the cake is a lie - mask vigil afterparty

[fulzanin]

WE'LL MAKE A WAY WHERE YOU CAN FIND YOUR PLACE
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Sometimes Feza really, really felt like she'd done a good job on a party. Times like her first kazoo class, the ice slip game, and the snowball fight were all festivities that she felt as if she'd done great with. The first kazoo class, despite how proud she was of the set up, had ended in a vast failure. The ice slip game had a one-person turn out, so it was also a failure. The snowball fight? At that point she'd about given up and thrown in the towel when only one person had, again, showed up. Same person. Same lion. She wondered if her parties were becoming stale. That certainly couldn't be the case. She strove to make every party it's own blaze of grandeur. They were all unique and fun and festive and worthy of the cardboard box gods.

Feza, the guardsman, the resident party thrower of Tanglewood, had been tasked to host a Mask Vigil afterparty. An afterparty had briefly confused her, but she'd quickly sorted it out and figured out that it was basically the same as a regular party. Instead of preceding an event, though, it came after - and Feza only then realized why the 'after' was attached to the name as she carefully nudged another candle into a position she deemed satisfactory. It was nearing midnight. Her mind was horrifically torn on hosting this at midnight. Her first party had been hosted at midnight and it had led to her getting told off. She'd put off thinking about ideas for this party ever since that incident came to mind. It had caused for clenched teeth and rigid body posture. Feza ignored it now. She'd find the time to banish it permanently later. The candles were nice, they lit up the tavern in a way that some could deem quite spooky. Feza, personally, thought it was nice and dim.

Food, really, was most of what consisted of the set up. No random side activities, for Feza knew that this was an official party. The cardboard box gods had not approved it. She simply was not allowed to throw her own spin onto things. By the books it would be, much to Feza's distaste. She'd managed to cook, and her lovely caterpillar taste testers had certainly given her constructive feedback. They were all back home now. Feza wished they could have attended. She'd throw them their own party later. There was, of course, cupcakes and other pastries that were covered with layers of vibrant frosting so thick that it was questionable how the pastry beneath was managing to support it all. There was some meats, some fruits, but the vast majority were awkward pastries. She stepped back, looking over her work. It was nice. She liked it, even if it wouldn't put her in the favor of her gods. Her feathered wings flapped and she launched herself back to the doorway. "The party- the mask vigil afterparty is starting!" Feza shouts, "there's food, there's music, and we've got some killer lighting too! Come show off your, your brand new mask if you earned one!" Sure, with her tone deaf nature Feza couldn't actually hear the music. She understood it was playing, though. It would be festive, Feza assures herself as she plasters a smile for the first ones to arrive.

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THE EMPTY CHAIRS WILL BE RESERVED FOR OUR PITY

[beck.]

[align=center]

    Now this was a new addition to tradition. But not necessarily one the former commander could enjoy. He couldn't exactly say he was a fan of parties. Too loud, too crowded, too social. As the polar opposite, Beck was too quiet, too hostile, too... depressing. A sullen little poltergeist didn't belong anywhere near a party.

    Bandaged paws shuffled near the outskirts of those entering, mud sullying the floorboards of the tavern pitched in his absence. Beck clung to the corner, a weed of a wallflower, sprouting from a rotten crevice and slithering up along the sill plate. The little dark-furred cat could be easily lost within the dimly-lit crowd, disappearing against woodworks without surrendering his visible apparition at all. The first mask of Tanglewood dangled limply from his neck, bleached and painted bone stark compared to the shadowed auburn of his shallow chest, fractured collarbone jutting from under skin as he hunched warily.

    Unsure of himself, pearly claws picked at the staining blood on his mask's devilish horns, horn once impaling the notorious ardent's ribs. A miserable trophy, reminding him of the caverns and the bloodshed. His thoughts strayed, gloom darkening freckled features despite the candlelight reflecting gold off his gaze.

