wrapped in various ways in seasonal wrapping papers, have been carelessly piled up, with some even having tumbled to the floor.

Supervising the table is a man in a yellow suit with a mask of patterned seahorses, their faces and tails curling around the mask's eyes. He enthusiastically welcomes you and begins explaining what this is all about.

"Welcome, welcome, to the lucky raffle! This is a collection of treasures that @your-dandy-king has kindly donated from his vault, which accumulates that which has been lost and misplaced throughout history and time..! Come, take a present and unwrap it!"

"And do show us what you get..!"

You are encouraged to reply to this post with what you find from the lucky draw, comment on other people's finds, talk to the seahorse-masked man or just generally interact with people in this thread.

Or, you can go back to the entrance of the ball, generally mingle with people, attend to your thirst at the refreshments or go to see the diversions table.

[smileyjart]

This meme is giving me life. They didn't wanna sit in him, XD