-{{Stop and Smell the Roses: Misto&Jet}}-

[icyreflections]

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[atrb=background,http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y77/libbyoc/forumblack.png] Misto had never stepped foot upon anything fancier than the ale-soaked wood floors of the tavern. The tuxedo tomcat could argue that the luxuries of Mother Nature’s herald were beautiful and lavish in their own lush sense however, he knew that their was a fine distinction between the soil and moss that carpeted the forest floor and the cool, polished floors of the Frozen Palace. The gypsy cast a glance at his bare paws and felt a shiver of discomfort run down his spine. He just seemed so out of place, standing there on the palace steps… his dark, slightly unkempt paws contrasted harshly against the light colored castle and he just knew that the cats beyond the doors were better suited for each other’s company. Misto was initially quite eager to explore the inner workings of the looming towers and long corridors that he fantasized about since he was a young kit and he was hopeful to find a familiar face amongst the throng of festive masks or perhaps, meet someone new altogether but as the daunting kingdom towered over him, the wind howling through the lit windows which produced a noise that sounded like deep, booming laughs that mocked his impoverished lifestyle, Misto suddenly began to feel like turning away and watching the Harvest Moon from a tree branch. What was the use in attending a festival that only made him realize how poor he was? Was this some twisted way for the kingdom to tease its citizens- to let them have a brief taste for the splendors that came hand in hand with palace life? How cruel and insulting was that? Misto didn’t want to have a part in it. He knew how little he had in his pockets- he didn’t need this fact to be rubbed in his face. He glanced up at the large doors once more before sighing and frustrated grumbling to himself. Why did he have to be so critical these days? Why? Of course that wasn’t the primary goal! Tonight was a night of celebration, fun, and commodity. Misto longed for nothing more than to sing and dance and give thanks to everything and everyone that he held dear in this world- and his curiosity was itching to finally see what a real castle looked like on the inside. He was sure that there was a dungeon in there somewhere, were the bones of some poor neglected prisoner lay upon the floor in the same position that their owner originally passed away in. ‘They’d be awfully dusty,’ Misto thought briefly as he pictured a dried jug of water sitting just out of reach of the prisoner’s grasp. ‘Would they really have just left his bones sitting there with his paw outstretched like that? I’m sure they probably got knocked around a bit at some point.” He looked back to the door and then abruptly turned around again. “Okay that settles it,” Misto said, opening his red and black checkered vest and pulling out the deck of cards he had stashed in the inner chest pocket. He split the deck into two and began to shuffle them for a moment. As he manipulated the cards quickly between his paws, he felt a strange sensation. Suddenly the black and white cat didn’t feel like he was standing on the steps alone and he was almost certain that someone or something was watching him as he consulted the cards: ‘Should I stay or should I go?’ At some point, Misto felt a warm touch brush against his busy paws and the cards felt lighter. He was certain that this meant the spirits had heard his question and were urging him to stop. Misto opened his eyes and looked down at the single deck of cards that now rested in his opposite paw. He took a soothing breath and flipped over the top card- the Fool. Any other cat might have taken this omen gravely but as his brown eyes gazed upon that wonderful sight, he couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. The spirits certainly worked in mysterious ways. Misto blinked up to the heavens, his eyes looking upon the stars as if they were the eyes of all whomever passed on and drifted into their own celestial kingdom to stare down at their subjects below and he uttered his sincerest thanks for their guidance. Though the autumn air was chill and the tuxedo’s breath spouted from his muzzle in thick white puffs, Misto never felt so warm- so alive. He turned to the door with confidence, his jester bells ringing out in the nighttime air like a cheery songbird and he purred, “tonight is my night- tonight is the night of fools!” And with that, Misto the Joker sauntered over to the palace doors, pulled them open, and strode inside.

