⇨ FOURTH WALL EVENT! (OPEN TO ALL)

[ringleaders]

Who: Everyone and the 4th Wall Visitors!
When: Day 175
Where: Heartstone Manor
What: THE 4TH WALL BALL BEGINS! This is where unapped visitors can post and roleplay. Please read the rules and setting info below. For more information and visuals refs, read this. Questions can be asked over here.
Warnings: Individually marked! Could be a lot of things.

THE GRAND BALL↴ Heartstone Manor is a giant, spooky castle floating in the middle of a twilight filled void. It is the home of a Wyld Fae calling himself The Prince - and despite his name, he is a bestial creature crammed into a gentleman's clothing, completely obsessed with replicating the ideals of old timey human society, much like the 1800's. The Prince and his many servants all dress in a manner appropriate to to the 1500's - 1800's, and decorum and beauty are held sacred above all else. All the workers of the carnival are currently staying there, in the hope of enabling a successful diplomatic venture between the Ringmaster and the Prince. The Grand Ball is being thrown by the Prince to honour these guests, but his manner of doing this is going to come as a bit of a surprise. THE RULES↴ Powers are all partially nerfed for 4th Wallers. They can be used in small to moderate ways for the sake of RP and narrative flavour, but 4th Wallers shouldn’t generally be using any powers in a super disruptive manner. No using powers for fighting with NPCs (yet), causing general chaos, or otherwise making your character a burden to the Prince. If they try, they’ll find themselves unable to do so. Your character isn’t sure how they got here but they think they’re okay with it. Your character won’t remember how they were captured by the Prince at the start of the ball. They’re just kind of here and in formal wear, and something tells them it’s probably fine to just enjoy the ball. They are wrong. In-game characters won’t initially remember how they all ended up at the ball either thanks to a temporary amnesia effect, but they will be able to be concerned about the fact that other people (possibly people they know) have shown up, and the fact that those other people are probably the Prince’s captives. Weren’t they doing something else at the castle before this, though? It’s hard to remember. This is all very confusing. 4th Wall character who aren’t apping in were possibly never the real deal in the first place. There are a mixture of genuine captives and spooky replications created with magic – this is to provide some flexibility regarding 4th wall character’s states in game, as well to allow more than one of each character to be played. If there are multiple people playing the same character, then whichever one has an app accepted will have been the real one. No doubles of in game characters. (Taken list here.) No AUs, no CRAUs, and nothing else besides characters that have full source canons or are original characters/fandom OCs with no bearing on the canon plot. If you tag in with a character who breaks these rules we reserve the right to remove them. THE SETUP: 4TH WALLERS↴ With incredibly foggy memories of their recent past, your character will find themselves at a grand ballroom dance, filled with a mixture of normal humans and odd looking humanoids that have strange features like wings, horns, tails, fur, and the like. They have vague memories of being dressed for the occasion, but are not sure by who or why. Most disturbingly, they will find that, at first at least, they don’t really care about the details. It seems like a pleasant event, doesn’t it? Why not enjoy it. This effect is definitely some kind of mind control, so you can feel free to have your characters be a bit confused and conflicted about it. Ultimately, they have been charmed to participate in the dance, so they will feel like riding the wave is the best thing to do even if that wouldn’t normally be their cup of tea. If your character has resistances to some forms of mind control, they are still overruled in this circumstance. They may discover people they recognize (castmates) or even duplicates of themselves (somehow?), and these can all be treated as canonly occurring and played out as such. This event is canon for Lost Carnival, so it should be played seriously and respectfully – not that silly shenanigans aren’t also bound to happen. All characters are required to dress in formal attire appropriate to a period area – specifically anywhere from the 1500s to 1800s. The Prince prefers if people are heteronormative in their clothing choices, but if you want you can probably get away with your ladies wearing suits or men wearing dresses as long as they look presentable otherwise. THE SETUP: MANOR GUESTS↴ You find yourself at the Grand Ball without really remembering how you got here. The last few days are a foggy blur, and though you can remember some of the important stuff you were dealing with, it will feel less important right at the start. Of course, as the night goes on, memories of how the carnival reached this event will become more and more clear – as well as the inevitable worry and stress that comes with it. For most people, there will have absolutely no memory of anything that happened after the morning of Day 175. Did the boating trip ever happen? Possibly not. Even as the night progresses, they will still have no recollection of how most of Day 175 went, which is probably disturbing. The Mod has contacted those that are exceptions to this privately to tell them what they will remember. The people lost to the Manor’s security earlier in the week will be here too, but not as guests. In fact, all of them will be dressed in the black attire of a Heartstone Manor servant and will seem pretty okay with that fact. There are parts of them that look changed – and their dispositions are definitely one of them. How else could they possibly be working for the Prince now? Updates to the event situation will be posted down in this section below. People can react to these posts as the circumstances change, and may new top levels based on them. It is possible to try to sneak away from the ball, but Manor Security will be trying to hunt you down. There is no mandatory outcome planed to this event, so character decisions can and will have a major effect in where the plot goes from here. THE ACCOMODATIONS↴ MUSIC AND DANCING: There will be music playing the whole night, and most of it is so good you feel practically compelled to dance to it. It's possible to resist, but why would you want to do that, you party pooper? FOOD AND DRINK: There are circle tables set up with fine silverware, and upon sitting down you will soon have a waiter come back to ask for an order. You can request basically any European cusine and it will be made for you. You will also be given drinks, most of which are alcohol, no matter your age. Fae don't care about children. BALCONY STARGAZING: There are balconies that are connected to the ballroom in multiple locations that you can step out onto to get some fresh air. You'll see the courtyard of the Manor down below you, but everything beyond that is black, as if the castle is floating within a twilight void. (Because it is.) One small change is that there are stars out tonight, probably added to the sky for the occasion. ALL NIGHT LONG: The ball will go on far into the early morning. Or, at least, until everyone fucks it up.

