#boundlesschaos

Across the theater, there is laughter that arises whenever the characters make a funny quip. Some of it is met with more of a chuckle than others - but one person in the crowd hasn't laughed at all. She's focused. Almost a little too focused, as she watches the performance go on...

And then, when the shows calls for an intermission, she glances over to the person seated next to her. "When....is the cue to speak up?" She asks. To laugh? It's an odd question, but she seems genuine about it.

Forsyth has a sense of humor, unlike what some people may think. He laughs strongly and freely when it strikes him, and it has struck him several times over this comedic moving picture! It's just...not quite his scene, perhaps. The dialogue feels inauthentic, and the laughter from the crowd synchronizing with laughter in the reproduction does not help matters.

He is weighing whether to leave early or stick it out when the woman sitting next to him poses aloud a question he's been pondering. That elicits a chuckle from him, the most genuine since he took his seat.

"I've wondered that myself, my friend." Forsyth may not have an easy answer for her, but it seems fate has brought two kindred spirits in this together. "I believe we are supposed to recognize the jokes as they happen. They sometimes provide us with laughter within the replicated soundscape, which I believe is meant to prompt a similar reaction?"

The person seated to the right of Forsyth looks at him like he has two heads before getting up to refill their aerated corn, but Forsyth pays them no heed. Finally, there's someone who gets it.

[ SNEAK ] - The Goddess Tower was a no-go before, but with flashy distractions at a high and visibility at a low, now is a better opportunity than you will get the rest of the night. The monastery staff have promised a very unforgiving punishment for those caught in forbidden grounds, but that only goes for those caught, right?

It's a time of mystery and wonder. Moving pictures brought to life through a magic equally wonderful and curious, hosted in rooms along a hallway lit a soft blue. Niamh would have her time to see how this magic works, but now, while so many had taken their seats?

There were other places to explore, first.

She knows of the tower, how it had been given far more security to keep the attendees out. They say that it's to prevent couples from sneaking up there to do who-knows-what, but Niamh believes there has to be a deeper meaning behind it.

So, as the lights dim, and the curtains are drawn, she uses the darkness to creep towards the stairs. She keeps her footsteps light and fleeting, a phantom that wanders in the dark...

That spots another in the limited lighting.

No words are exchanged, yet when her eyes meet the person before her, they say all that they need to.

Are you heading up there, too?

Nanna had not meant to be caught.

The ballroom’s glow had long faded behind her into softened blue haze, swallowed by corridors left dim beneath the evening’s distractions. Somewhere far below, laughter still drifted through the monastery like lantern smoke, but up here the air felt hushed—held still beneath the weight of secrecy.

A staircase forbidden often became irresistible by virtue of the word alone. Some rumored it to grant a wish. Others rumored it to bind lovers together forever.

Her heels scarcely made a sound against the stone as she ascended toward the tower, one careful hand gathered lightly at her skirts to keep the fabric from whispering too loudly in the dark. Then—

Movement.

Nanna stilled immediately.

Moonlight spilled faintly across another figure standing several steps below the landing, silvering familiar features into something almost ghostlike. Recognition came first in the eyes.

Niamh.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Nanna’s gaze flicked upward toward the tower doors, then back to her old friend. The silence between them folded naturally into understanding, into the sort of companionship that did not need to be announced aloud to exist.

A small breath escaped her—not quite laughter, but close. Her smile softened as her vision adjusted to the dark. Wordlessly, her hand slid up to rest an orchid in Niamh's hair.

[ CORN ] A new strain of corn has been bred in Bergliez with a curious trait—it pops when exposed to heat, becoming light and fluffy! Help yourself to a bag; it’s a little bland on its own, but you get the feeling you could find something to spice it up.

"The way the shape changes is so fascinating, no matter how many times I see it happen."

Kurt rolls an unpopped kernel around in the palm of his hand. The kernel is hard, round, and a light golden; a far cry from the fluffy and white final product. If he concentrates just the tiniest bit of fire magic to his fingers, then—

—POP!

The kernel pops up into the air and when it lands back in his palm, it has bloomed like a flower.

"I can't help but think they look like tiny flowers." Kurt pulls a white rose from his bouquet as a point of comparison. "It looks a bit like a tiny rose, don't you think? Haha, maybe a little misshapen, but it's that subtle variation I find so interesting."

Mark probably needed to pace himself with the snacks. He desperately wanted to try all of them, but he knew his eyes were bigger than his stomach. He had never been much of a big eater. Stuffing his face too quickly would mean he didn't have room to sample everything he'd like to, and that would be a tragedy with so much on offer. Even something as small as these little sweet buns would probably be better off cut in half, just enough to sample them without taking up too much room. It would be a shame to just waste the other half, though...

