A Gaudy Masquerade

Players:

Miriam

Penny

Norton

Alessia

Aziza

Emma

Jill

Wesley

Jameson

The masquerade ball isn't exactly the most gaudy or expensive of events. The decorations are not top notch nor are the cars of the wealthiest varieties. However, where finances and taste leave off, exuberance and excitement pick up the slack. Many people are present, milling about the hall while friends play the 'who's who' game despite the fact that it's difficult to not know precisely who is behind the mask hiding the area around the eyes.

There's a stage and an orchestra plays familiar classical pieces. People are organizing for a dance in the middle of the room, lining up with their partners: most opposite sex though some of the same. It's a friendly atmosphere here; there's none of the subdivision one might expect in a party atmosphere. In fact, perfect strangers are free to mingle without threat of stern rebuke.

The general outfits here are mostly homemade affairs with the occasionally person wearing something outrageously extravagant; like they either inherited the mask and/or clothing or they went without dinner a couple of nights. This crafty look is not to say that it's all tacky or bad. Quite the contrary, the creativity displayed is noticeable and people made the best of what they had (when necessary). All in all, for an event that was posted as an ad out on bulletin boards and coffee shops, it looks great.

Penny is perhaps a little overdressed for the occasion, though her costume isn't really all that elaborate so much as ornate. The highly stylized phoenix costume consists mostly of just a traditional paper mask and a set of sequined wings and seems more to be an excuse to wear a somewhat daring slip of a rich red dress. She makes her way into the pavilion, moving just a short ways inside before pausing to take a look around, her curls making her somewhat identifiable even if her face is half-hidden.

Towering above most of the guests is someone that the unobservant might think is wearing a very believable policeman costume. The more perceptive would notice that the individual is actually wearing a legitimate NYPD officer's uniform. Apparently the city has decided to have the Law keep an eye on this gathering. The burly man in blue certainly doesn't seem like he's into the party - mostly so far he's been standing off to the side, thick arms crossed, glaring in one direction or the other. Keeping only barely with the spirit of the gathering, he wears a small black eye mask that probably cost him about fifty cents.

A masked figure waves in the comically over-large shirt whose sleeves reach nearly to its knees. The mask is obviously the centerpiece of the costume; the shirt and pants are plain so as to not call attention to themselves otherwise. The figure's neck is hidden by a twisted green and silver scarf, the starkly white face blank but for filigrees of silver and black paint-pen in a pattern that looks like ivy crawling up the left side of the mask. It has eyeholes but nothing else, even the lips painted in silver and black, immobile. It's expression is smiling, a little manic, and a heavily layered black "rock star" wig makes the white oval seem to float in it. Not a single square inch of skin is exposed. Slight and indistinguishably sexless, Jill lifts a sleeve-covered hand to set the eyeholes of her mask straight and thrills with a sensation like doing something she shouldn't.

It's not that Miriam is a wildly social sort of girl, but she has been a lot more social of late. And like anything addictive, it's become harder to pass up opportunities to be around others. This is a little more than she bargained for, and she's a little wide-eyed as she looks at all the people with a 'maybe I'm not really ready for this' sort of way. Still, to her credit she hasn't run screaming. She's also doing something else daring. For her. There was hours and hours of trying to think of a costume that would cover what needed covering, until inspiration hit. Rather than hide her gills and webbed fingers and toes, she's simply given herself a layer of blue-green skin tint, and dressed as a mermaid. Complete with shimmery gold mask, tank top and skirt, and a 'boa' of fake seaweed along with a few strands of it in her hair. On her feet, she's wearing simple gold sandals. She's trying not to think too much about all the attention she might draw this way, but at the same time there's an unnerving sort of thrill to just 'being herself', as it were.

Mingling somewhere in the crowd is Jameson, local NYU student and a face frequently seen about campus, particularly at SUFMA events -- though, of course, said face isn't exactly recognizable at the moment. Glancing about at the sea of shrouded faces, he takes hold of the long nose of his Venetian mask to adjust it on his face. He's staying far away from the dance floor for the time being, preferring to watch from the sidelines and observe the more extravagant costumes that some of the guest are showing off. Miriam's seaweed boa gets an impressed glance as he spots it through the crowd.

In a costume somewhere in cost between the phoenix and the cop, the Man in Black has arrived. He walks up alongside the expressionless figure, his visible lips curling into a smile. Hazel eyes scan the crowd, taking in the costumes, giving an occasional glance down at his own. His eyes linger on the mermaid, an unseen eyebrow raising. He taps the mannequin faced figure, nodding briefly towards the mermaid.

Entering the pavilion, someone looks about the room for a moment, before making her way over towards the side to watch the people around her, looking to see if there were any familiar faces. Emma possibly another of the few numbers to add to the overdressed. The costume she is wearing is white, her typical color. The top half consists of an embroidered bodice of sorts, with some floral pattern lining the sides, and the bottom half of the gown bells out a bit, not overly so, she does have curves that she wants to be seen. Her features, most of them, are hidden away behind a glittery half mask, which has hues of white, lavender, and light blue. Feathers of multiple hues also stick out from the top end of the mask. Unlike herself as of late, she appears to be a bit more primped up than usual, and this can be seen with her makeup (whatever amount of it is seen), and her hair is tied atop her head in a messy, yet stylish bun. While standing there towards the side, her blue eyes continue moving from one person to another, almost in a nervous manner. Maybe she went a little too much into the costume?

A woman enters the room wearing a white silk blouse gathered by a black leather corset and leather pants. Boots up to her knees, they end in points and the mask is black feathered, resting on her nose. Blond hair is tied back but it still hangs to the middle of her back. She stands just inside and takes a breath before proceeding in and moving for the drink bar.

The crowd mingles, listening to music but the dancing has yet to pick up quite yet.

Penny seems to decide that a drink is a pretty good idea right now, so she begins weaving her way through the obscured crowd towards the bar, all the while keeping an eye out for servers or someone she recognizes - although she realizes the latter is a little easier said than done with everyone hidden away like this. "I had no idea these things were so popular," she comments to no one in particular, as she picks her way around the perimeter of the room.

The long-sleeved, masked figure looks up at the tap, expressionless but for the fixed, gleeful grin and wraps a covered hand around the Man in Black's wrist. The shirt looks like it might be a straight jacket with the straps undone, but for a distinct lack of restraints of any kind affixed to it. Jill doesn't seem terribly eager to mingle without making sure someone else comes with her.

She grew up where masquerades happened every year, so deciding on a costume was always a painful process. Red hair brushed out in waves, shimmery dress of golden, red. and amber shades. Mask was a delicate, sequined affair, in more golds, reds, a hint of orange and blue. Fire engine red lipstick, golden gloves and heels. Alessia wasn't quite sure that anyone else would understand the idea of dressing as an element, but the idea had struck and wouldn't go away. Careful as she walked in in, avoiding coming too close to anyone in particular.