[Kitsani]

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[atrb=background,http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/KitsaniCat/JETPTMIDDLE.png] Inside…oh inside. How could Jet begin to describe inside? The smooth, polished floor reflected the light of the crystal chandeliers above, everything with a very pristine, royal feel. The sokoke glanced down in wonder, cocking her head at the cat trapped within the flooring that mirrored her movements. The dancer couldn’t help but incline as to exactly how long it took the palace staff to get everything looking so beautiful. Typical of a member of the underclass to be immediately baffled by the floor. There was so much to look at; she couldn’t help but start at her paws, hoping she didn’t look too odd gawking there off to the edge of the dance space. But not only did the beauty of everything amaze her, but how...alien it felt. Truth be told, the room itself wasn’t the only oddity to Jet. Her faded reflection stared back at her with eyes that didn’t feel like her own; did she really look like that? Jet turned her head, and stuck her tongue out just a little bit. Yeah, that down there was her, too. She pulled her gaze away swiftly, looking down at her actual, slender frame. Yeah, still in a dress. She wasn’t the kind to get all dolled up on a whim, and felt a bit odd in the soft, sunset-coloured gown flecked with white. The beads around her felt constricting, but the emotional weight of discomfort ebbed to a mere nuisance when she reminded herself with a quick look that she had bells. Even here, she had three Silver Bells and it was amazing how much confidence was returned to her step by merely being able to hear the soft tinkle whenever she moved. Okay Jet, she told herself uneasily, you need to move girl, you didn’t come here to stare at the floor. Only then did her sapphire gaze start to linger on the faces of the cats around her, all of which had masks covering their faces. It made it harder to recognise some of them oddly enough; quite a few cats had gone to extremes with their outfits. A pair of anonymous danced past, smiling brightly as they enjoyed themselves, and the dancer’s ears pricked. Of course! That was why she was here: to have fun. Of course, there was the slight dilemma of her not really knowing any of these cats. A tom or two throughout the night had stopped by briefly to ask her for a dance, but with the night still so young, Jet did her best to kindly decline; she hadn’t felt like dancing back at those times. She had still been in utter awe of her surroundings. She navigated smoothly away form the table littered with foods and drinks and crystal decorations; all with a gentle touch of elegant Halloween spirit. Odd how they could make such a dark festival so beautiful; kudos to the Frozenpool Palace on that one. She moved gracefully across the polished interior, her ankles light, moving with ease despite the ribbons and beads she had strung to her calves. Outside, dark twilight light filtered in through the giant, paned windows of the ballroom. Stars already twinkled invitingly in the sky, but complete darkness had not fallen yet. No, once the darkness fell, the ballroom would surely be empty as everyone streamed outside to get a peak at the orange-tinted moon rumoured to rise tonight, as if the heavens themselves were joining in the celebration. Typical of the sky though, to want to be the star of the show. A crooked grin twitched the edge of Jet’s lips at her mental pun, but she soon found herself distracted yet again. The doors had swung open again, and the girl had been making a habit of taking a quiet note of every cat that entered. Partially because of sheer curiosity, but also because it pleased her to admire all the creative attire these cats were streaming in and out of the room with. The cat that entered now was far from on the fancy side, with a Jester-like costume that immediately made Jet smile. She smiled not just at the creativity of it, but that only one cat in all of Gwellian would think to wear something so utterly fitting to their unique personality.

[icyreflections]