Comments

Julien Delacroix | OPEN | OC

[espigeon]

[Julien's a waiter in an archaic, classy outfit, and he's a good one with an easy smile and a knack for showing up just as you start looking for something. This is probably helped by how he's surrounded by eyes, appearing and disappearing on him and in the air around him, never further than arm's length. He does look a little different compared to how he was a few days ago. The backs of his hands are colorful, with dark nails and cyan fingers going to deeper blue, but he's also got what initially looks like tiny folded catlike forelegs framing his face, covered in blue fur. They're the pedipalps of some kind of enormous spider sprouting out of the sides of his face, and they're entirely mobile.

Julien's also an immense, horse-sized white-and-blue bird wearing a black collar, alternating posing in an impressively wrought cage and being let out to carry heavy trays on his back. He looks different too. The insides of his wings are cyan-and-darker-blue, with dark wingtips. The big squarish scales on the upper sides of his fingers and legs are cut, polished pink granite, gleaming in the light.

Only the palps on human-Julien's face seem to give away any sense of anxiety, wiping at his lips and face and pushing up his glasses. Otherwise he seems relaxed and cheerful, even if his ready smile rarely seems to touch his eyes.]

[tacosgay]

... Julien!

[Holy fuck. He's okay. He's back.

Taako grabs handfuls of his skirt to rush over to him, equal parts confused and relieved.]

Hey! Are you-- uh... are you okay? [... he can tell something is off before Julien even answers, but-- he decides not to call that out just yet.] Uh... that's... a cool new look you've got there.

[espigeon]

[A flash of dismay and... irritation? shows on Julien's human face as Taako clicks over. He actually takes half a step back, and then snap, there's the lazy, lopsided smile.]

Never better, Taako!

[He smooths some of his feathery hair back to tuck behind his multiply-pierced ear. Under his hand the palp on that side is twitching.] You like, huh? That's good. Comes from... how'd it get put that time? Switching to the winning side, you know.

[His palp stretches out to touch his lower lip, as if to keep him from talking, but then it folds neatly back out of the way.]

[tacosgay]

[...

Okay. So it's immediately obvious that they did something to him while they had him. Given he has no idea what to do about it, or how deep this thing goes, for now, he's just going to roll with it.]

Yeah, yeah, I get you. Listen, uh... I've been hearing some weird rumors around, something about the past few days being kind of fuzzy-- do you think something might be going around? I mean, you remember what all happened, right?

[This is a test, and not a subtle one. Taako's eyes are glued to Julien's face, trying to pick up any indication of anything.]

[espigeon]

Oh, I remember everything!

[Bright as that statement is there's a certain edge to it. Challenging, or passive-aggressive. Brittle. Those memories are not good ones.]