Hazel eyes roll behind the black mask, though his lips part into a smile. The Man in Black watches the people heading towards the bar for a moment. The tall humanoid safety blanket begins to head over towards the Mermaid and, newly arrived, Fire, gripping the wrist that must surely be beneath the long sleeves. "Nice costume," he greets the Mermaid, offering a gloved hand.

Norton releases a long, weary sigh as he continues his vigil. The cop clearly hasn't come with friends, since so far he's neglected to speak to anyone, standing practically stock still. His head does move, at least - especially his eyes, which flick from one costumed figure to another, passing over some, lingering suspiciously on others. He pays particular attention to costumes that seem to be going out of their way to hide 100% of the individual - Jill gets a good, long glance.

Miriam isn't going out of her way to get very close to others, either. Though, she also isn't avoiding people who get near. There's still a deer in headlights quality to her expression, though it's partly improved with the distraction of getting something to drink. Soda, specifically. She sips as she continues to study the other people who've come, her expression that of someone looking for anything or anyone familiar.

Whatever nervous feeling that was pricking at the back of Emma's mind a moment ago is starting to slowly disappear. Her eyes continue to gaze about the room, simply taking in the sights around her, eyebrows arching at some of the more modern and strange dressed. She moves away from the edge of the wall and looks to find an empty table within the room, sitting down to continue to gaze about herself and now towards the dancing couples. A bit of a smile is offered towards the orchestra at recognition of the melody.

A man steps out on the stage and stops the music with a wave of his hand. He's not masked but he's dressed much like the King out of Burger King: shiney gold on the top with a maroon vest, gold pants that are tucked into gaudy red boots. He's an older sort, white hair long and wild about thin features. His beard is trimmed neatly as he takes up a microphone. "Good evening," He says, a bit too loud and it brings some feedback. "Thank you all for coming. I have wanted to throw such a party for sometime and frankly, this turn out is far more than I could've ever hoped. Anyone who says that New York's spirit is dying just needs to look into your faces to know otherwise!" Clearly, this pause expects that people will be clapping but no one seems to want to be ready to be first in that.

Funny thing about masks is that they're hell on peripheral vision. Still, the back of Jill's neck prickles and the stark, chalk-white face finds the police officer and seems to stare at him. The mask does not blink and has no visible eyes. Her hand tightens on the Man in Black's wrist but the chalk face turns to the stage instead.

Turning away from the dance floor, Jameson starts off, meandering lazily through the many partygoers on his way to the refreshments. He arrives just in time to catch Penny's comment and he bends politely as he moves to grab a cup for himself, tipping his mask both to her and Miriam when he notices -- assuming, of course, that she's still hanging around nearby with her soda. "Neither did I, actually. I hadn't figured on this big a turn-out." There's something familiar about the woman's voice, of course, but he seems to be drawing out the mystery for the moment, making sure that she's who he suspects before actually asking. As the man with the microphone speaks up, however, he diverts his attention toward the stage.

Alessia maneuvers herself to get a drink, a reminder that the gloves were hiding her hands, a quirk of a smile that doesn't radiate any sort of positive emotion. About to settle into a seat, fingertips grazing the linen, before she's looking towards the stage, the arch of a brow hidden behind her mask. Settling into her seat, a neat, quiet figure, at least for the moment.

Penny reaches the bar but pauses to look up towards the stage when the man starts talking. As the man sets up the cue for clapping, she glances around, her eyebrows lifting, unseen, as no one seems to be willing to start it. Well, she's not afraid of standing out in a crowd, clearly, so with some deliberation, she tucks her clutch up under her arm and makes an attempt to start it, clapping loudly. "Apparently no one did," she comments of expecting this turn out, with a nod towards the stage.

The woman in the piratey outfit fidgets a bit with her mask as the guy on the stage starts talking. She looks about uneasily and paces further into the crowd, trying to get lost amongst the people. It's hard to totally blend in though with something -so- bright white on. Still, those around her just move aside for her as if they don't really notice her presence.

Okay, if something's going to take Norton's focus off of the crowd, it's definitely Sir-Gaudy-Pants on the stage there. The mask is small enough that Norton's raised eyebrow in bemusement is fully visible. He does not clap. At all.

Wesley lowers the offered hand. As the host speaks, he looks up towards the stage, head tilting ever so slightly to one side as he considers the figure's costume. With a sigh, he makes an attempt at clapping. It's rather half-hearted.

Miriam does nod to those near her, smiling politely as she has her drink. The comments about more of an attendance than expected get a nod of agreement from her. As attention is drawn to the stage though, so is hers. And so long as someone else starts the clapping, she'll follow along.

Alessia takes a sip of her drink, before giving a polite smatter of applause with gloved hands. Blue eyes behind that mask trying to take in as much as possible, without requiring her to turn her head and be obvious in her observations.

Wordlessly, the white-faced figure next to the Man in Black claps too, dull muffled sounds of two cloth-covered hands meeting in the middle. Jill's effort sounds more like clapping erasers, but it adds slightly to the volume level.

Unlike the others, Emma doesn't applaud as she sees and hears the man on the stage. Instead, she actually takes to rolling her eyes slightly. "I hope this doesn't turn out to be nothing more than a bunch of stiffs," is commented lowly. "There had better be some liquor," she adds in a continued lowered voice as she now cranes her neck to see what offerings the bar has in the distance.

"Shut it!" Some random person shouts toward the stage and another couple of people chuckle. This does not daunt the old man however who continues on with his story.

"As I was saying, thank you for coming and I hope that I might get the opportunity to offer -another- such gathering in the future!" He seems very pleased with himself. "Now, I would like you guys to enjoy yourselves and be safe!" Though he might have hoped for applauds, he doesn't wait for them. He paces off the stage and the music restarts. People try to do some dancing... it's not the prettiest or most graceful grouping... but they will try to drag in other people.

"Well, that was... special," the Man in Black says softly, just loud enough for those nearest to him to hear. He glances briefly towards his companion's unreadable face before watching the people making a valiant effort to dance. "Yeah..." He turns to the Mermaid, gesturing to her soda. "Where'd you get that?" he asks.

Norton's eyes dart over to the person who yelled out in the middle of the old man's little speech, but it's hopeless - try matching a voice to a face in THIS crowd. He very slowly shifts his weight, and otherwise resumes standing still and glaring at people. He doesn't even sway with the music - not even slightly, which is kind of strange when you think about it.

"Be safe," Penny repeats with some wry amusement. "Didn't realize these things were so risky." Again, it's not really directed towards anyone in particular, but all those in her general vicinity. Now that the speech seems to be over, she turns back to the bar, hesitating a moment and then just ordering a diet soda for herself. So far, she hasn't seemed to recognize anyone as she turns back towards the dance floor again

Miriam takes an inadvertent step back as people start to dance, her body language saying she is not at all a dancing sort. She looks then to the Man in Black, and replies "At the bar. It's a pretty standard mixer." She does chuckle to Penny's comment about the masquerade being risky. "Well, I suppose you never know. But I figure he meant people drinking too much."