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[atrb=background,http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y77/libbyoc/forumblack.png] Beyond the corridor that the black and white tom now stood idly within, a frenzy of masked faces twirled and sprinted across the ballroom floor. The sounds of their words and laughter buzzed through the air and took hold of Misto almost immediately; his ears perked at the chatter and noise and tried to make out all the conversations in the room. Soon however, this task was deemed too overwhelming and the musician accepted the noise as a ‘hum’ and smiled once more. There was a rhythm- a dance- taking place before him. Misto blinked as he carefully surveyed the cats before him- he watched them walk and spin and move and dance. They never seemed to be in each other’s way, they always knew where their paws were heading. Even the cats who weren’t physically dancing- the cats who were sitting off to the side, talking, or getting a refreshment- were unconsciously part of the overall production. Once you stepped through those castle doors you became part of something much larger and grander that you could ever imagine. For one night only, Misto didn’t have to by the gypsy but another masked participant in the kingdom’s ball. “Well,” Misto said, adjusting his mask to make sure it sat upon his nose correctly. “This certainly shall be interesting.” He then lifted his gaze and stepped down the steps of the staircase, leaving the corridor behind to take his place in the masquerade. As he reached the final stair, Misto found himself looking upwards towards the ceiling and realized that there were window panels stretching wide over his head. Protruding from the crystal ceiling, a glass chandelier’s frozen tears projected a dazzling array of light- which reflected against the crystal palace’s walls in a spectrum of dazzling colors, simply adding more cheeriness and a brighter array of color to the already colorful dance. Though the window ceiling and the chandelier were beyond anything Misto had ever seen or could imagine- there was a much fairer sight awaiting to behold amongst the surprises laid within the kingdom’s walls. Misto’s sparkling brown eyes were hungry for more spectacular sights- more images to feed his insatiable curiosity and his wildest imagination. As his gaze lowered from the sights above, to the tiny auroras dancing playfully on the shimmering walls, Misto immediately caught hold of something- no, someone who nearly took his breath away. Before him stood a Sokoke cat that he had gotten to know quite well. He knew it was Jet the moment his eyes met hers despite the orange mask that partially concealed her facial features- how could he ever mistake that icy gaze for another’s? Especially after he realized the illuminating intensity that was hidden beneath their frozen visage? She wore an orange gown decorated with white flecks and a string of pearly beads entwined around her paws. Though she wore summer flowers upon her neck and behind her ear, Misto was enchanted by the perfection of the dress’s pattern. He hadn’t a clue if Jet made the dress herself or if she realized it but- the dress was the color of dawn with white flecks that resembled the stars that shined over his head. Misto grinned warmly, like the rising sun, and wondered how many times she must have sat in a tree all night, counting the stars until they were cast away by the sun’s light? The mixture of natural elements- the sun’s glow, the colors of dawn, the starry flecks and beads, the naturally beautiful flowers all seemed to suit Jet so well and Misto was simply bursting to greet his dearest friend and somehow acknowledge his approval for her dazzling attire. It was at that moment however, that he realized he was the only cat in the room who chose not to dress formally. He looked down at his torso- his baggy peasant shirt which was half black and half white with a black and red checkered vest layered overtop, his cream colored mask with two different colored diamonds painted over each eye slot and his long jester bells protruding from the top and jingling as he moved his head. ‘Well, at least Jet will approve of THOSE.’ Misto said, awkwardly tugging on one of the bells of his headpiece. For a moment he wished that he considered dressing more regally so he didn’t seem so inadequate in the presence of the beautiful dancer. He normally had to struggle to make ends meet- why hadn’t he taken advantage of this opportunity? He could have been ANYONE and he chose the Joker from his deck of cards. Why did he do that? Reflecting upon this, Misto lifted his chin. The answer was simple- he WAS the Joker. The Joker symbolized several things: merriment and, of course, foolery. The Joker was the life of a party- always looking to have fun and make friends and explore. In some instances, fortune tellers would call the Joker in a fortunate hand ‘The Magician’ and Misto fancied himself a magician. The Joker could also be called ‘The Fool’ in less fortunate hands, which could refer to the fact that the Joker usually doesn’t think about what he is going to say before he says it or, he blunders into situations excitably and ends up tripping and looking like a fool. Misto could relate to both instances and suddenly he felt the same confidence he felt when he put the costume on and strolled into the palace. Why would anyone honestly put on a mask to pretend to be someone they weren’t when each and everyday the poor had to try to become something ‘better’- something that wasn’t really them? He suddenly felt more clever and powerful than usual- he was making a stand, a statement. He didn’t need to be rich or powerful to have a good time and if that meant his was foolish, than so be it! With that, Misto stood on his toes and twirled on one foot towards Jet. As a part of ‘the dance’ he was able to dodge others dexterity and stood before her with a charming smile upon his face. “My lady,” he purred and bowed, “might I just say that your bells look simply dazzling tonight?” He dipped his head and shook it as the bells connected to his mask began to chime merrily. He looked up at her and flash a cheeky, devilish grin, “jealous?” He straightened and began to strut in front of her in a silly manner. “I think you have some competition, Jet. I have recently discovered the joy that bells bring and I quite like it. I think that I sport them quite well, don’t you?”

