#vampirechroniclesmasquerade

Claudia shifted about the all room as she gazed at the others around her curiously. She remembered the last ball and was curious to see how this one would go.

Who was here? How were things going to go? 

She shifted to one of the far walls like she had the last time and studied the scene in front of her. She told herself she wasn't going to approach this how she had last time but we shall see.

She spotted the usual people. Armand, Danial, and of course a few other faces. There were even others she hadn't seen before and this brought a light smirk onto her lips. She was planing on having fun and she wasn't going to have it any other was.

Always one to make a killer entrance, tonight Lestat left his porsche in the garage  and instead  broke out his brand new Harley-Davidson. Louis hemmed and hawed about it, of course. 'Its a formal occasion, Lestat' 'You are going to make us look like fools in front of all of our friends, Lestat." "Blah, blah, blah, Lestat" If they were going to appear before so many immortals they were  going to make a scene, god damnit!

And so they raced the short distance it was from their flat to the party venue, which turned out to be the  sublime mansion just off of Bourbon Street Lestat often admired, blowing through every stoplight with his characteristic give-em'-hell antics, and skidded to a halt in the sweeping driveway of the mansion.

He took off his helmet and shook his golden mane about his face. He then threw the keys to the valet, "Go easy on her." He chuckled, slipping on his antique gilded mask with the upraised  patterns  and offering an arm to Louis.

“I don’t like this, Miss A. I wish you would let me come with you.”

The woman smiles to herself as she watches the glittering city slip past the window of their sleek rental car. Bless her human family, they worry so about her and do not take well to change in her schedule. This journey from London to New Orleans counts as the biggest change to date. “I know, petit,” she murmurs for perhaps the hundredth time, “but I told you; I do not know my host, nor do I know the guests. I would be foolish indeed to risk your safety when I cannot guarantee it.”

“Still don’t like it.” The car glides to a stop at the curb. Her driver turns to scowl at her over the seat. “What if the Big D is there?”

“It’s been ages since my turning, Michael, I will not be fussed if you call Dracula by name now.”

Michael gets out to open her door. “S’not what you said when I was ten. Fine. But listen, if you do run into any trouble promise to call me, yeah? Da would beat my arse if I let anything happen to you.”

She gives him her hand and allows him to assist her to the sidewalk. Brown eyes laced with gold glint at him from behind the delicate filigree of her mask. “Ma petit cher, do I look like someone who will need rescue from trouble?”

“You’re too confident by half, you know that.” He extracts the invitation from his coat pocket and puts it into her gloved hand. “Have a reasonable amount of fun, then.”

Tapping one corner of the heavy card stock against her ruby lips, she watchs her personal assistance drive off. A reasonable amount of fun. Yes, that might very well be possible. In fact one might say anything is possible with this crowd.

Gabrielle has no idea what to wear to this shindig tonight and is going to be terribly late. Hopefully this will offend at least a few people. 

I'll have you know this mask is a relic. I've owned it since I plucked it from a victim at such an event as this  in the early  1780's as a joke to Claudia.