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It's a Wonderful Fae Life.....

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(Since we didn't get far on last year's alternate Xmas thread due to site slow down, we are going to hitch it up to the sleigh one more time :) again this is just for fun! Doesn't count as real play! HAVE FUN!!)

The evening is covered in winter, the glow from the streetlights glistens over the fresh powder that covers the world. The city is unnaturally silent.


The first falling flakes glimmer unnatural. Like children lost in the stupor of a dream, people find themselves drawn outside, drawn into the crisp cold night air. Inexplicably their feet move one after the other towards lower Manhattan, towards a three story club that has not been open since the Resonance yet now seems to warmly beckon like a polished jewel. But this is the hotel California now - those that try to leave, find they exit the club only to come out through the door on the rooftop deck, never able to get outside.

So you think your actions are your own do you? There is mischief in the air. Too long the petite fairies have kept hidden, too long they have restrained their impish natures. Now, in the wake of the Holiday season, they toy with the denizens.


Your feet find their way to Delancey, the club rising three levels of lush red velvet enticement, including a rooftop deck. Decorated in dripping snowflakes and dancing lights, the music undulates your hips without your commanding them. Buffet tables of delectable treats line all the walls on all three floors. Drinks appear on the bar continually for guests to partake, a bevy of colors they glisten like wet gemstones on the dark wood counter. Each as unique and lush as New York herself. Each holding a secret impish gift. You may hesitate to join in, yet you find you can not refuse your own curiosity to try.


This is no ordinary party. This is a fae adventure!

You dont know it, but these drinks may have some...entertaining... side effects:

Red Wines: You recite Shakespeare lines in the middle of your conversations

Rose Chablis: Your hair turns vibrant pink with glints of snowy blue tips

White Wines: Every time anyone drinks red wine gravity quits working for you and you float, every time someone drinks a martini it works again, down you go!

Champagnes: You succumb to hiccups that produce beautiful blue bubbles

Beers: You think the coat rack is attractive and try to invite it back to your place

Rum Mixed Drinks: You cant help dancing with the person directly on your right

Martinis: You take off an article of clothing every time someone says "chimney"

And the array of multicolor drinks? who knows!!

(add any other effect you can dream of - have fun!!!)

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Long fingers pinched the bridge of her nose, tightly shut eyes widening open when it dawned her that she was not wearing her opaque shades, instead there was the faintest itch of the contacts that made the nearly white irises and light gray pupils an iridescent amethyst and dark gray. Not exactly normal but more passable as sighted than her natural. She didn’t know where this was, nor how she had gotten there.




Agile fingers brushed down over the fur hem of the much too short skirt. She didn’t even own a fucking dress! Let ALONE something with fur cuffs and hems! And knee high boots?? Really??


She spun a moment trying to orient herself, the noises around her seeming to betray a party of some kind, holiday music lightly playing in the background. A brush of cold air told her where the exit was and instantly the black stilettos were making their way for the door, brushing past someone that had entered.


Hand found the handle and yanked, growling under her breath as she strode out of the bar. Once over the threshold she froze. Thick painted lashes blinking as she heard the music and party once more, the hollow note of the floor beneath her heels telling her she wasn’t on the ground floor. What the hell?


The front entrance was fae tricked. People continued to enter but when one tried to leave they found themselves on the third floor deck of this unusual party.


[derrick]… oh you have got to be kidding me….[/derrick]


Grumble was half under her breath as a man bumped into her, whistling and kissing her cheek before she could react. The drunk gone as quickly as he came leaving her standing alone once more. The clink of glasses on the bar told her people were drinking, more important the smell of a decent bourbon was calling her name.


Resigned to her fate for the moment she moved to the bar, breathing deep of the array of glasses before finding the bourbon that had beckoned. Half the glass was downed before feeling a bit more relaxed, completely oblivious of the blossom of thick silver streaks that now adorned her dark mahogany locks as they trailed down her back to sway loose at her waist.


None were going to escape the night un-fae-scathed.

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Alec glanced up at the ceiling of the senselessly ornate bar. [walker] Beautiful crafstmanship.[/walker] The words were a soft mumble.


Dark brown orbs flickered as light bounced off the people around the mage and into his pupils. Alec had been dressed up for the annual ARMA Holiday party. His sweater was somehow both ugly and seasonal at the same time. The ARMA badge had been tucked away in a holder and slipped into the back pocket not occupied by his wallet. Dark denim crinkled as he stooped to re-tie the ridiculously ineffective leather strips Sperry calls laces on his topsiders.