[Kitsani]

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[atrb=background,http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/KitsaniCat/JETPTMIDDLE.png] Grinning at Misto, she waved a paw in a small movement, and little wave. It was like the energy of the festival returned to her knowing she wasn’t done enjoying herself now that her best friend was here. She had danced with Jensen earlier, but the sunset-gowned she-cat couldn’t deny she had searched the crowd in regular intervals to see if Misto might make an appearance. She had been feeling so out of place in the large space, the reflective surfaces seeming to cast frowning reflections back at her, taunting their rich surfaces. This wasn’t her kind of atmosphere, but no way she couldn’t try being more at ease with Misto around, especially after spotting his attire and realising she was probably grinning like a fool. Misto, the Joker. Yes, it seemed very fitting indeed; the tom did have a strange was of always being able to bring a smile from those around him. At his compliment, Jet made an attempt at a curtsy and replied, “Why thank you kind sir,” but her voice was brimmed with amusement; she couldn’t pull off a formal response if she’d tried. Blinking in surprise at his at his cheeky grin, her sapphire orbs traveled up to his hat and she covered her mouth with a paw in mock shock. “Oh gosh, competition indeed. I can’t deny being oh so jealous,” she laughed. The thought of the two of them dancing made her smirk; all those bells would cause quite the tinkling! But the sokoke had a slightly compulsive habit – she couldn’t start dancing in the middle of a song, and already a certain piece was already a few quarters through in the background. So, she swallowed back the thought of dancing, at least for a couple minutes. No matter! There was plenty of things to do and talk about now that she actually knew one of the faces in this crowd. “Isn’t this place incredible?” she added eagerly, wondering what Misto’s opinion could’ve been of the giant chandeliers or windows, of the soft lights that illuminated the dance floor in which everyone danced and mingled, their outfits all so different and their eyes glowing behind masks. Also the stretch of food off to the side was impressive, but Jet couldn’t bring herself to eat any of it; she doubted the sugar would leave her feeling very good later, and if she was to be completely honest she was still too edgy to think of eating anything. A drink she’d probably enjoy, but she had yet to loose the stiff posture she’s obtained since entering the Frozenpool Palace. “To tell the truth, it’s almost too incredible,” she added in a quieter voice, but her smile didn’t falter; at least she had somebody to mention it to now. As gorgeous as everything was, Jet was happy with her life; she wouldn’t want to be rich. If she was rich, she was convinced she’d grow fat and lazy, never to dance again because there would be no need; money would be no object to that of higher standards. The thought mortified her, but she scowled herself for ever being as childish as to think even for a second that a possibility existed of her being rich like this. She had gone through enough trouble even getting her paws on a dress to where; she was no artists, so there wasn’t any chance of her creating something for herself. She couldn’t paint or draw or craft to save her life, and deciding she didn’t want to sport a paper bag to the event, had gotten someone else to help her out by pulling a few strings and sliding a few schillings across the table. She couldn’t regret her decision; a lot of the other she-cats around seemed notably prettier than herself, not that Jet lacked vanity. She focused her gaze back to Misto, listening calmly and gazing with watchful, attentive blue eyes. Few cats got her attention for very long, but everything Misto said was usually either hilarious, important, or simply an intriguing mix of the two and Jet found herself gathering everything he said in the vaults of her mind. It all just interested her, right form the night they first met with Zahara and they had all told stories. After hearing Misto’s tale, Jet had been pretty certain this cat must have many other stories to tell, and she’s listened ever since, careful not to miss any of it.