"Well, that was rather rude," Jameson mutters as the anonymous heckler strikes though he continues to listen attentively to the festively dressed man on the stage -- and claps as best he can with the over-full Sprite he's just been handed from the bar when the speech is through. He gives a slight nod to Penny and then to Miriam. "Exactly, one never knows. Someone could... Slip on a stray boa, I suppose," he says with a laugh. Clearly he's not counting on anything so out of the ordinary happening.

Alessia is engaging in one of her favorite past times, people watching. Silently sipping at her cocktail, blue eyes scanning over people, taking in costumes, postures, and for some, emotional states as she sat back in her chair. Tilting or turning her head a bit, now and again, to just watch a new segment of the people here.

Wordlessly, the expressionless white-faced puppet pulls comically on the Man in Black's arm again, raising a hand toward the refreshment tables. The sleeves of her shirt are so long that her hand doesn't emerge, but flops another eight inches of sleeve below her covered fingertip, his mute helper. "I'm sorry your girlfriend couldn't come," Jill says in the hollow, muffled tone of someone speaking behind a mask.

"Hey, wet seaweed's pretty slippery. It could happen." The mermaid doesn't look too serious, though. "But unless I get hosed down or something, I think people are pretty safe from it." Not that it looks like real seaweed. That would be pungent after a while. Though, there is a whiff of seawater about her.

Penny gives a little laugh as the others reply to her, shrugging her mostly bare shoulders. "A bunch of drunk people in costumes, that just sounds like a recipe for a good time - and some ample blackmail material," she comments, those grey eyes sparkling behind the mask. "But yes, there has been an epidemic in boa tripping, quite right to worry about it." She takes a sip of her drink, leaning back against the bar now, not worrying too much that she might be blocking someone's way to the drinks.

The Man in Black glances around for a moment. "To be honest, she'd probably be bored to tears, and well, her bored doesn't bode well for anyone." He looks towards the bar, releasing the puppetlike figure to start towards the bartender. "Be right back," he assures his friend, "want anything?"

Cocktail finished, she's rising to head to the bar for another one, pondering more of the same or if she should have a plain soda, this round. Smile hovering about her mouth as she decides, since she' already arranged for transport home, it hardly matters if she's above the legal limit. She's not about to be operating any sort of machinery. Carefully winding her ways between tables to get to the bar again.

"Yeah, best to be safe than sorry." Jameson laughs a little -- though the seaweed boa gets another look all the same. "Nice costume, by the way. Both of you, actually. Where did you get them?" He sips his soda thoughtfully as he studies both girls' ensembles a bit closer. "I wish I'd had a little more time to get mine together."

Miriam smiles towards Penny. "It might make some people more fun to watch, sure." she agrees, looking pretty content with her non-alcohol. "I'm not really up for becoming fun to watch tonight, though. I might slip on my boa." There's a grin as she adds that last. "And thanks." she says to Jameson. "I study sea life, and this just seemed fun. It wasn't too hard to put together."

"I always enjoy being fun to watch, though I try to draw the line at turning myself into an outright spectacle," Penny replies easily. She glances back over to Jameson with a smile. "The mask I got from a costume shop uptown, the wings I found in Chinatown, and the rest, well, I just happened to own. Though I suppose you could say I 'made' the shoes myself," she adds, sticking one out to admire the feather she so artfully stuck there with a glue-gun. "I only really decided to come on a whim."

"Oh, anything please," Jill's mask bobs in a nod as she replies. She stands, twirling her long sleeves down to her knees like a particularly lazy pinwheel and clearing a few square feet of space around her. The puppet weaves aside to keep from being jostled by the crowd, staring disconcertingly at each person in turn.

Norton continues to scan the crowd. Part of him really is trying to do his best to keep the party going smoothly, but to be perfectly honest, he's also bored out of his mind - frustration is mounting on the cop's barely-masked face, his jaw clenched. He still lingers from time to time on one individual or another... occasionally he'll audibly scoff at a costume he finds unduly ludicrous, though for the most part the hum of the crowd drowns him out.

"Get your hands off of me!" Someone in the middle of the crowd cries this out... but it's a brief, quick thing. The rest is muttered. Music slows... stops. People in the center of the room begin to draw back from a scuffle. A woman dressed all in black is being held by a man in a trench coat.

"I told you what I want," His words are emotionless as if he couldn't care what the answer would be either way. "You must give it to me." She struggles to get away but he won't let her go. No one seems to be stepping up. Perhaps it's just a disagreement between boyfriend and girlfriend.

Wesley negotiates briefly with the bartender, returning a moment or two later with two glasses of soda. He passes one to Jill, as he finds something to lean lazily against. He even got her a bendy straw. However, even teenage apathy can't stop him from noticing the developing scene. He watches intently, giving a brief glance around, seeing if anyone's moving to stop it.

"I'm content to watch the 'outright spectacle'," Jameson chimes in with a smirk. "Though I didn't bring my camera so I suppose that I'll have to forego the blackmail part." Oh little law student! How much bolder a mask makes you -- though, of course, that's not saying too much. He nods a little as the girls explain their costumes. "Now I really feel like I've done this on the fly. I think I must have picked up the last costume they had. The mask, at least, was something I borrowed from a friend so it's in a bit better shape. If they do happen to host another of these I'll try to be a bit better prepar--" He cuts off as he becomes aware of the sudden lack of music -- and the raised voices. "What's going on over there?"

The Woman in White's attention is suddenly turned towards the middle of the room at the sound of the cries. She doesn't make any motions, but continues to sit there, watching the two. "This party just got a little more exciting," she smirks, passing off the scene as a drunken argument between a couple. Although, her eyes do drift along the crowd to gauge other's reactions.

The rustling of her skirt and the swishing movements her clothing makes as she moves stays pretty much at the back of the room. Making her way in just in time to see the scuffle, she keeps her hands clasped in front of her, holding the shoulder wrap in place, as she looks to be just trying to find out what's going on while at the same time stay out of everyone's way.

Alessia lifts a gloved hand to tug away a strand of red that had gotten caught in sequins of her mask. That cry from the crowd makes her blood go cold, deja vu making her arms break out with goose bumps. It was so much.. the same. The same hue and tone.. glass set down at an empty seat, before she's making her way towards the crowd that's quickly retracting from the goings on.

The scuffle draws Miriam's attention, but she looks very content to just watch, her expression one of curiosity.

For the first time since the ball started, the cop's body language changes significantly. Norton's arms uncross, and he faces the sound of the cry for help. He takes a few steps in the direction of the altercation - he doesn't move quickly, but his movement has the decisive finality of an approaching glacier.

"That's why you get a cell phone with a camera built right in," Penny advises sagely and with a little grin. It breaks off somewhat abruptly as the commotion kicks up out on the dance floor. "I ... don't know," she replies to the question asked, rising up on her tiptoes to try to see over the crowd, though considering the height of her heels and her tiny size, it really doesn't do much to help. "Can you see?" she asks of the others.

