Welcome to Gaia! ::

Shaitan had found his way into the party, and was languishing on a velvet chair, his fiery eyes peering thru his ornate demon mask. The Baali antediluvian was dressed in a black suit, with little slits placed strategically for his numerous spike to poke thru. There was a distinct look of boredom on the visible half of his face, his hand toying with the ice in his glass. His eyes lazily wandered the room as he sipped his cinnamon whiskey, drifting over Kynthia. He watched the younger Baali as she lurked among the shadows with an amused smirk, and once her gaze passed by his direction, he gestured an invitation to the seat beside him, if the younger Childe would take interest in a conversation. His tail flickered lightly at his feet; would this young vampire even recognize him for what he was, or simply think him some new Baali brute? He couldn't help but wonder, as he had only awakened from his tomb recently after centuries of slumber.

Koroleva could hardly contain her excitement. She had been looking forward to this event since she woke from her long slumber. There was no better place to gather information than the Toreador’s New Years parties. Plus thanks to the rules for this year's event she could even enjoy herself without constant eyes watching her because of her status. No, they would be watching the Mekhet Disciple for an entirely different reason tonight.

Her amber eyes almost glowing behind the silver and pearl mask that adorned her face. Her hair left loose and flowing behind her as she glided through the hallways. The black and gold dress she wore flowing around her and leaving little to the imagination. The shadows seemed to curl around her ankles, a constant reminder of the power hidden behind her elegant appearance.

She kept a pleasant smile on her face as she listened in on the conversations around her as she moved through the manor. Her head tilted to the side as she debated on which wing to venture forth into first. The possibilities were endless for the often reserved Disciple to have a little bit of fun. To let loose and enjoy existing.

Another year passed, and another page of the calendar turned, though time meant little to the immortal ilk that graced this world and less still to the Deities that presided over it all. Still, Grendel was no ordinary God, but one who chose to live and roam amongst his followers, strengthening his connection with them even while his divine powers weakened. It was an unfortunate side-effect of his willing separation from the realm beyond, where all other deities resided. As is the case with all choices, his choices had consequences even the most powerful could not avoid. His own curse, of a sort, though he would hardly call it as such. A fair trade instead, to feel happiness and fulfillment at the expense of a few rudimentary perks. Besides, as power failed him in some respects, it grew in others, a testament to his hard work over these past few months. He had been blessed with all the immortal disciplines of his people, and the stronger they grew, it seemed, so did he.

The invitation came as it had times before, expected and yet all too soon. It was barely a question of whether they would go. Grendel knew this was, as it had always been, an opportunity to see a significant portion of his vampires, especially those most ancient, gathered in one place, his Disciples hopefully amongst them. He was curious to see how they fared this past year and to perhaps bestow amongst them a gift or two, depending on how magnanimous he was feeling. Apparently, it was to be a masquerade, a concept he was not wholly acquainted with, though in theory, he understood what it required…even if he did not quite see the point.

Arriving in style had never been his thing, though some of particular tastes might argue differently. How he arrived was often with an electrifying jolt that hummed through the air, with a sudden scent of ancient power, thick, rich blood, and heady red wine. Shadows seemed to pull toward him from every direction for an instant, reaching across the floors from every darkened crevice as he flickered into view, his love by his side, an arm curled around him almost possessively. A sudden, oppressive heaviness hung in that space while a prickling sensation would run up along the spine of those most attuned to divinity.

Bedecked in an outfit unlike any he typically wore, the God of Vampires stood with a mask adorning half his face. It was pointless, really, that bit of delicate and elaborate frivolity that rested upon his features as though it could hide who he truly was. There was no hiding the intensity of his burning rubied gaze etched in kohl or the potently dark energy that rolled off him in endless waves. He was unmistakably the son of Caine and Lilith. The young Deity who had fought and clawed his way to his current position. Who had buried his Father beneath rubble and ash. Who had helped to free his Mother, who in turn had helped free him, had helped make him who he was now.

His button down shirt was open to where it met his waistcoat, his many obsidian necklaces spilling down, clinking against each other when he moved, starkly visible against the paleness of his chest. Long and laquared black claws of his free hand held up before him as his gaze swept the foyer they had arrived in, a black goblet shimmering from the air and appearing beftween his thumb and fingers, before his eyes dropped to his companion, his look softening slightly. "That they have. Perhaps in anticipation of addtional guests." He smiled, a small thing fueled by a hint of pride, in knowing that their numbers had continued to grow this past year, and that his followers prospered under his watchful gaze.

Hidden behind a raven mask that felt heavy and uncomfortable on his face, Kinkade was slipping thru the crowds. His pale eyes were scanning the room - for trouble, for something interesting - for anything really. The dark-furred male was out of place here, he was never a part of high society. He was a warrior at heart and his true place was on the battlefield or in the shadows. Lost in his thoughts, his shoulder brushed against fabric that caught on one of his claws. Extracting it from the cloth by retracting his claw, his piercing gaze fell onto the kat he just ran into, and his expression quickly changed from one of annoyance to that of reverence. He was unsure of entirely who it was despite a familiarity tugging at the back of his mind... but there was a pressure around him, humming in the air that told him he was in the presence of greatness and power, and he felt it wise to humble himself to, if nothing else, a vampire obviously quite his senior. "My apologies," he said to the other with a bowed head, his voice hoarse and crackling as if it had not been used for a long time.

