A Party to Remember

[Reginald Verity]

"I'll see your blade Durham and raise it. A giant Scottish...claymore. Imbued with magical properties no doubt."

And after reflecting on the events of Elysium. "He's probably named it after all - Angus or something similar."

[Christine Daye]

Christine's gaze sharpens for a moment, and she giggles. Still holding Erika's arm she quietly sings an old folksong to herself.

"A young man lately in our town,
He went to bed one night;
He had no sooner laid him down
But was troubled with a sprite.
So vigorously the spirit stood
Let him do what he can,
"Sure then," he said, `it must be laid
By woman not by man.'

A handsome maid did undertake
And into bed she leaped;
And to allay the spirit's power
Full close to him she crept.
She having such a guardian care
Her office to discharge,
She opened wide her conjuring book
And laid the leaves at large.

Her office she did well perform
Within a little space;
Then up she rose, and down he lay
And durst not show his face.
She took her leave and away she went
When she had done the deed,
Saying, "If it chance to come again
Then send for me with speed!" "

[Erika Leroux]

Erika glances at Christine, her shoulders shaking slightly, and though her mouth does not betray her merriment, her eyes cannot hide it.

[Eric Lunaris]

Eric can't help but fill the room with a gentle laughter as the competition continues. Verity stood out from the crowd like a viper still, poised to strike, and quite uncomfortable to be under his gaze so intently. Though now those eyes were only one pair of a whole crowd gathered around him. Being the centre of attention filled him with newfound vigor after the missteps earlier.

For those unaware, a kilt has three buckles. There are two on Eric left which attach the extra material as a double cover to the front of the Scotsman, the first of which he undoes. "Now, if I were ta've bagpipes under here they'd be the wee'est pipes ye'd ever seen. Make tunes as high pitched as a babe," he jokes, as he begins to poke fun at each. The first leather strap hanging loosely.

"Now ma ingots ain't under there either, ye see, havin' the occult knocking' round under ye kilt can damage ta family jewels." Which was a complete lie. Thoughts of a pianists hand etching the symbols of a bygone age along him glanced through his mind. "N' the love under there has no need for paper nor prose" Not that'd he'd reject words of ecstasy from a mouth that wanted to smile beneath his inky black crown. The thoughts distracted Eric as he languidly unstrapped the second, giving a moment of pause as the excess cloth falls, revealing a slim line of skin from knee to leather. It left only a single strap keeping the wrapping of tartan around him.

"Now ma claymore ain't called Angus, 'is name's Sans. Nor is there space to swing a claymore between ye legs, despite what ye'd 'ave ladies believe." Though he'd happily describe what's in the hand of his minds eye. Not that he'd ever give Eric that control, but it was an entertained fantasy. "Now a dagger," his fingers idly played with the metal of the final buckle, "is of an appropriate size, a good six to twelve inches ta be worth a damn, n' descriptor. Though, I perceive this ain't the floor ta beat round ta bush." The final buckle unclasped, letting he tartan fall to the floor, revealing a true Scotsman.

"Shame te man of ma desire ain't here tonight."

[Valentina Audley]

Valentina and Gwen are at the back of the crowd but they're still able to view the show such as it is. Valentina has, whether by habit or design, let Gwen take the lead and is stood close to but ever so slightly behind the Brujah primogen. Which leaves her perfectly positioned to murmur softly in Gwen's ear "I rather think the Scotsman beat all of you to the boon my lady." Her voice is amused and, should Gwen glance her way her eyes sparkle with mischief and something more...

[Lady Leverson]

Gwen gives a cheer as the kilt hits the floor, and a hearty laugh at the merriment of the whole affair.

'Lunaris, if no one guessed correctly does that not mean that you have won? and if you have won should you not get a prize?'

With an exaggerated look about the room, taking in all around her, clothed and not.

'Surely there must be something?' in a stage whisper behind her hand she adds 'or someone, you fancy?'

[Caru]

During the show, Caru has slipped away to hunt down the ghoul who had made off with her clothing. Back in the room she and Fred had used, Matthias has (un)kindly left Fred Dominated to the bed, like an attractive barnacle. He's also put Caru's own clothes on the damned ghoul that he left with. Well - her ghoul. She bought them! The two of them were presumably lounging about one floor down, if her guess was anything to go by.

Having desire to converse tonight, and assuming that such platonic activities were not done on Floor Three, Caru trudges back dejectedly into the main room. To her delight, she instantly spies an abandoned kilt around Lunaris' ankles, and cannot think him too bothered by her using it, given he has stripped it off with eager speed.

"Can I borrow this?"

She asks politely, with a small frown of confusion as to what the game was all about. She must have just missed it. Beseechingly, Caru extends her hand quietly between them, towards Lunarus, as she gestures to the fabric pooling on the ground.

"Matthias has taken mine, and I'd like to go downstairs."