"Thank you." A sliver of shiny blue peeks between the puppet's scarf and white-faced mask, poking the drink's straw into it and making a soft, distractedly curious "Mmm?" sound in the direction of the scuffle. Jill's free hand pulls at the Man in Black's shirt like a child and points.

Wesley sets his drink down. "Watch my drink," he says, standing up. "Rowdy drunk couple?" he supposes, glancing down to Jill. "You wait here, I'm going to go get a closer look." He begins walking through the crowd, stepping around people when he can, simply, but gently pushing them out of his way when he can't.

Considering the crowd's general rule that you don't move or let others by, because you can't see the commotion, the high heels, and her apparent hesitation to get into too close of contact with anyone, the redheaded empath slips through the crowd like an eel. Just trying to reach the inside, the edge of the inner circle around the outburst, to better be able to see and try to assess if it's anything like what she saw before, and possible methods of assistance.

Lord Gold Outfit shows back up and approaches the altercation quickly. "Hey now, this is unnecessary!" He says loudly. "Please, don't make such a display--" Before he can finish, just as he gets into range, the man holding the woman lashes out with a backhand, knocking the old man flat on his ass.

You didn't listen to me, woman." Says the man. "Give. Me. What. I. Want." Still a dead pan, still no emotion, despite his act of violence he seems perfectly calm.

Unlike everyone else, the one in the belle of the ball gown isn't moving in any closer. Her hands remaining clasped in front of her all the while. The fingers clenched even tighter to hold the shawl in place as that grey eyed gaze watches, showing little of any thoughts going on in her head.

As the altercation becomes more violent, Miriam back up a little more. Her curiosity doesn't seem enough to get closer to whatever's going on, leaving it to others to have a better look.

Looking over to Miriam and Penny, Jameson shakes his head. "Not really. Not from here, anyway." And with that, he takes a few steps forward. He's a bit hesitant to get too close to whatever's going on down there but his curiosity is getting the better of him. Just as the old man is knocked over he manages to gain a better vantage point. "Someone... Someone should do something..." Though it seems it's going to take a bit more of an effort to overcome his reluctance this time.

When the backhand happens, a blonde eyebrow arches. Maybe this was more than an argument after all. Emma stands and makes her way through the growing crowd to see what is going on, but she doesn't dare try to get too close - she's had too many physical altercations as it was and her hired security wasn't with her tonight since she let him off. Either way, she is able to make it to see a sliver of what is going on, past the rubbernecking others.

Alessia ignores the pain of what feels like her stomach being tied up in knots. Blue eyes fixed from behind the mask, on the man that is so, on the surface, without emotion. Studying him as if he was an interesting scientific specimen, or an equation to solve. Fingers of her left hand fiddle with the fingers of the glove on her right. "Hey now.. " Daring to speak up, a short step away from the safety of the crowd. "No need for all o' that, now. Jus' relax, Ah'm sure everythin' can be resolved." Provided she doesn't lose her drink on the floor.

"HEY!" The cop's voice, deep and gravelly, rumbles out over the sounds of the crowd. Drawing himself up to his full height, he's having a somewhat easier time of making his way through the crowd - most aren't willing to stay in his way. He still doesn't seem to be rushing, though he does rip the tiny mask off his face. "Officer Norton Fisch of the NYPD. You do -not- want to try doing that again."

And the old man falling on his ass would be Wesley's cue to start moving a little quicker. "Perhaps you didn't listen to her, douche. Hands off!" he cries over the crowd.

Penny nods a little to Jameson's response, taking that, combined with his forward motion, as a suggestion that they should therefore find a spot where they /can/ see. She casts a quick look over at Miriam, but as the woman doesn't seem interested in tagging along, she just turns back to the fray after setting her drink down on the bar. Mostly she just tries to follow in Jameson's wake, and then attempts to duck around him, for even with her heels, she's unlikely to impede many other people's views. "Whoa, what /is/ going on?"

Aziza starts trying to push herself more to the back wall, knowing where this is going to be going. She takes several breaths and whispers, "Isis... don't let this happen. Not tonight... please" Her gloved fingers clasping around something on her neck as her grey eyes watch what's going on around her getting ready for the violence to start.

Blue eyes lock on the cop from behind her mask a moment, forgetting she was even wearing it, so narrowed was her focus. "Jus' let her go." Quietly to the guy holding onto the woman, demanding whatever it was that it wanted. Truth was, she felt anything but calm or confident, right now, but she couldn't exactly convey that, either. Another half step forward.

"A cop?" Emma states towards no one in particular in front of her, curiosity hinted in her voice. "I can't get a bloody cop to help me when someone snatches my bag or tries to mug me, but here is one standing in the middle of a masquerade dance like this was planned." Oh the sarcasm is growing with this one. "Just perfect. I wouldn't be surprised if this was staged." Easy to guess that she isn't particularly amused right now.

Wesley pushes through the crowd, making it to the inner circle. He glances over at the cop, then returns his attention to the man and woman. "Just leave the lady alone," he says calmly to the man, not yet stepping into arms reach. He stands at his full height, shoulders squared, making himself look as imposing as possible.

The woman dressed like a pirate slips toward the door, trying to leave as quietly and inconspicuously as possible. She keeps an eye over her shoulder at the violence but that's as much as she's willing to become involved with it all.

The guy holding the woman lets out a sigh; the first bit of emotion he's managed to show so far. He shoves her back hard enough that she stumbles into someone else and they manage to just barely catch her. "Do any of you have it?" He asks, loud enough to be heard but still no passion. "Please, I do not want to hurt anyone but if I do not get it, then I will be ended." The way he says 'ended' holds a finality that's wholly believed and it doesn't have the fatality of 'killed' but something more grave. Something more horrible perhaps.

Guarding Wesley's drink with something bordering on unnecessary caution, Jill stands up on tiptoes to peer at what's going on. It could be anything, really, from the attention garnered. Her mask is no longer a safeguard but a burden, tunnel vision made solid in cheap plastic that she dare not take off. "What's happening?" she asks to anyone who will listen.

Aziza's fingers clasp around the necklace she wears and her lips pull in a small bit. Looking to where the women was pushed and then trying to blend in as much into a shadow amongst the walls as possible. Starting to mutter to herself in what sounds like some middle eastern langauge. **Dear Goddess.. I shouldn't have come**

Now, the average cop in this situation might take the chance to talk down the perp in this case - maybe inquire as to -what- it is they need, or otherwise try to empathize. Norton is not one of those cop. "What, you some kinda junkie who can't find a pusher?" He continues to close in on the disruptive individual. "Look, either you stop makin' a scene or you can spend a night in a cell learnin' how to mind your fuckin' manners."

Okay, so curiosity is still curiosity. Miriam doesn't try to push through the crowd at all, but she does try to see a little of what's going on. She can only shrug through, to Jill's question. "There must be some security at a thing like this, though. I'm sure it'll get taken care of."