    Mangy ears perked as Feza's singsongy words instructed the festivities to commence. The mention of food brought his gluttonous appetite to rear its ugly head, a strand of drool escaping the mutilated side of his mouth, beads plummeting to a halt between his paws. Hastily licking his exposed gums, teeth, and scarred tissue to recover any saliva seeking to leak, Beck wobbled to stand, rocking his weight while debating whether or not to brave the tide of party-goers for a treat or continue sulking by his lonesome.

[wormwood.]

☆ HUNG PICTURES OF PATRON SAINTS UP ON MY WALL TO REMIND ME THAT I AM A FOOL. TELL ME WHERE I CAME FROM, WHAT I WILL ALWAYS BE: JUST A SPOILED LITTLE KID WHO WENT TO CATHOLIC SCHOOL —

The mask vigil had certainly been... interesting, to say the least. It hadn't been all that difficult to hang on to his sash, considering he had the benefits of his night vision and superior muscle on his side, but Leroy had put up a good fight, and there had been a couple of times where Aurum had been sweating. Not so much because he yearned for the mask, but because he yearned for the respect that it represented. After all, what kind of proxy would he be if he didn't even have a mask? Thankfully, Aurum had managed to fight off Leroy's assault and had gotten through the night without losing his sash, leading to him being one of the many that had finally earned their masks after many months of being within the group. The decision on what kind of mask to have had been easy, since it was one that covered the top half of his face and had two large golden wings going back off of it. It was very clearly angel, and he found that he liked it quite a lot, even if it was relatively simple with the white and gold coloration. Immediately after he had finally acquired the face covering, Aurum had trudged his way back to his home, practically collapsing within his bed as soon as it was within reach. Normally staying up through the night didn't exhaust him so much, but the activities within the graveyard had been strenuous, especially with Leroy leaping at him, so he was eager to catch up on the hours of rest that he had lost.

Many hours had passed after that, with Aurum only rising temporarily in order to eat something so that he didn't starve. The proxy had finally ended up waking up for good just as the sun had begun to go down, emerging from his home and giving his legs a much needed stretch. He had greeted a few of his fellow tanglers, cleaned up some stuff around his home, and done a few of his needed tasks, when the sound of Feza's shrill and excited voice reached his ears, not only alerting him of the party, but also of how late it was. The lion looked up at the dark sky and the sparkling stars for a moment before he chuckled, heading back towards his home and grabbing his new mask carefully before he descended the steps, heading towards the tavern. He hadn't been aware an afterparty was going to be held, or else he probably would've spent a little less time sleeping, but at least it didn't seem as though Feza had destroyed the tavern in his absence. Although surprisingly, it seemed as though this event was rather subdued, at least for what he had come to expect from Feza. When he arrived at the tavern and found that it wasn't absolutely covered in brightly colored lights and glitter, he wondered if perhaps they had another tavern that he didn't know about the snow leopard could've been referring to. Not that he minded. After all, he was still a little groggy, and an excitable party with dancing and bright lights probably would've just driven him away.

Taking a moment to pause near the tavern, Aurum sat down and put on his mask, brushing back the feather pattern over his ears and letting it sit comfortably on his face before he continued. He noticed Beck nearby, the spirit clearly trying to decide whether or not he wanted to participate, and ignored his presence, figuring that was the best thing he could do. Beck didn't want him coming over and trying to encourage him, that Aurum was sure of. He'd leave that job to Selby, or maybe Moth. Instead, the angel focused his attentions on Feza, trotting slowly over to where the party goddess was sitting, a grin plastered almost forcibly onto her face. He rumbled warmly, reaching up to teasing pat the snow leopard between the ears, "Hey, Feza. Nice job setting up this party. It's... calm. I like it." He knew Feza to be one to absolutely soak up any and all praise about others' happiness that she could get, so he figured that he would contribute.

[div style="text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 0px 0px 2px #722227; font-size: 24px;"][color=#c16f78]— AURUM

#psychosocial.

