Lights suddenly extinguish at the ball. The momentary hush of musicians. And as the light returns, there is a man dressed in blues at the very center of it all, hanging by his legs from the chandelier with a delightful laugh as he drew their attention.
"Your humble jester has arrived~"
A single clap followed by Aster dropping down from his elaborate perch, and bursts of confetti and firecrackers burst throughout the ballroom. He only snickered as some of the stage musicians now sported blue clown makeup and masks while their instruments belted out notes of fire outwards into the open room.
From:
🌹 All Hallow's Eve Ball 🌹
And it was then that fate played a most dubious hand, that it struck so suddenly and soundly - like an unseen dodge ball at an echoing gymnasium.
Effeminate and entirely out of his control, a small shriek escaped the violinist as his beloved instrument leapt out of his possession onto the stage, frantically shaking the fire from his fingers and bow. The guitarist, though far more collected, was quick to smother the flames with his overcoat, the drumming newt following suit by grabbing his overcoat as well, slinging it with a force so panicked and wild that the fire nearly grew from the draft of her swing. All of this, done with misplaced masks and harlequin face and facade, firecracker sparks and spouts of confetti reveling in their misfortune.
Oh, it was a disaster!
A hell of a performance, if she ever did see one, though!
Was she the only one who clapped? Likely.
The sheer magnitude of her applause was enough to compensate, however. A loud "WOOO" barreling out as her hands continued slapping together with the gusto of a toddler riding a sugar high.
"Holy shit, this party rocks."
Neighboring attendees eyed her with a mixture of feelings - far more predictable than her own, given the situation - including the serpent that circled her neck. Ever languid and listless, his predatory eyes took in the spectacle like a tired parent to accompany this wild child of his.
"What is that," he grumbled.
"Is one clown not enough?"
Never mind whatever answer could have awaited Sven, for away they went, Natty all too ready to introduce herself. A hiss of disdain followed after him as he retreated into the two-toned waves blanketing her back.
"Welcome, welcome.~"
Giddily, the newcomer was, well, welcomed, bits of confetti floundering from the woman's arms as she swung them out. Such an exciting new face! Literally, look at that makeup, girl, you know that took a hot minute to do. And the hair? The 'fit? Hello? How no one else was stepping up to greet the guy was totally beyond her. Rude!
"Sick duds. Here to have a ball?~"
Even in hiding, she could feel how deeply and devastatingly her snaky little friend cringed in response.
It was then that, in a manner that was perhaps entirely too invasive for most, Nat leaned in for a good sniff. A really good sniff. A hum of satisfaction melted across the ruffles at the jester's collar before she retreated, mischievous hands crawling up his front where they remained even after her... assessment.
"Hot damn. You smell like a bakery."
She crooned, seemingly bewitched.
"I could just eat you up.~ Haha! You got it all goin' on, my guy."
Sven knew not what was yet to transpire, however, he could already divine that he was simply too old for this. As always.
Before all but entirely checking out of the conversation himself, however, a miniature forked tongue began to flicker, tasting the air with quizzical intrigue. Eventually, a tiny, scaled snout reared itself once more from its hairy nest, following after the splendiferous "bakery" scent Nat had so eloquently pointed out.
Indeed, the distinct fragrance of something sweet met his snaky little senses as well... or had, even before Nat had pointed it out; alas, it was only after they had drawn closer to the other clown that he began to pick up on the finer details...
This...
This was much, much more than the aroma of any tasty treat to be found on a baker's rack...
His serpentine pupils began to dilate.
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