"No clue," Jameson admits to Penny's question -- or perhaps to Jill's, if she's anywhere within earshot of him. "There's... /something/ he wants, obviously. And it doesn't seem as if the girl has it." He moves a little closer, taking care not to leave the small girl behind. "'Ended'," he muses. Whatever that means it gives him goose bumps.

"Do any of us have what? Ah'm sure if someone's got somethin' belongin' to ya, we can get it for ya. No need ta be turnin' ta violence, right?" Trying to talk reason, before the cop's coming off all abrasive, which even /she/ knows is not what's the supposed way to do things. She even dares give the cop a look for it, though it might lose that effectiveness with the sequins and all on her mask.

"That poor little man," Penny comments, as Jameson gets her in a little closer. She gestures a 'one moment' with her finger and begins skirting around the edge of the commotion towards the fallen man, though there's nothing stopping Jameson from following in her wake this time. "Hey, watch the wings!" she orders someone in the crowd as they get a little bent out of shape. "Sir, are you all right?" she asks as she approaches on him.

Blue eyes blink as the cop's words are heard. Okay, so maybe it wasn't one of those paid off lazy officers that look the other way when real crimes happen. Emma takes to smirking as she listens to him deal with the trouble maker - thinking something along the same lines as him. "Toss his ass in jail! He's been smoking that ice for too long," she calls out towards Norton, as though cheering him on. Why the hell not? As far as the man's words, the Brit rolls them off her shoulder. Oh yeah, he must be dipping in some potent stash to be talking like this to an open crowd.

"Okay... yeah, no clue what your talking about," Wesley says, stepping closer, giving Penny a glance as she sees to the host. "What do you need, man?" the teen asks.

"Wait!" But Penny's off before Jameson can get out further protest and after a moment he starts after her, weaving his way through the crowd albeit a bit less gracefully.

The old man, holding his mouth as Penny approaches, nods to her but doesn't actually speak. He looks embarrassed more than hurt and upset at what happened.

"I need the light," Says the man, answering whatever. "And I will not be arrested. I may not be. I cannot be. I refuse." He takes a breath. "If none of you have it... I will be on my way." He turns to go.

Someone in the crowd shouts out, adding to the other comment. "Yeah, put him in jail! You can't give a guy who assaults people a second chance!" That feeling is echoed by others in the crowd who seem to be getting a touch surly.

Aziza's brow furrows, "The light... " And then blinks as she looks to the group again, and then to the door. "The light..." Starting to mutter to herself in that language again all the possibilities it could be. Though she keeps to her dark part of the wall, not that her dress hides her very well.

Her Heart sank, hearing those words again, blurting out what came to mind. "There is no light! It's jus' somethin' someone convinced ya of. There is no light!" Sure someone's brainwashed yet another person, causing violence and chaos.. it's starting to be really irritating. Which is probably why her tone isn't nice and reasonable anymore, but a bit snide and sarcastic.

From afar, Aziza is guessing someone with the 'history' background mine is 'the light' could probably mean anything of a hundred of things couldn't it.'

"The light?" Wesley asks, quickly turning to the woman as she shouts. "What the hell is he talking about?" he asks the one person who seems to have some clue what's actually going on here.

Penny doesn't wait, of course. She's on a mission! As the old man somewhat replies to her after a fashion, she drops down into a crouch beside him, trying to avoid getting stepped on by the crowd. "Think you can stand up? You might get trampled down here." She looks up, and seeing Jameson has followed after her, indicates with a nod of her head that he should grab the man's other arm once they get the affirmative. But she's a little distracted from this task by the crazy man's ranting, and squints over at him. "The hell are they on about? The light?" She makes a quiet whistling noise to indicate she thinks he's completely nuts, before looking back to what she's doing.

That smirk is now shifting into a full blown grin as Emma hears others backing her up. Oh, this is certainly making her evening, and she came here tonight afraid of twisting an ankle while dancing. The man's words roll over in her mind, stopping for a moment at the surface. "Yeah, get off the pipe," she comments. She could always attempt to seek out the truth within the man, but with this many people, and in these heels, Emma's concentration wouldn't exactly be up to par for even making an attempt. "Lock him up!"

Aziza's fingers wring together as panic starts to show on her face. Counting in her head how many different possibilities it could be that he's talking about. could it be a brain washing? Could it be something of value? Could it be a reference to someone or something else? Ever so slowly she starts to slowly pull off her left glove.

Norton certainly looks for a moment like he's going to take down the guy - his posture shows every sign of a string about to snap, and the goading from the crowd isn't helping. However, it seems that this guy isn't -quite- the police brutality type. "...Fine Just don't even -touch- anyone." He then turns his glare to the rest of the crowd. "And don't NO ONE ELSE start nothin' either, or else THEY can taste some lockdown too." He's certainly going for intimidation factor over crowd controlling diplomacy. Then again... he's a pretty damn big guy. Intimidation might be the better option.

Miriam looks confused. "The light?" She isn't speaking all that loud, and certainly others are drowning her out except for those who are closest. "The light of what, Zartha?" She just shakes her head. "Drunks..."

Alessia shrugs. "Ah think it's some kinda cult, best Ah can figure. Seems ta me the people lookin' for this light all go a lil nuts. Not that first time Ah've seen someone act like this, lookin' for it. Think they're all a bit touched, if ya follow me." A roll of eyes at the flatfoot.

"What light?" Jameson finally catches up with Penny, seeming all too uncomfortable with being so close to scene of the earlier action. Regardless, he snaps to when she motions for his help, moving into position to take the old man's other arm and support him if he needs it. While he's waiting, he keeps an eye on what's going on between the policeman and the man who's at the center of everyone's attention.

"Yeah..." The Man in Black glances towards the cop. "Shouldn't you take him in, get the man a shrink or something?" the teen asks the man. "I don't think just letting him walk off is such a good idea," he says, pointing down towards the host of this little get together.

Sucking softly on the straw in her drink, Jill frowns below her mask. It's tilted up slightly, just far enough to wedge the straw between mask and scarf and show a glint of shiny, wet-looking blue. "What a jerk," she says to the same air of nothing she had before. Last time, someone had answered her from nearby, and it is that air of reassurance that she isn't along in feeling it that spurs her to add, "Hope they lock him away."

The man starts toward the door and quietly. He moves along with a slow and deliberate gait. He doesn't seem to pay any attention to people anymore; seemingly done with this crowd and everyone else.

"I would like to press charges," Says the old man in a nasally voice from his position on the floor. He waves his hand in the general direction of the guy. "For assaulting the girl... for assaulting me... and for trying to break up the party!"

"Yeah, you cops would've given me a ticket for jay walking but he gets to go free?" Random voice from the crowd and it earns the cry of others who agree.

