To the Ball!

Taliana began to lose track of the guests as they filled the rooms.  When she was a child she would wander aimlessly from room to room, basking in the delightful differences.  Walking through worlds, every room a universe of its own.  Tonight she had a duty, though, and she spent much of the early part of the evening watching the lines and managing the magic.  Keeping the rooms grounded and open took more effort than she had remembered from the previous year.  Perhaps, she reasoned, it was mostly just the pressure, the sense that she had to set the tone of how the worlds could be woven together in years to come, to show she was up to the task.

A knot had formed in one corner, where two individuals, apparently costumed as a goat and a ghoul, had gotten into an argument about time travel.  The details were lost on her, Taliana had paid little attention to the argument until it began to pull and knot at the threads.  Such things happened, she had learned, when the realities of different worlds began to collide.  In this case, the ghoul existed in a world where time-travel was a relatively common occurrence, where as the goat’s world saw it as a theoretical concept full of potential complications.  The realities collided and clashed until a spectacular knot had formed.  And now, now it was her duty to unravel it.

As the pattern slowly returned to its proper state under her ministrations,  a flash of color drew her attention away from the work.  A shade of green that reminded her of a mossy tree after a rainy day.  The rooms were a swirl of colors, but that green caught her attention.   She knew she should explore the rooms anyhow, keep an eye on the threads as they wove through the worlds.  If she investigated this cloaked figure that had caught her eye in the process, well, that would be a way of giving direction.

She followed the cloaked figure down the hall, to a set of heavy doors that closed quickly behind him.  Taliana felt a shock of energy as she rested her hands on the handles and braced herself.  She remembered what her mother had told her about the different rooms, each had its own feel, it’s own rules, and it’s own version of the threads.  Taking a breath she opened the door, allowing herself to accept the falling sensation, the sense of weightlessness. Focusing on the purple thread she allowed herself to enter the room, finding herself standing outside of a large home and watching someone else’s journey unfold.

Raevenly Writes

At last! The Masquerade begins! This is where things get messy. 🙂

Our host, EclecticAlli, will be collecting the various adventures of her guests as she encounters them. This will undoubtedly be devoid of anything resembling chronological order for the evening, so I hope all your TARDISes are charged, cause it’s gonna be a bumpy ride. I myself will be posting several pieces of my ridiculously long tale, along with my favorite co-author, Caitlin, and anyone else who happens to drop by. I’ll do my best to keep the authorship and timelines straight on here, but I can’t promise what you’ll find if you follow the #EclecticMasque tag….

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