[toboggan]

The results that ensued the mask vigil left Leroy both appeased and soured. For one, most of the unmasked individuals involved had kept their sash throughout the entire night, earning their masks and cementing themselves as true blooded Tanglers. The mask was a pivotal aspect of the tribe's culture, and seeing such a copious number of his comrades rejoice in their victories ultimately enlivened the general. On the other hand, the high percentage of triumphant participants beckoned the canine to realize just how majorly he fucked up. Since so many masks had been earned that night, future vigils would be incredibly mismatched and difficult for newer partakers.

Oh well.

Best to live in the moment and not bellyache about the future. For all he knew, drastic change could come at any given moment.

The wolfhound's mask wasn't glorious, which was somehow a colossal contrast in regards to the rest of the tribe. His comrades were as reckless as racecars, but somehow they had the fashion senses of wealthy Italian models. The mask he wore was a simple ski mask, or balaclava, one comprised of somewhat fuzzy black wool. It felt comfortable on his odd-shaped mug, for it could stretch quite a fair bit; the mouth hole in particular had been expanded to a hefty degree so that his maw could fit through, which made sense considering that this mask had been created for human use.

The general had already been present upon Beck and Aurum's arrivals, though he slunk away from the slowly materializing mass of attendees. No, he'd introduce himself at a later time. He had actually prepared a speech for this specific occasion, though his memory could only recall the first two lines. Winging it was one of his natural talents, however, and he'd put it to good use when he had to. But, for now, he acquainted himself with a certain bourbon and began to get his drink on.

[fulzanin]

WE'LL MAKE A WAY WHERE YOU CAN FIND YOUR PLACE
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When it came to 'official' levels of parties, Feza wasn't quite sure what was expected of her. She'd attempted to keep it simple and without too much flair and dramatic investment. After all, it was supposed to be a gathering for everyone. If she did something festive that wasn't liked? It would absolutely ruin the whole point if someone was deterred. It seemed as if her attempts to keep everything simple was still a little deterring, her icy gaze catching sight of the first that she actually noted to arrive. She wondered if she should invite him to sit beside her, as a good friend would, or if having to deal with all the interaction would be less than pleasant. Her head tips to the side and she presents him a smile anyways. She is, after all, the group's best party thrower. Self assigned, self insured by her dutiful tasks and the requirements of her gods. She hoped the smile conveyed what she sought to wordless say, or at least to continue to provide a welcoming air.

Next was Aurum, for once not the first to arrive. It certainly surprised the Guardsman, her tail curling a little. It had taken time for her to grow used to the other not being in his lion body. It helped ease some of her nerves that remained despite her long strides in getting over her near irrational fear of lions. Feza's ice gaze lifted, tail wraggling behind her like an uncontrolled worm. Her eyes crossed as the other's paw lifted and patted her on the head. Her mind immediately sank to a brief sputter of being considered childish. Small ears flattened when the other then spoke. Calm? He liked it because it was calm. Because it was not what she was used to, because it was different. It was normal. Condescending did she take it rather than praise. She'd had it coming, Feza supposed. Nobody would have come if she did it her way. Feza pulled her head away from the touch, sharply blinking her eyes to remove any formation of tears. It wasn't any use to be upset at the time.

Her shoulders tense, and in return her wings tuck tighter to herself. "I'm glad you like it," Feza replied with a smile. She shifts, the movements of her tail briefly slowing before returning to the rapid lashing. "Maybe I should get a feedback box, so I can... I can just, y'know. Make all my parties just as good! Yea!" Her ears wriggle a little, paw then raising to gesture inside. "I think, uh, Leroy? Yea, he's inside already." A wing extends, aiding the gesture. Feza didn't quite see all the fun in just hanging out with no activities to do, but apparently such seemed to be the case. Oh well. She always had the time during the party to set such up. Later. There were still people to welcome, after all. Far more important matters always came first.

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THE EMPTY CHAIRS WILL BE RESERVED FOR OUR PITY