(ooc: Well, I’m playing it like he’s been there for a while, so it’s cool if someone is used to his antics or just met him. He’s not very close to a lot of people, but I want to give him one or two authority figures he’s submissive to…sorta, lol. Not saying the extras in the scene are anyone in particular, but...they can be)
Echelon stood in the shadows of the high second level balcony watching the people move about the castle foyer with a glint of fanatic excitement in his eyes. His feet snug and warm in deep crimson velvet shoes, he was just itching to move from his hiding place, waiting for the right moment to reveal himself to these idle nobles. He tapped his foot anxiously as a group of ladies entered the foyer and started gossiping amongst themselves. But he really was waiting for someone of more importance to masque with. He had seen the regent arrive earlier and was really waiting for someone like him or another noble official to enter his stage.
He yearned to jump down and grab a hold of the chandelier, swinging into those poor lives with a roar of excitement. But no a polished actor thought thoroughly every line, every thought and emotion that he would portray. One just didn’t simply jump into someone’s path without preparing first. But then again, preparing too much wouldn’t be as fun as just improvising his way into an introduction.
Echelon climbed onto the railing outlining the second floor of the castle, squatted for a moment as the weight of his garments shifted, then stood tall, grasping the column next to him for support that he had been hiding behind. The light in the foyer seemed to burn at an intensity that matched the fire that sprang to life in him, his feet place firmly on the balustrade, one hand outstretched as if reaching to take an invisible lover’s hand. Right on cue as if they were fated to meet, the unfamiliar face made his way inside, a noble by the looks of him, someone who had stopped to speak to one of the ladies still standing around in the entrance hall.
This one will have to do. Yes, not exactly a large audience, but it would have to do!
Echelon closed his eyes, feeling the life of Szuaku, his other “self� come to life in him. Yes, that is who he was. Prince no longer, he was the fox-demon of poetry and tragedy, bringing beauty and danger to these poor miserable little bored nobles. Yes, he would help them pass the time in his gracious presence. He would be their hero.
He wailed suddenly his voice echoing throughout the castle, drawing the attention of all present to the flavorful man dressed in foreign attire.
Underneath his extravagant blood-red printed kimono he wore an array of spectacular garments: appearing ethereal as if it were a part of his body, a soft slip of pure white and silver gauze clung to him like second skin; over that a robe hung open just a shade darker than the red of his kimono and appeared almost black in the shadows. Slightly hidden underneath all this glamour a thick black sash covered most of his stomach, pressed tightly against the slip. All these layers were held into place by gold and black braids that twisted about his waist and hips, the ends hanging loosely down in-between his legs. His pants were made of the same silvery gauze as his slip and draped about his legs in pretty fluffs making him seem like some sort of harem girl ready to dance. A red skirt hid most of his lower torso and was made out of a metallic yet soft fabric and was painted in gold to resemble fish scales.
A beaded red pearl necklace tinkled against his chest, and the red feathers that dangled at his heart pranced around to his slightest movement. Hair that matched his very own blood cascaded in pretty lines over a delicate shoulder, pulled taught by an elegant ivory comb, and long bangs blanketed one side of his face, adding just a touch of mortality to his whole god-like, spirit of the night appearance.
His face was the most startling thing about his costume. Painted to resemble a smiling fox-demon complete with pointy ears and made completely of pure porcelain, a mask hid his real identity from his public. He allowed for only a mere glimpse of dark plum stained lips and just a wink of that vivacious nature in his eyes. He was a bewitching sight to behold, springing to life as a demon stirring from the darkness after an eternity of sleep.
Yes, that is who he was. He was ready to play…
He wailed again this time as if in sorrow and raised his hands to his audience.
“FATE IS AGAINST ME!� he bellowed feigning shock with the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. “It is a tragedy,� he said suddenly, setting a sense of doom and gloom about the place. “A tragedy!� he said louder.
Suddenly he was flying, clutching tightly on that chandelier as he swung down to greet his guests, landing like a professional acrobat, arms outstretched.
(ooc: Yeah that is long! But he's wearing a heck of a LOT of clothes! LOL. Edited: The description some.)