Apparently the cop's attitude isn't just limited to troublemakers, as he treats the Man in Black with an utterly condescending sneer. "Oh yeah? Where's -your- badge, kid?" He scoffs loudly, as if the suggestion were utterly ridiculous. He does add, however, in slightly less condescending tones, "Trust me. The one's worth takin' in are the ones who -don't- back down on their own..." He's still keeping an eye on the exiting(?) scene-causer. He then whips his head around, glaring at the person who mentioned jaywalking. "And when the FUCK was the last time ANYONE got ticketed for jaywalking, asshole?"

"Yeah, shouldn't he have the right to press charges?" Penny pipes up helpfully, as she moves to help the old man up unless he waves her off, figuring no doubt that it will help him to be able to present his case while standing on his own two feet. "You aren't even going to get his /name/?" Now she's getting a bit indignant on the part of their host. That voice of hers, so well trained by protests and just generally being annoying, is pitched just right to cut through a crowd too.

Wesley points over at the old man. "Old man, got his ass kicked," he points towards the man just walking off, "the assault...er, or whatever it's called." Next he points at the cop. "Shouldn't you... take him in for questioning, /something/?"

Assuming that the old man doesn't wave Penny off Jameson helps to haul him to his feet. And, though he's nowhere near as practiced as the girl, he lends his voice as well, nodding agreement to Wesley. "You should keep his name on file at the very least. And since he wants to press charges, that pretty much seals it, doesn't it?"

Seeing all of the sudden attention turning onto the cop, Emma's grin starts to fade. The crowd seems to be charged now with shouts and comments for him, which she at first thought was proper, but is second questioning that right now. "Hey, he's doing what he can!" She calls out through the bodies, attempting to be the voice to defend him, hoping it doesn't backfire. "I'd like to see any of you try to subdue that psycho junkie." Her mouth is running now as the woman's mind starts to scold against it. Shut up, Emma. Just shut up before you get into trouble.

Norton pages: Ooh... if only these people knew that Norton's Specials list is topped by his incredibly strong will - and associated stubbornness. *chuckle*

Norton rolls his eyes exaggeratedly at the accusations and entreaties being hurled his way, as if everyone else's concerns were completely immaterial and they were all being silly. "Right. Because saying 'I'm pressing charges' means the police are automatically charged by law to arrest someone? Yeah, -that- makes for a fucking balanced legal system all right." He glares at another accuser in the crowd. "And you think everyone who's ever shoved someone else gets thrown in jail? Huh, better pay some more fuckin' taxes, it's gonna get CROWDED in there." His words are harsh and vitriolic, but there's no note of desperation - despite all the criticism headed his way, he's not getting flustered. Just angry. But he seems to have started off angry anyway, so that's no surprise.

"Make him do his job, chick!" Someone shouts after Emma's comment. "Don't defend ineptitude!" Another comment follows close by. "I got ticketed for jaywalking just last week!" It breaks into a bit of chaos. "I got a 'warning' for littering! I guess I should've just popped some bitch in the mouth and it would've been all good!"

All the while, the guy makes his way out. And as he walks, he brushes into someone, not even thinking about it so much as just making his way out.

Alessia turns her regard on the cop now. "Someone wanting to press charges about an assault that was well witnessed, should mean you at least bother to get his name and address, sir. There are punishments besides jail times, as Ah'm sure we all know. Fines, community service.. probation. That's already comin' out of the /fuckin' taxes/. " Calm until that last bit bites at him. Trying to lean up and see where the man got to, but even in heels, she's pretty short.

Miriam watches the nut as he makes his way out, at least as much as she can through the crowd. The shouting back and forth isn't interesting her nearly as much.

Wesley sighs, turning around. "Someone with a cellphone call a real cop!" he calls as he walks back through the crowd, heading back for Jill and Miriam.

"If someone /assaults/ him, I'd think so!" Penny replies to Norton's sarcastic comment, in that same carrying tone of hers. "Aren't our taxes already paying for you to /be/ here?" When she's got a bee in her bonnet, she really won't quit. Pissing off a large cop isn't much of a concern. "Maybe someone else /should/ try to stop him, show him how it's done."

"He didn't just shove her though," Jameson points out. "He slapped the girl, didn't he?" After all, he couldn't quite see everything through the crowd. He looks to Penny and the others nearby for support.

Miriam does note, still quietly and to no one in particular, "Isn't impersonating a cop illegal?"

Having found an empty folding chair to claim for herself, Jill rests with the white mask slightly askew on her face, the effort spent in painting it carefully by hand now feeling silly and wasted. "Impersonating a police officer is a crime," she says beneath the mask only vaguely in Miriam's direction.

Aziza is standing by the door and she moves to walk behind him hurriedly as he walks out. Her bare arm just lightly brushing his chest as she goes. Its a second later when her other hand clutches at the shawl she wears and her legs fall out from under her. Giving a scream of pain as her eyes roll back, the lights hitting her grey eyes in just the right way to make them look white. Her body begins convulsing as a stream of red comes form her nose, looking like she's starting an epileptic seizure and a hard one from the looks of it.

As the attacks turn on Emma, she really should have been quiet, her jaw tightens and she stands her grounds. "Well good for you that you got your damned fines. Ever hear of a quota? Even the hookers downtown have 'em," oh boy... "Wrong time and wrong place, doesn't it suck to be you?" Her accent comes out a bit thicker now with the rising irritation. But, she is at least attempting to be good about it - considering her past fights.

Miriam blinks as something happens to the woman near the guy as he's leaving. "Another assault? Now can he be arrested?" She looks concerned, but stays where she is.

Norton's jaw clenches tighter as the situation continues to spiral out of control. Dammit, why couldn't somebody have put Brettson on this beat? That fat ass would've probably -dressed up-, and he could have been out on the street stopping -real- crimes instead of herding yuppies. "Ooh, a slap -and- a shove? What next, a nipple twist? Call in the fuckin' marines! You wouldn't know a -real- assault if it bit you in the..." He's cut off by Aziza's epileptic seizure. "Oh Jesus Fucking CHRIST what now?! GIVE HER SPACE, CLEAR OUT!"

Wesley takes his drink, draining it with one sip. "Sorry this turned out so shitty," he says to the masked figure, apologetically. "Somebody get Dudley Do-nothing's badge number!" he calls out over the crowd. He glances at Miriam, then looks out the door. "Um, whoever was on that call to the cops get the paramedics while you're at it!" He sighs, setting his empty glass down and making his way towards the door, muttering under his breath, the only words even close to audible all being rather colorful in nature. "Oh look, he's not /completely/ incompetent."

Aziza's mask falls off her face as she convulses, her body tightening and her head staying tilted back. The eyes rolled and yet seeming to stare at something without seeing it. Blood trails down the sides of her cheeks as the nosebleed seems to just continue with no end in sight. The one bare hand is half tucked under her and the the other tight at her waist.

"He knocked an old man to the /ground/," Penny continues to argue, though she does leave off as everyone's attention turns to the newly fallen one. "Tell me /that's/ not assault," she can't help but add, but her expression has turned more towards genuine concern, as she again finds herself craning to see what's going on. "Do we need an ambulance?" she asks, her cell phone already coming out, and not to take blackmail photos.