Every bit. Of course, I couldn't say what's happening with you carnival guests - but oh, I'm sorry, I'm being rude. Can I get you anything? The wine selection is amazing.

[tacosgay]

[... ah.

Hmm.]

Yeah, you know what? Yeah, sure, I could use a drink. Surprise me with something nice-- I'm not picky when it comes to wine.

[As soon as Julien turns from him, he fully intends to cast Detect Thoughts and see what's going on in there-- not too deep, not enough to get caught, but just enough to sort out whatever information he can get. If he really does remember everything, that could be incredibly helpful...]

[fortuneglass]

Julien..!

[She shouts, despite herself-and practically flies across the room when she sees a (mostly) familiar face. No amount of wiped memory can keep her from remembering that stressful conversation that led to her determination to....to....

What was it she did? She remembers a fight, with a great screeching beast, but...

Well. She pushes that from mind, frantic with worry.] Julien, you're...

[.....Dressed like a servant? He can't possibly be doing anything else, after all. It's hard to miss the bird, but he's definitely not here to party.] ....Where did they take you....

[She remembers that much. 'Who was taken', one of them had asked, and he, along with one other-along with Sans, on top of the pair-had been the answer.]

[espigeon]

[Who's- ha, nope, that's still him, he's still Julien Delacroix and if he's up here, serving, that's still true. God these carnies shouting his name like they can just toss these things around, though.

He puts a big glassy smile on his face and then replaces it with a smaller one, remembering that a servant shouldn't seem to be too familiar with guests. It won't really matter in the short term, of course, right now what's important to his master is what he's doing and that he's happy to be doing it.]

Ah, greetings to you, Carly.

[She's not his boss anymore. Julien adjusts his sleeve.]

Why, to be fitted for the new uniform! It suits me, don't you think?

[fortuneglass]

[Yes, there he is-and Carly can't help but feel something is wrong, with that smile. That something is wrong with how he's standing, how he's moving, how...] U...uniform...? [She manages, confused and clearly concerned.]

But....you still had a contract, [she manages, baffled.] E...Even if you wanted to stay here with the Prince- [Though why would anyone, she wonders-] E-Even then, the contract would have to be finished first, I-

....W-Wait, is this what they did when you disappeared..!? They made you start working here..!?

[She's...definitely getting lost in panic-

Or perhaps not, because thanks to that handy fog of poison it immediately shuts down and results in-] ...............They really tailored your bird form nicely though, didn't they...............I should take some notes...............

[espigeon]

[His smile doesn't move, and he makes no effort to reassure her or follow along with her nervous babble.]

Turns out there are special circumstances! You certainly can't be blamed for not knowing. And there was no 'made'.

[One of his palps wipes at his lips with that last word. He ignores it, indicates his other body. It poses in the cage.]

It's a little bit BDSM, isn't it?

[Despite being a dove, he's harnessed like a gargantuan falcon. A collar is the most notable part, but there are also leather jesses on his legs - 'leashes', more like, at his size - and possibly a bigass hood, though not when he's walking around with heavy trays on his back.]

did u like her cockatrice, julien =w=

[fortuneglass]

No made..? How do they get all the outf- And that doesn't mean I don't want to know you know, I was really really worried, but breaking all the rules would probably just get us in more trouble, so I tried to make the Prince happy instead and-

[...And she turns. She'd last seen the bird holding those trays, but now....Now Carly pales, her lights all dulling and dimming significantly as she stiffens at the sight of the hood. Her eyes widen-and her tone drops to an icy bottom, frightening to those of proper mind and thought.]

What did they.... DO....?

HEYOOOO

[bearsarms]

[Brandon looks ridiculous. He's wearing something not far off from a regency-era military uniform-- all bright red cloth and gold braid and completely unnecessary buttons. It goes a little strangely with his small, gold-wire-rimmed glasses, replacing the contact lenses he'd otherwise wear exclusively.

He's walking among the other guests with an expression on his face like he's trying to remember the name of an actor in something. He offers brief smiles to those who smile at him first, but more on reflex than anything; he drinks from the flute of champagne in his hand when he glances down at his own hand and remembers it's there.

He livens up a little when he spots Julien's back; stops thinking, for a moment. A waiter. He's hungry. Something in him says: be friendly! be merry! take everything that's been offered you!

It's an attractive voice to listen to.]

Excuse me. Waiter--?