Oh, there was someone else at the snack table, and she was clearly eyeing the sweet buns as well. How convenient. She certainly made herself easy to notice with that stunning outfit of hers. Black and white was a simple and classic color scheme, but it was an effective one; the contrast of light and dark made for an excellent visual. That mask of hers gave her an air of mystique, of intrigue. Whoever she was, she definitely knew how to make an appearance. Hopefully she wasn't too cool for someone like Mark to bother.

"But there could be other mysteries out there, too..."

Like treasure, maybe. But eyes tell that maybe that's not all she thinks about, too.

As she finally managed to leave the main avenue, Minerva found herself in a very relaxing place, all that walking actually did her some good: a very small and distinctive cabana was located not so farm from the main area of the ball, but that was where Minerva finally found some peace… and a friend too.

“Fishes, for sure” she paused, listening to her, while picking the glass of wine that rested on a small table beside her chair, “But like you said, I’m sure there are other mysterious objects too, down in the abyss” she sipped from her glass, her gaze was fixated on the horizon: it was evening by now, the sun was almost set, but the shore shone beautifully like some precious treasures rich of gold and gems.

“Maybe our charms come from there?” she shifted back her gaze, staring at the starfish décor that Niamh owned. “And maybe there are more”

And more recently, she was provided tea and treats for her birthday - testing the combinations had been fruitful. But, perhaps more than that, she noticed another factor that was key to having enjoyable tea.

So, when she finds a set of pastries to try, and notices the array of teas being offered, Niamh surveys the room. Through the sea of faces, one in particular stands out - one she recalls meeting not so long ago.

"You're here too..." Niamh softly voices, showing the tray of treats to Elise. "Would you like to try these? There's lots of tea to pick from, too..."

The other person is immediately recognizable to her, despite the brief nature of their initial meeting. The mask probably helps in that. Ironic, considering the nature of the ball.

Though if the point of a masquerade is to hide one’s identity for the night, wouldn’t it be more effective if she didn’t wear a mask? Would it even count if she hadn’t worn a mask?? Could she layer masks???

Eh, it’s not that important. Especially if there are sweets present. That takes priority.

“Niamh! Niamh, right? Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you again! Your dress is so pretty!” Elise takes a moment to look over the other’s outfit before acknowledging the tray or the offer of its contents, as is polite. She wouldn’t want Niamh to think that she’s only in the conversation for food, after all! Their friendship is just as important, even if it hasn’t existed for long! No, more important! It goes masks < sweets < friendship. As it should.

She makes sure to gasp as if she’s just seen the tray before reaching for a bun. Because she has not been eyeing it. She is a mature and polite adult. She would never. “Really? Thank you, hehe!”

She tries to take a small bite, but as soon as the sweetness hits one ‘small bite’ turns to two ‘small bites’, resulting in a less-than-refined princess talking with her mouth full. “Mmm! It’s so good! Niamh, have you tried this?!” It is good. Too good. A gift this great deserves a gift back… but all she has is the weird bell thing from when she got here…

So, when she spots Reyson, someone who can a) lift it (?) and b) provide a better location to hang the small, leafy wealth that Niamh has decided to be Hers, she makes no effort to waste time making small talk. "…you should hang this up…" Very convincing.

reyson has spent most of the evening delighting at the decorations present. despite the fact that the hall has been well-decorated already, there seem to be some missing spaces.

he does not really notice a few gaps here and there, at least not without prompting. he's approached by someone he's not met before, a young lady in a rather curious mask, and takes the wreath from her hands with the utmost care.

while ordinarily he would dislike being told what to do without so much as a how are you first, but he suspects she has no ill intentions, only the apparent wish to aid their hosts in last-minute decorating.

"as you wish."

"Oh, uhm." Niamh catches the glance from the stranger, and her brow furrows as she takes in the situation once more. She had ventured to this location seeking the source of a curious aroma, but now that she found it? If she had to be honest...

"...I would appreciate the company." She confirms with a nod. "Does that mean...you're versed in this? I've been having trouble deciding..." Though it was difficult to admit directly, Niamh wasn't especially versed in handling tea. So, to have someone who appeared to be an expert... "Could you provide a recommendation?" With a glint present in Niamh's eyes, it was clear Céline had the girl's full attention.

"I know much about tea. Its taste can be altered in many ways— The way it is brewed, the blend itself.. Even the space where you are having the tea!" Céline is pleased to offer her aid in any ways she can, including choosing the perfect tea. While she is new to Fódlan, the helpings in front of her hold a familiar aura.

Eyeing the options at her disposal, it appears Fódlan has become well-equipped and prepared for all palettes. There are many to choose from, but she finds it imperative to choose a cup that would be enjoyed by both herself and her dining companion. She doesn't know what flavors are liked or disliked, surmising it best to choose one that is both enjoyable and provides something beneficial all-around. "What would you say if I proposed an apple blend tea? It offers much in ways of the body and soul."