Alec approached the bar and sat himself down, signaling to the bartender.


[npc] What can I getcha?[/npc] 


Alec looked the man dead in the eye, keeping eye contact as he talked. At the first sign of a lie, he'd squeeze it out of the man's brain.

[walker] First of all. Where the hell am I? And second of all... How did I get here? [/walker] 


Ears seemingly swiveled as boots clicked on the floor behind him. Alec let his eyes flick over for a moment to the dark haired woman. [walker] Evening, ma'am. Don't suppose you know where we are, either.[/walker]


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Alistair didn't generally like when he wound up somewhere without being entirely aware of how he had gotten there.

This was one of those times.

He didn't entirely care for it.

Alistair came down the steps, his head in a fog that was only just starting to clear. He gave it a shake to try and clear out some of the cobwebs, blinking slightly as a laughing elf took a coat that... didn't look like his. He was in white, for one - a white suit that he wanted to say was very Miami Vice, but not quite the open collar Miami style otherwise. Whatever the shirt was, it was awfully soft though... comfortable enough he supposed. Huh.

Starting to get his wits about him again, the magus glanced around the room - there were... rather a lot of fae, from the tiny pixies glittering about the room to the more human-sized elves... they all seemed to be enjoying themselves just fine, amongst the slightly more out-of-sorts humans and the like. Which perhaps was the game. He swore this had happened once before, when Adeline was still around, but that had been in the spring. It had been... mostly harmless fun, he had thought.

Who knew what the heck this was? His job had long since made him paranoid, no matter how he tried to keep his attitude light. Occasionally, it was a good idea to salve that damn paranoia with alcohol, and so he drifted toward the bar. He wound up next to a very tall woman who was growing some rather striking silver hair, surveying the drinks a moment. Huh... He had been hoping for a beer, but this was apparently a cocktail sort of party, huh? Giving a shrug, he picked up something that looked something like a gin and tonic with a sprig of greens in it, and took a sip. It wasn't bad... the flavors were kind of unidentifiable - freakin' fae liquor.

It didn't seem that strong, but there was a heavy aromatic note to it that crept up his nose, tickling as it went. Finally, trying to he polite, he set the drink back down and turned away from the bar, sneezing into the sleeve of his jacket...

... at which time his ears changed, turning into a pair of tall, snowy white rabbit ears. As usual, he wasn't the type to sneeze only once, and the second brought a rabbit tail to match, poking out through the cut in the back of the coat.

He blinked a moment, looking back up, then to the woman to his side. "Did... it just get louder in here?"

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Bourbon was finished, empty glass slammed onto the bar, finger flicking the rim to order a refill. Mind was trying to remember what the hell she had been doing before she got here.


[walker]First of all. Where the hell am I? And second of all... How did I get here?[/walker]


Seemed she wasn’t the only one suffering from selective amnesia. Liquid poured heavy into her glass, thick drop falling over her finger as she pulled it away a bit impatiently.


[walker] Evening, ma'am. Don't suppose you know where we are, either..[/walker]


Ma'am?........MA'AM?!? What the hell did she look like?? Some forty year old soccermom!? She was in a ridiculous miniskirt trimmed in fur with legs that went on forever for fucks sake! Not that she thought highly of her looks but……Christ…… she played a damn guitar! Iridescent orbs narrowed at him as the glass came up to her lips, nostrils catching the scent was different a half second before she drank. Bourbon, but it was a different brand for sure. Flavor bit, stronger than the last glass, scowling into the glass she half growled at him.


[derrick]… know 'bout as much as you do.[/derrick]


Tongue kept swiping out her lips as the nose wrinkled faintly, she had all the appearance of a puppy with peanut butter stuck on her tongue. She couldn’t shake the dry etch of the bourbon on her tongue as she stepped back, bumping into a man that had stood far too close and somehow come in under her radar. Spinning a bit too fast, she caught a fur appendage of his….hat? across her nose, eliciting a violent sneeze, her bourbon sloshing in the glass.


[derrick]…hey…keep your fur to your….[/derrick]


Second sneeze interrupted.




Fingers rubbed under her nostrils aggressively to clear the scent of animal from them as a filamentous shimmer pushed through the mahogany curtain that lay down her back. The glossed cords unfurled through the strands like butterfly breath emerging through the chrysalis, wrinkled and fragile before spreading wider into a set of two foot translucent wings, their stature ridiculously "cute" on the tall stature of the woman.