[espigeon]

[Julien's got a lot of spectral eyes in play, hanging in the air pointing in various directions. No one can creep up on him and he's amazing at addressing peoples' needs, but he's having to multitask their input and his caged body and his free one, he doesn't really register that the big man is familiar until he turns to face him.]

Oh! Brandon!

[Recognition lights on Julien's face and there, for once here, he's got a big, genuine smile, with his palps completely open and framing his face. And then worry creeps in to his expression - what's his cop buddy doing here - and then, thirdly, Julien remembers what he's here to be doing and now here's the service industry smile with his palps tighter against his face. Servants aren't supposed to be too familiar with the guests and this is way out in the open where he can be seen and is being seen, he doesn't want to get in trouble. It's okay if it's to needle the carnies, but Brandon's definitely not from the Carnival.]

My apologies. How may I assist you?

[bearsarms]

[Brandon's expression does several things in quick succession: Turns surprised, as he recognizes Julien (what's he doing here?); pleased, as the voice in his mind sends him signals that say look, your friends are here, what a lovely party, what a lovely place to be!; and then perturbed, as what he's seeing with his own eyes makes an inroad into the fog.

Julien doesn't have a hundred floating eyes. Julien doesn't have strange feelers around his mouth. Brandon is no stranger to sudden transformation, to people with animal features but this isn't.... right. Is it? Is it what he remembers?]

I was hungry. Just grabbed the first person I saw go by with a tray. [He smiles; it looks slightly puzzled.] Hell of a party. I didn't know you'd been invited.

[Was I invited? wonders a small part of him.]

[espigeon]

[Please, Julien would say if that thought had been voiced, I don't have a hundred floating eyes. That would get ridiculous.

It's like two dozen.

He's happy to see Brandon, but wow is that a sinking feeling, especially seeing Brandon's own face change. This kind of thing should be good, should be fun and weird, it should be time to catch up and field a lot of completely understandable questions, but it's not.]

I wasn't! I'm on the staff. You know me and new jobs. This is the newest one!

[There's something off about his tone, but really, he's been temporarily in so many careers, even over the few years he's been in Keye. Staying with the clinic was pretty much the longest he's stuck with any of them, but he'd taken a bunch of different part time side ones.]

Want a cheese cube on a stick? I can get you something more substantial, too. It's open bar, open... uh... food bar, so cost is no concern!

[bearsarms]

In a minute, maybe. [He will reach for a cheese cube if such is offered, though.] I usually eat before I leave, but tonight I... [Haha...?] I... guess I didn't.

You didn't tell me you were starting a new job. [He smiles; pauses, a little too long; the smile falters. He keeps wanting to put it on, but can't manage to keep it up.] ...Did you? When did you start?

[He's trying to remember having heard about this. Julien would have mentioned it, right? Or he would have heard. But he can't quite remember any conversation he's had in the last few days, or dredge up events from memory. Everything feels... muted.

He can't stop worrying at it. It feels like a constantly-repeating circle-- feeling pleased, catching sight of something off, feeling the pleasure curl up at the edges and go sour.]

Did you invite me?

[pipers_son]

[It's as Julien is bustling around, tending to various guests both of the Carnival variety and utterly foreign, that he might start to notice something teasing at the edge of his hearing.]

[At first, the words might be faint- maybe it's the conversation of some party goers? No, no, too rhythmic for that. Someone attempting to request a song? Going against the music that has been chosen?]

[Soon, however, he'll realize the words aren't human. Not exactly. They're angelic.]

[And it's a very specific song that's being sung.]

Ring the bells that still can ring, forget your perfect offering...

[Joker is good at people. Joker is good at blending into the background. One would think it a difficult thing to accomplish, so flashy and colorful as he is. Once it was just clothing, but now, well, changes in the Carnival have made him even flashier than most. Yet the entire room is flashy, extravagant dresses that bustle along and brilliant bright suits. So what better camoflauge could he ask for?]

[All those eyes make this a challenge, but Joker was a butler and a thief and a kidnapper, once. Magic is something he can't do right now, but maybe he doesn't need magic... Not with how his eyes have caught onto the anxious movements of those palps. The stories always talked about magic and curses being able to be broken by emotion and the most mundane of things, after all...]

[Right now, helpless with nothing else to do, Joker tries what he can.]