Alessia starts to mouth off back at the cop, before the draw of attention to the poor woman that seemed to be suffering some sort of episode, halted the words in her mouth, turning them to dust on her tongue.

Jameson's slow to anger but he definitely seems to take offense at Norton's sarcasm. Before he can work up a fitting response though he catches sight of the second bit of excitement for the evening. "My /God/. What's... Someone should stop the bleeding -- tissues, napkins. Anything..." That's addressed more to those who are closer to her seeing as it would take him longer to reach the woman. Nodding emphatically to Penny, he adds, "Yes, I definitely think so. The sooner the better."

"It never fails," mutters Jill beneath her mask, slinking up from her seat with an odd fluid grace to skulk behind and slightly to Wesley's side. "Get any big group of people together and they can't behave *at all*." At the mention of paramedics, the mask tilt keenly to one side, its mute expression unchanging as it tries to look toward the door and the fallen woman but not having a wide enough field of vision to do it. "What happened?" she asks her date/chaperone with another tug of his sleeve.

Seeing that she's losing the fight against the tide of anger, Emma quiets herself, preventing herself from making anymore of a scene. Apparently, she doesn't have to be concerned in that matter, because most attention is turned to Aziza. The Brit casts a glance in the direction of the woman having the fit, and she winces, turning away from the sight of the convulsions and the blood, "Oh bloody hell... I don't want to know what will come next." All of her attention is now being concentrated on something else - anything else other than the woman with having the seizure.

Norton activates the radio on his uniform, barking harshly into the receiver in curt police CB talk. Although most of what he says is all but indecipherable to the average passerby, the jist is: He requests immediate medical backup, as well as some police backup as well - as the situation's starting to get out of control. He also discreetly puts out the physical description of the earlier-described troublemaker. Strangely, he doesn't call attention to the fact that he IS taking action against this guy...

Aziza's body slowly stops convulsing and though the nosebleed is continuing her head lulls to the side, the eyes barely open or seeing. All the color is gone from her face as she weakly lays there. What little bit she can focus on Emma's back. Just looking weakly as she lays there. Her chest moving up and down weakly, the eyes slowly closing though she seems to be fighting it.

"Not sure. Looks like she's having a seizure," Wesley says, and then, in a voice that rivals the cops in volume, "GIVE HER ROOM!" He stands by the door, looking down at the woman. "Fuck," he says, dropping into a crouch, "That's... that's a lot of blood."

Unable to really make out that Norton's doing it already (and perhaps doubting his judgment in these things by now), Penny's already punching in 911 to request an ambulance for the woman. Hopefully, they'll be able to sort it all out on their end. "Maybe you want to duck out the back way and make sure they get up here to the right place?" she suggests to Jameson with a bit of a shrug, not sure if that will really be necessary, but putting it out there all the same.

Out goes the guy into the street, taking a left. Several members of the crowd hurry after him and others move over to look at Aziza but they don't get -too- close. Someone moves closer to make sure she's okay. "Get me some rags!" She calls over. "I need to stop the bleeding." He offers up his hand in anticipation that his request will be met.

He's not calling attention to it, one person notices anyhow. Jargon may vary a bit from area to area, but she recognizes the jist of what he's saying. Blue eyes glance at him, conveying that he did take some action, on both parts. Quiet steps leading her towards the door.

"That's a good idea," Jameson agrees a little blankly. Though the crowd's still thick, he can still make out -- both from the witnesses' exclamations and from what limited visual he has -- that there's quite a bit of blood and he's going just slightly green beneath his mask. Already he's moving toward the door but before he makes it too far he gives a "Be careful" back to Penny. Whoever's under that beaky mask he doesn't want her or anyone else to get hurt. And then he disappears into the crowd.

Miriam steps well back and things get more chaotic, leaving tending the injured to others more qualified. She ends up near to Emma's table in her quest to stay out of the way. "Wasn't quite what I imagined, for tonight..."

"D-do something," the white-faced puppet at Wesley's side squeaks softly. She doesn't crouch or offer a hand to help, looking for someone with something helpful to offer. Jill's cloth-covered hands wring one another. "I don't have anything. I didn't even bring a purse!" She conspicuously tugs the mask down, however, sealing herself away again.

Air. Window. Seat. Something. The continued sounds of the attention on Aziza, even as Emma isn't looking towards it, is making her start to feel woozy. She moves away from the crowd, towards the closest window, which she attempts to crack open a bit to get some air, leaning over the windowsill as she does. The sight of blood, especially lots of it, had a knack for making her feel sick.

Aziza's head comes up and she flinches when rags are put to her nose. Someone is touching her and it makes her body tense a bit. Thankfully the cloth between them seems to make it so she can relax a small bit. Her lips move the smallest bit, as she seems to glaze vover vision ise, still staring in Emma's direction. Her fingers loosen from some cloth in her skirt of her dress and a recorder comes out. Her whispers escape hurt lips and then her head just lulls back as her eyes roll, her body going limp as she falls unconscious.

Penny just gives a little nod to Jameson's instructions to be careful. She's /always/ careful, of course. Already, she's beginning to edge over towards the new commotion, grabbing a handful of napkins from a table as she passes, in case they're still needed by the time she gets there. "What /happened/?" she asks, assuming those closer must have gotten a better look at how the woman ended up like this.

"Okay..." Wesley says. He looks up at Jill. "No idea, had a seizure," he looks back to the girl, then up to Penny, "whispered something really freaking strange, then passed out. You called an ambulance, right?"

Norton finishes barking into the radio, and it clicks off with a -beep-. He remains distant from Aziza, knowing damn well that he can't do a thing for her besides what he's already done. Despite the crowd's general lack of empathy for him at the moment, he returns to his initial task at hand... keeping an eye out. The last thing he can afford to do is lose focus when everyone's getting chaotic, and he stands ready to spring into more direct action if things go from frantic to violent.

She approaches the blond young woman near the windows, a tilt of her head. "Miss? Would ya like some water, crackers, or somethin? You're lookin' a touch pale, is all. Anythin' Ah can do for ya?"

"Yeah, I did call. Someone headed out to make sure it gets to the right place," Penny says, offering out the napkins. "I brought these," she adds, assuming they'll get to the right place. "What sort of weird something did she whisper?" She tries to peer around to get a closer look. "Don't tip her head back or she might choke on the blood," she advises towards the knot of the upset, where she assumes the first aider will be, as she gets enough of a glance at it to start tossing out her two cents. "Do you know the recovery position?" Not being entirely informed doesn't stop her from being a bossy know-it-all.

The white-faced girl with the long sleeves holds still. "What did she say?" The blank black eyes turn to Wesley with a serpentine urgency, though no facial expression is there to be read. She leans forward, the sleeves of her shirt dragging on the ground almost ape-like, covering the small tape recorder. By accident, surely. ... Surely.