Nostrils huffed again to clear the animal scent as the sparkle of lights in the bar turned the gossamer appendages a rainbow of diamond glinted soft hues of blues, purples and pinks.

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[cassg]What in the hell?[/cassg]


It was dark and cold, and Cassandra had no idea where the hell she was. . . or how she'd come to be here. Or why she was so under-dressed given it was winter, and this was not an outfit she'd wear in winter. Plus she'd never wear such a revealing top without a tank underneath it for another layer. This was partly not her style, but partly it as well and she wasn't sure who or what was responsible. What she did know was that even with the cardigan, which was inconveniently unbuttoned though she'd just buttoned it again for the third time, and the soft, cobalt blue Italian silk scarf — that she was positive she'd shoved in a box somewhere since it'd been a gift from Him — around her neck she was freezing. An irritated frown drew down her lips at the corner yet she still kept walking toward the door of the place that called to her. Drawing the cardigan in closer, she grumbled under her breath and stepped inside the place. This gave her an immediate look at her made-up face, and done-up hair, that she didn't recall doing.


In fact, the last thing she did recall was climbing into her bed in her comfortable pajamas. How she'd gotten in them she didn't remember since the last thing she remembered before that was Alec dragging her out of a bar the night before at some ridiculously late hour. Had he put her in the pajamas? She couldn't remember, but immediately she shook her head. Alec was too much of a gentleman. But she did remember throwing up on his shoes at some point.


I'll have to apologize. . .


Her head wasn't throbbing, and she had the slightest memory a phone call about getting her ass out of bed to attend the ARMA Holiday party, but this was not an outfit she would've worn for it. It would've been more layered for winter, and Christmas-themed even if she wasn't feeling festive this year. Something weird was going on. Of course, the minute she saw all the fae signs that cleared up some stuff.


Good ol' fae mischief. What am I going to do with them?


Her blue eyes first spotted a woman she didn't know then Alec and Alistair, and she felt her face turn bright red. Those two seeing her like this was going to be embarrassing. She couldn't hold the cardigan closed all night, and the fae must've messed with the buttons to keep her from doing so. The heels of her boots clicked on the floor as she moved down the stairs.

[cassg]Alec! Ali! I see you've both been dragged into this-[/cassg]


Whatever she'd been about to say was cut off by laughter at the sight of Ali. . . and his large ears and fluffy tail. Her hold on the cardigan released with the movement of doubling over so that when she straightened up again the outfit the fae had chosen wasn't hidden any longer.


[cassg]Ali, you should uh. . . find a mirror.[/cassg]


She was still giggling a little.

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Alec's eyes flickered around the room; his ears were filled with lilting musical sounds of Fae and Elvish languages. The bartender stayed mostly silent.


[npc]Don't know. I just serve the drinks.[/npc]


Alec let out a soft chuckle. [walker] All right. Whiskey, then.[/walker] The mage turned his attention to the woman beside him. Eyes watched her as she seemed just as befuddled. Suddenly, there was the sound of a sneeze. Wait... Beneath those fluffy ears and the cottontail... the figure was vaguely recognizable. 


[walker] Wait... wait. Little Ali Foo Foo.[/walker] Alec burst into laughter. [walker] I'm sorry... I'm sorry. Ali, what the hell happened? [/walker] 


The bartender poured out the drink while Alec was laughing, and he left. Alec took a sip of the whiskey as he spotted Cass... holding her clothes closed. The woman with wings was a matter of minimal concern to him. All sorts of physical changes had emerged in the wake of the Resonance. It was when things changed on people he knew that the mage worried.


[walker]Uha... Hāya tyāṁ, kāsa. Ā getup sāthē śuṁ chē?[/walker]

(Uh... Hey there, Cass. What's with the getup?)


Alec thought the words through in his head in English, but they left his mouth in exceedingly rare circumstance--The sounds were from a language he didn't speak. 


[walker] Se etsahalang mona !? [/walker]

What's going on here!?


Alec put his hands over his mouth. He was speaking languages he didn't know... this was something shocking. Not because he wasn't speaking English, but because there were maybe ten languages the mage hadn't learned over the past years.

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The racing green coloured Aston Martin parked and leaning back into the seat of the right hand drive Trystan could only issue an annoyed groan. He’d been trying to escape this very street for the past hour, always ending up in front of the same pale stone building.

‘A vision?’ The psionic magus had considered. It would not have been the first time he struggled to differentiate the physical from the imagined. It all seemed to have something to do with this recurring structure to his right. So, determined to get to the bottom of it all he stepped out of his car and ventured toward the doors of the establishment. They were unlocked, the rhythmic sound of music emanating from within. ‘A club?’ Yes, it was indeed some kind of a night club, although oddly he’d never come across it’s likes before.