Feeling exceptionally out of place, Pythia slowly slid into the room. Her freckled face was hidden behind a feathered mask, but seeing as she only just crawled out of her crypt after centuries of slumber, who would possibly be able to recognize her without it? She had left her spear at the temple so as to not raise any eyebrows. It had been an eternity since she was given a chance to relax and party, so when she heard rumours of this event, she couldn't resist finding her way here. She found herself drifting thru a crowd of faekats as she took in the sights, sounds and scents of the soiree. It was all quite different and rather advanced, but it enchanted her. She followed the milling kats as they moved about until a break in the swarm of bodies opened a path towards a seat, and she took the opportunity, plopping down into a red velvet chair with a sigh of relief. As excited as she was to be awake once more, this was overwhelming. Had she made a mistake in attending? Was she simply too ancient and out of touch for these kinds of things? There was only one faekat she knew she would recognize here, but she didn't see the deity anywhere just yet.

This was quite possibly the absolute worst thing, this….party that the Noiad Disciple had ever experienced in his entire unlife. It was loud. Crowded. Stank of heavy perfumes and cologne that sent his sensitive nose to twitching. But since he knew that their Deity would be there this evening it felt only right that he make some kind of appearance. To show his gratitude for the new position he had been recently given.

If even in a begrudging manner.

As it was he had traveled quite a distance from his snowy mountain home. It was difficult to stay on the edges of the city when this Toreador mansion was centered deep within the sprawling cityscape. It had been a long, long, long time since the last time the Noiad had set a foot within the city limits. Give him nature. Give him forests and the crunch of snow beneath his feet and he would be a happy vampire for all eternity if he never needed to step foot within the city again.

The very tall and massive Noiad made his way inside, ducking slightly to ensure that his antlers didn’t catch on the top door frame though. He wore nothing special, leather straps cross crossing over his broad chest, clean breeches and thick soled boots, topped off with a long wolf’s fur cape. Soft, warm, weather proof. White hair pulled halfway up with thick braids falling over large shoulders. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the rest of his kind and was easily recognizable by anyone who knew him. Which here was few. It was rare he ventured beyond his borders to interact with the others and even rarer that they sought him out. The last outsider who had come to his clan had been the Deity himself. Before that it had been centuries. The Noiad were nuclear in a sense. Close knit, elusive. Preferring to keep to themselves and that was exactly how Espen liked it.

Icy blue eyes swept around the foyer from behind a white wolf’s mask. It would be hard to tell anyone apart with all these masks the others wore, though it was easy enough for him to pick out their Deity. It was hard not to with the power that thrummed through the air all around him.

Espen gave a slight nod of his head to Grendel, the feathers and baubles attached to his antlers shifting and clicking before he turned and made his way through the throng of revelers. Desperate to find a bar and get something very very strong to drink to help pass this painful evening.

It wasn't until now that Kinkade had taken the time to properly observe the faekat before him, but the hand on his shoulder snapped him to attention. Something in the elder's tone, his graceful movements, the powerful aura... His pale blue eyes met the other's gaze, and in an instant a flash of recognition could be seen. He followed Zalaam's eyes as they flickered to Grendel, observing the nod and absorbing the context clues of this subtle interaction. This was assuredly another member of his clan, and despite his gentle tone, Kinkade knew that someone showing such reverence to their god, must themselves be close to the vampiric deity. Under his mask he could feel his brown cheeks darken with embarrassment at the realization of his lack of decorum. "Indeed, my lord," he replied.

Showing up fashionably late, a power couple take in the manor before entering. The tall lanky male is dressed all in black, his face obscured by a fitted black mask. He is dressed as what a mortal would call a Ninja. Beneath his mask his icy blue eyes take a careful scan over everything and everyone. On his arm is his beloved, a powerful lady who is well known. When she isn’t dressed for a masquerade that is. Smiling at his beautiful mate, he offers his arm to her.

Escorting the gorgeous Ventrue Arianna DiAngelo inside; he softly chuckles at all of those already here. Once upon a time he wasn’t use to attention. Being mated to someone who is feared, envied, admired, and respected made all of that disappear as anytime she enters a room all eyes tend to be on her. On them. Not that he minds the attention. It amuses him mostly.

Leaning in his lips gently brush against Arianna’s ear. “Which wing would you like to partake in first? Hold court in the VIP area or perhaps wander a bit?” When and if she decides to dance he will join her. Aistra enjoyed dancing in his mortal life. Now it’s mostly when his beloved desires it. Most things are based upon her desires. Her whims. Some days he firmly believes she is why he was brought into this world of secrets. Mortals would call it Soulmates. Not something he believes in personally but he does believe in Arianna.