There is a crack, a crack in everything... That's how the light gets in.

[espigeon]

[There's a second here where, looking at Julien's human face, he looks like he's been slapped. He just looks hurt and disbelieving. Joker remembers that song? He remembers how some version of Julien had loved it? He cares?

He's an enemy now. He's probably, it's manipulation. No one really believes in Julien, and no one should. Julien presses his palps into the skin under his eyes, smiles faintly, and is composed again in a few seconds, speaking with respectful friendliness to a guest a moment later, even with Joker still singing and at large, somehow frustratingly out of sight. Julien catches half a dozen glimpses of people who could be them, but they keep getting back out of sight or turning out to be someone else.

He knows this is something to be angry about. He's happy here! He's got to be happy here. And he's meant to antagonize the carnies. But Julien is so utterly disinclined to lash out, to yell or hate people. Something else. He'll follow orders another way.

...Wow, Portland Leonard Cohen's lyrics translate really well into the sacred tongue. All right. How about this. These lyrics translate nicely too, if in a less poetic way. But it's not as poetic a song, either.

In the decorative cage, the other part of Julien thrums something too deep for human ears to pick up on, though you might feel it in the floor. Then he launches into a very different song, his voice sweet and pure as only a bird's can be, some of the tune and pace altered so it's not too jarring a contrast to the scheduled music. Guests turn towards him, but most don't understand the words. He must be an attraction.

There's an emphasis on certain lyrics. But I remember everything, what have I become, everyone I know goes away in the end, I will let you down, I will make you hurt, and if that wasn't clear enough, You stay the Hell away from me, you hear.]

[pipers_son]

[Funny how fitting Portland Leonard Cohen is, really. A shame Heaven won't have him.]

[And his lyrics fade out here, too, as Julien's other half bursts into song, no doubt so that the singer can pause and listen in return. It really is a much different song- a much sadder song than Cohen's worn out hope. It says something painful in it, something that hurts his own self in a way. Oh, Joker knows this feeling. That Julien himself is locked up in a cage brings up more memories of Celebration, of Hell, of being convinced that he was nothing and could only hurt others....]

[There'd been no magic, there. Joker doesn't need that to hate himself, or despair at others.]

[For a little while, Julien will have quiet, save for his own singing. Perhaps Joker has give up, stopped?]

Love, I've been waiting, I've been waiting night and day...

[Nope. Of course not. It's Cohen, again, but different, now. A different melody wafting through the crowds, going to rest on Julien's shoulders.]

I know you really loved me, but you see, my hands were tied. I know it must have hurt you...

[Joker isn't sure why it's Cohen of all people who's sticking out in his mind. He's dealt with at least a few karaoke nights in his time, so, surely, he could choose other songs, couldn't he? Lord knows that he has plenty of them memorized, from the childish to the cheerful. Yet perhaps this is for the best. Perhaps Cohen is the best and only choice he could make right now.]

[At least, until he can think of other songs.]

Ah, I don't believe you'd like it, you wouldn't like it here. There is no entertainment, and the judgments are severe...

[Which isn't to say that this song is particularly bright and cheerful, either. There's a heaviness to it, somber and old, but that suits Heaven's words as well, doesn't it? Joker remembers. He remembers all too well. Of course, some things have to be changed, with how formal the tongue is, but Joker is good at improvisation.]

Nothing left to do, when you know you've been taken. Nothing left to do, when you're begging for a crumb. Nothing left to do when you've got to go on waiting, waiting for a miracle to come.

[espigeon]

[Ah. Yeah. Julien's prepared for this now, enough that his human body doesn't react, not even with the palps thing. His bird self rocks in the cage; he preens at his shoulder and shakes himself off as Joker sings.

The cage is on a plinth against a wall, a fairly clear and therefore very open and exposed place. When Joker's song ends Julien opens his beak and his throat starts belling, but he's singing much more quietly.

At a glance he seems to be wearing a hat. There are plumes off the top and straps in the back and decorative eye spots on the side, and it's made up to flow with his markings, so it's not immediately obvious that what he's got is actually an elaborate hood. It's bulky and massive to accommodate his big, un-falconlike head, of course, but this is still clearly supposed to be the same thing.

In fact everything he's wearing resembles something you'd put on a hunting hawk, save for the collar. Those poor servants who had to whip this up, it's all leather and all custom made for something much, much bigger than the animals usually strapped up in this way.