Trystan loosed a couple of buttons on his stylish pea coat, the ornate red and silver brooch of the Order upon his lapel stark against the black attire. Removing a glove his hand lightly touched one of the ornate wooden doors. Nothing. His extra-sensory perception yielded no danger and so he followed his feet up the stairs to find himself standing before a beautifully crafted bar. The wood was burnished to a high sheen, the glasses and bottles equally polished, sparkling in the dim lighting.

Next to him, a man in rather festive sweater was demanding of the bartender how he arrived in this place. He didn’t seem to have the answer, nor did the tall, statuesque woman on the other side of the ‘seasonly’ clothed man.

[npc] A complimentary drink?[/npc] Offered a fresh faced girl.

The server was very petite. Glossy auburn hair hanging to her shoulders and her sparkling green eyes were as verdurous as his own.

Trystan pulled his eyes from her elegant features to the tray she was carrying. Upon it were a spectrum of cocktails in martini glasses. He chose the pale green one that bore the distinct bouquet of apples.

[trystan]Thank you.[/trystan]

‘What was this place?’ He was about to question the server when he spied a familiar face. It was Alistair Greene. The Commander of ARMA!

Naturally he was hesitant, after all, their two factions weren’t on the best of terms. Water under the bridge as far as Trystan was concerned but many magus didn’t share his sentiments. He ventured to think that the pale eyed leader of the fractured group was no different but it was the Christmas season after all.

Taking a few sips of his drink Trystan meandered his way toward the commander. The closer he got, the lighter his steps became, but the sensation had nothing to do with nervousness and everything to do with the fact that he was floating!

Trystan couldn’t believe it. He was hovering over the floor. He was flying!

Incredible! He was completely weightless. Putting a toe to a nearby wall, he lightly pushed himself toward Alistair, sipping his drink as he glided through the air. Of course everyone else but Trystan saw the truth. That he wasn’t flying at all.

With his arms extended like a bird, Trystan lightly pranced, in slow motion, across the floor toward the ‘Bunny Commander’.

[trystan]My word![/trystan] He exclaimed at Alistair’s transformation, [trystan]What’s up Doc? Oh! I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said that.[/trystan]

His head was spinning. It was becoming difficult to maintain a straight face. Especially staring into the face of a six foot bunny! The ‘seasonally dressed’ guy was speaking in a strange tongue; the taller woman sprouted wings! It was all Trystan could do to not burst out into laughter.

But this was no laughing matter! Wasn’t it?

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Giggling….. giggling seemed to skip off the walls and attack her from all angles.


What sweet hell was this?


As the man near her spun around at the sound of the new woman's voice, she was whopped in the face once more with a furry appendage. Growl bubbled up in her chest only to find another glass in her hand. She didn’t remember picking up another glass.


Distracted, nostrils sniffed at the opening as she stepped away from the giant offending rabbit. Brandy, a decent one from the rich scent. Chin lifted as the woman seemed to address the bunny, her suggestion he look in a mirror seemed to imply something was off. The man at the bar mentioning "Little Ali Foo Foo" seemed to confirm the woman's assessment that this was not normal as the comment tugged at an old memory about a rabbit. Something was very off but she couldn’t put her finger on it. But as the man began speaking jibberish she knew it was time to leave.


Slamming back the brandy she thunked the glass on the bar and stepped back, wobbling a bit in the ridiculous stiletto boots she would never be caught dead in as she ran right into some ninny prancing slowly towards them.


[derrick]…hey!... watch where you are….[/derrick]


Hiccup billowed up in her chest just as her boot tripped over a prancing foot to send her falling backwards. Silly fur-lined skirt billowed up to leave her landing hard on a set of lavender lace panties on the floor as the second hiccup parted her lips with a translucent eruption of small teal bubbles.


False iridescent orbs blinked, thickly painted lashes blinking slowly before the scowl rammed downward on her brow.


[derrick]..WHAT… THE… FUCK?![/derrick]


Between every word the hiccup billowed another flutter of bubbles from lips she never would have painted the luscious plum that frowned at the whole bar.



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This didn't appear to be any ordinary evening and instead of finding herself walking back to her apartment she instead began wandering the streets until she found herself in a cloud of confusion. Her feet stopped in front of the three story club and she shook her head slightly, wondering what the hell could be going on.