Emma doesn't look up at the approaching woman. Her blue eyes are locked onto a nearby tree outside and she's concentrating on the breeze, even if it is a hot one. "Water, please?" She asks in a lowered voice before finally pulling her eyes away from the scenery outside and offering a sidelong glance towards the other woman. "Thanks, I just can't stand the sight of blood. I'll be fine though." A forced smile is then offered towards Alessia.

Alessia smiles. "Ah'll get ya a glass, jus' a second. " A wave of a gloved hand. "Lots of people can't take the sight of it, don't worry. " Moving to the bar, and demanding the long distracted bar tender give her a cup of ice water, and bringing it back to the young woman by the window.

"I'm sorry," Says the old man. "Let's just... we'll wait for the real police... the paramedics... and... and hopefully you can salvage your evenings. Forgive me for this evening." He seems mostly recovered though obviously still out of sorts. "Thank you for mostly remaining calm." The depression in his tone is obvious.

Aziza's bloody nose finally starts to end, as she lays there, waiting for the paramedics. No other seizures seeming to be abound at the moment.

Wesley turns to the host. "Not your fault," he says, trying to be reassuring, though he's getting out of here ASAP. He glances at his companion. "What'dya got?" he asks the mannequin-like face.

Norton glares at the old man upon his suggesting they wait for the 'real' police. Surprisingly, however, he shows restraint. Norton's a jerk, but he's not a complete moron - and starting a shouting match with the host would only make a bad situation worse. Instead, he settles for a dirty look before continuing to watch the crowds for sign of further trouble.

Jill straightens suddenly, her sleeves ruffling as she steps back carefully from the unconscious woman to let other, more qualified people in to give her attention. The mask is impassive, motionless, stoic as always, as the puppet steps back from the rapidly clearing circle around Aziza. The puppet makes a move, touching Penny gently on the shoulder with a swaddled hand and pressing something to her chest without a word. It's small, not much larger than a paperback book, hard and squarish and warm. Quite rapidly, the puppet turns and seizes the Man in Black by the arm, dragging him toward the door.

Aww! Poor old man. He might be a little strange, a bit a unusual, but not only did he get back handed to the floor, he'd had his efforts at a party ruined. A party he had clearly hoped to be a success. Oh hell. Disregarding all her usual personal rules, she smiles his way, doing her best to influence him out of his depression without it being obvious.

Wesley rises quickly to his feet so he's simply pulled towards the door, rather than actually dragged. Man in Black, exit, stage right.

Penny looks a little confused as something is pressed to her, though she takes it with a curious look down at it. "Er, thanks," she murmurs with a glance over at the puppet-girl, before she moves forward to fill the gap, quite ready to step up and put her first aid skills to work if no one else is doing it already, at least long enough until the paramedics get here, the object tucked away safely in her clutch for the time being.

Miriam watches for another moment, then edges her way over to where their host watches and frets. She says to him "There's still going to be a party after all this, right? I mean, people got all dressed up." Maybe someone showing some interest in there still being one will help his mood some.

Sparing a backwards glance, the black-eyed white-faced puppet seems to stare at Penny. Their eyes might have met, but it's difficult if not entirely impossible to tell before the slight figure flaps out of the door, sleeves billowing behind like an odd cape.

The cup of water is gladly taken and sipped on as Emma lingers at the windowsill. The exchanges with the host cause a glance. She might have spoken something just now, but instead settles on being quiet. This was enough action for one day and the woman was happy with her water for the moment.

Wesley enters the elevator.

Wesley has left.

Jill enters the elevator.

Jill has left.

The ambulance sirens are heard as the screeching tires round the corner outside for those looking for the vehicle. Three men carry all the needed medical gear and the back board inside hurrying to the fallen woman. The first man looks to the closest person and says, "Anyone care to tell me what happened?"

The moment that the other two ambulance crew start touching Aziza and moving to get her ready for moving, she starts to convulse again. Though her nose isn't bleeding this time its enough to make things difficult and a bit more urgent on the moving her.

"Yes," Says the host as he moves off toward the back. "I will not kick people out... you are all welcome to stay as long as you would like. Please. Enjoy the snacks and everything else." Despite this invitation there are people who are not too privy to sticking around and they make their way out, around the paramedics downstairs to answer any questions the police might have if they're there.

Norton occasionally speaks into his radio, apparently updating the police or receiving updates from them, although always in that police jargon. The cop's being relatively inconspicuous at this point, at least compared to his berating of, oh, just about the entire assembly of guests earlier.

"She seems to have had a seizure, though I didn't witness it myself. She's lost a lot of blood," Penny replies promptly to the paramedics, moving away so that they can get at the girl. "It may have been brought on by stress, since we had an ... incident here." As Aziza starts having another one, she bites her lip and watches somewhat anxiously.

Alessia gives Emma a genuine smile. "Are ya feelin' a bit better, now? Ya might be best served ta jus' sit here until the paramedics come. " A glance over at the sound of the ambulance. " Or till about now. Have a good evenin'. " She's moving away then, pausing by the old man who was the host, one gloved hand landing on his forearm. " Ya threw a lovely party, sir. Ah do hope ya will have more in the future, Ah had a lovely time. Alas, Ah have ta get home before mah carriage turns inta a pumpkin. " Smiling brightly for him, polite charm paired with just a hint of empathy to boost behind it.

Miriam nods, then shrugs a bit as their host makes his exit. She does look to be sticking around though, and goes to the bar for a refill on her soda as people decide whether to stay or go.

Emma does take to lingering at the window for a few moments, only until the emergency services arrive. The rest of her water is downed quickly enough and then she nods her head towards the host with a slight smile before slowly, but surely, making her way towards the exit - doing her best to not look towards the EMTs taking to Aziza's aid.

Alessia enters the elevator.

Alessia has left.

Aziza is finally on the board and her second seizure calming down. Before then being carted out to the ambulance after the one man speaking to people around takes down their statements. The siren wails as the vehicle then takes off towards the hospital.

Aziza enters the elevator.

Aziza has left.

Emma has left.

As the paramedics head off with Aziza, Penny turns back to glance around at the room. But she's not entirely in a partying mood, and she has a mysterious object in her clutch to examine, so she heads for the door herself. "What a night," she mutters under her breath.

Miriam watches those that seem inclined to leave, then shrugs again. She notes to no one in particular "Dunno anyone involved. No reason not to enjoy the party. Maybe this means the rest will be nice and undisturbed."

Norton gets another buzz on the radio, and it's apparently a sign for him to head out to the other police, since he makes his way to the exit. He still moves at that slow, measured pace, despite the fact that anyone else in his shoes would want to high-tail it out of there as soon as possible...

The crowd continues to trickle out. The musicians put away their equipment. However, this doesn't stop some people from moving to the table with the drinks. Apparently, they don't plan on letting a little scuffle ruin their evening. The chatting turns away from that and moves on to other topics.

Norton enters the elevator.

Norton has left.

Penny enters the elevator.

Penny has left.