Right now he's only really manifesting eyes around his human body. If Joker gets close enough to hear the song he'll find it's very different, much more clearly not period-appropriate. It has a bouncy, happy tune and is brightly, sharply sarcastic. Julien's bent formal, archaic angel words into the song where they sit strangely and have all kinds of disquieting connotations.]

Ain't it fun, living in the real world? Ain't it good, being all alone?

[Like, that phrase could be taken as the real world, as in not hypothetical, but it's also the world without God. And sometimes he's using a word that's more literally 'enjoyable' or 'pleasant' for 'fun', but sometimes it's 'proper' or 'righteous'.]

[pipers_son]

[It'd been a while that he'd first seen the state of Julien's avian body, as a matter of fact. Almost hadn't recognized him with that obnoxious hood (although his hysteria hadn't helped), but it's obvious, in hindsight. What other enormous birds are there around here? Besides, you know, a cockatrice. Which is dead now.]

[Still, he catches bits of it, as he ghosts after Julien, a route that takes him all throughout the ballroom. Well now, isn't that a change in tune? Both literally and on a more personal level. The things that must have been done to everyone...]

[Well. That's fine. He's not leaving here until their own are gotten again.]

[...But it's becoming fairly obvious to Joker that song might not be the route to go with, or, at the very least, he needs to try harder with it. Licking his lips, he goes through all of Cohen that he knows before giving up. It might be time to put the man, good as he is, to rest. Another route is to be taken.]

[Joker can't remember where he's heard all the songs that he's picked up along the way. Some in different worlds, some in different trailers as he's chatted with people playing old melodies on different machines, a backdrop to their conversations. Either way, he remembers liking the one that draws out nice and slow from his throat now.]

I heard you telling lies, I heard you saying you weren't born of our blood. I know we're the crooked kind, but you're crooked too, boy, and it shows.

[Very few changes have to be made to it, when all is said and done. Oh, a few, of course, because that's simply how the angelic tongue curls. "Crooked", or "flawed", or "weak". There are a lot of ways to go with it, and Joker doesn't bother to stick to only one whenever he replaces the word.]

[...It's later on in the song that he switches things on purpose in a way that has nothing to do with simply making the song work in angelic.]

But I smell your blood... My fingers trace your faces in the wood. I hear your voice somewhere in my bones, I feel you singing when I'm alone.

When I'm not too frightened, that is when I know that I'm here with everyone, you're never truly gone.

[hippocarnival]

[Yuya's standing dumbly with an empty plate when he sees Julien. He remembers him in wardrobe, and when he joined the carnival, and he knows that he's the same as Reira. That's what stops him, pursuing his lips as he stares with any mirth drained from his face.

Not that there was much left as the ball drags on and Yuya's memory starts to re-sort itself.

He finally forces himself forward to approach, his expressing starting to harden with determination.] Julien?

[espigeon]

[Julien watches this out of a couple of spectral eyes and considers finding somewhere else to be before Yuya works up the nerve to come talk to him. He hates confrontation - the past few days haven't changed that - but this is what he's here for, after all. He can't get out of this kind of thing.

Besides he'd probably be followed and tonight's been long and hard enough without getting a tail, who might know enough about him to just find his bigger, more obvious bird form.

So he straightens his uniform and gives his civil, polite servant smile, while his palps curl tightly at the sides of his face. Let's get this over with.]

What can I do for you, Yuya?

[hippocarnival]

[His grip on the plate tightens. Was Julien afraid too, like Reira was? Could Yuya ask him and get a better idea what's wrong? What the Prince did?

He wishes the Ringermaster never brought them here.]

What happened to you?

[espigeon]

Well, you've probably gathered by now that my allegiance has shifted! Not hard to pick up, that.

Basically, I violated a rule and I was caught, and well, your host and my master can't just let that stand! Isn't it something the Ringmaster does, make someone who comes in and breaks something pay with a year of their lives? It's like that. I serve the Prince now.

[Here's a part where his gaze unfocuses and his voice gets very much softer, with his palps even laying across his mouth, like a pair of fingers covering it. You probably have to lean in to understand.]

I'm sorry I got Reira into this.

[Suddenly, much louder, jovial, but with those palps flicking across his lips and chin in a rapid rhythm:]

I couldn't be happier! The Prince is, he's astonishing.