Is this some spirit leading me somewhere?


She looks up at the building and then finds herself walking in without being able to stop herself, but does she really want to stop herself. The door opens and she realizes that there must be a party going on. That fact somewhat makes sense to her since it is around the holidays and people are celebrating. She remembers when she use to celebrate Christmas or even the New Year with her family, but those were distant memories that had somewhat faded with time.


It didn't take her long to find herself being pulled toward the bar. At first she found that it was slightly a weird feeling, but then realized that maybe her subconscious was telling her that she was thirsty. Her eyes glided over the room and noticed quite a few things that were out of the norm. A man that seemed to be speaking some kind of language that she didn't know, another man that was now floating in the air. She giggled softly and turned back to notice a sign of what drinks they had. She looked them over carefully and decided on something that she'd never tried before. [aingeal]Can I get a Rose Chablis please?[/aingeal]


After asking for a drink her head turned to see a woman that had tripped and appeared to have hiccuped up some very pretty bubbles. Another giggle found its way from Aingeal's lips. She turned back to the bar and picked up the drink that had been placed in front of her. She took a long drink and smiled after licking her lips. The flavor was something that was new and different to her. A soft 'mmm' sound comes from her lips and she takes another drink. She puts the drink down and looks up at the mirror that was behind the bar. All at once her mouth dropped as she noticed her hair beginning to change. 


Her right hand goes up to touch her hair softly, wondering if it was a dream or maybe a hallucination that she was having. At the touch of her soft hair she realizes that it is in fact not a dream and is most certainly real. [aingeal]Oh man...[/aingeal]

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Somehow a drink ended up in her hand, one that Cassandra definitely didn't order considering she was busy laughing at her brother's condition and. . . Alec's too apparently as the man was speaking in odd tongues. And around her others were experiencing even more. More than half her glass was already gone too. A glance toward Alec, and she shook her head.


[cassg]Alec, what. . . You're not making any s- What's done cannot be undone.[/cassg] Blinking a couple times, she tried again, [cassg]You're speaking a different language.[/cassg]


She turned her attention now to watch bubbles floating up into the air from a pretty lady nearby, and took note of the other guests. One she recognized was Order, naturally he earned a suspicious glance from her blue eyes, and the other was a woman that she didn't recognize at all. She was still feeling a little open to prying eyes, even with her one hand constantly yanking her coat closed, but she looked back at the Order fellow.


[cassg]Fancy seeing you- By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.[/cassg] Shaking her head, Cassandra frowned.


That was oddly appropriate, but while she loved Shakespeare it wasn't like her to just randomly spout quotes from the plays especially Macbeth. This must be a side effect of the Fae magic and the drink except she couldn't seem to stop. In fact, another glass had replaced the previous one. . . no wait, did the glass just refill? She didn't know. It was all happening quickly.


She glanced again to Alec, lifting a brow and gestured to the glass in her hand — jacket opening again. Groaning she gave up trying to hold it closed and hoped that she could sink into the floor.

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Alec grumbled quietly as he shook his head. He stammered out a few other phrases, most of which he started to recognize as curses in languages he couldn't quite understand. Eventually, it seemed that the drink had run out of modern languages with which he could confound his fellow drinkers. When Alec realized he was speaking Latin, he couldn't resist the chance to just screw with people a little more.


[walker] quis custodiet ipsos custodes?[/walker] The mage found himself wishing Wes were here to get that reference, though he wouldn't put it past Cass to recognize a Watchmen joke when she heard one. Granted, Cass seemed to be having some linguistic troubles of her own.


[walker]Immo omnia denique. Videtur sum Latine[/walker] Alec said with a smile. 

((Everything is fine. It would seem I'm speaking Latin))


He turned back to the bartender. [walker] Secundus. Vodka Martini [/walker] He said, a little more commanding than expected. Latin was, however, the language of empire, so it made sense...and at least proper nouns didn't get translated.


At Cass' second outburst of Shakespearean english, Alec turned to face the flying son of a bitch with the Order, very nearly punching the man for just existing. Alec still held a grudge.


[walker]Quid hic agis , verbero?[/walker]

((What are you doing here, scoundrel?)) 


Deep laughter sounded from within the bearded man's throat, if only because Latin had no word for "soulless asswipe," and had censored him rather handily.

[walker] Forsan habes quod dicimus. Sine ulla causa.[/walker]

((Perhaps you are here, same as we. Without any clue why))


The drink slid across the bar to him, and Alec took a long sip, keeping eye contact with the flying mage.

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