Vakker drifted through the crowd gracefully, almost seeming to just be gliding along rather than walking through the dense crowd. His head stood above most others, letting him look out at a sea of faces and hairstyles. He had spoken to a few other guests after entering the party, trying to carouse with the people of power here and gain favor or connections. It was important to be connected in high society. It always has been.

Now though, he wanted to just take a moment to actually enjoy himself. It was a party, after all. He plucked a glass of wine off of a serving tray and glided over to a small sitting area out of the way of the dance floor and less crowded. Maybe here he could find someone that wouldn't try to bore him to death with drivel about what a lovely evening it is or how beautiful the decorations are or how good the food was.

He was here to talk business, and had managed to do so with some, but they always had to add in all the superfluous tripe. He knew it was necessary to sound polite, but it was so tiring to hear the same thing from just about every guest. At least talk about something interesting if you're going to infuse the conversation with something other than important matters.

He sat down on a lavishly soft loveseat in the corner and crossed one leg over the other with a sigh. He leaned back, draping one arm over the back of the chair and took a sip of wine. The seating area was empty for now. Maybe he could just relax for a moment. Or maybe someone actually worth speaking to might join him. In either case, a little wine helped.

The night was still relatively young, but Cyran felt like he’d reached his limit on socialization for the evening. The dancing and polite conversation was beginning to remind him a little too much of home. Not to mention that this costume was rather tight, and despite the chilly air wafting in from the outside, he was beginning to get a bit warm.

Cyran excused himself from his current dance partner, a lady whose name he couldn’t quite remember, as he’d only somewhat been paying attention when she gave it, and searched for a place to rest for a moment and catch his breath. Eventually, he caught sight of a small seating area in a corner that was mostly empty. He would have preferred silence, but this would have to do for now.

He doubted he would be getting through the night entirely sober, so Cyran picked up the first glass he saw on a servant’s tray. The contents didn’t really matter, so long as it was bubbly and alcoholic.

He brushed through the crowd with a few polite nods and apologies, though not many paid attention to him. Even back when he was still forced to attend these types of events, he never stood out much.

Eventually, Cyran made his way to the sitting area, where a rather tall man was seated in a loveseat, dressed as a demon. The costume was rather realistic.

Cyran took a seat in one of the empty chairs, leaning back and taking a sip from the glass of whatever-this-was. It was sweet, but not high enough alcohol content for him. Oh, well. It would have to make do.

“I hope you don’t mind if I sit.” He spoke, addressing the man. Perhaps he should have thought of a better excuse, but Cyran didn’t care much for lying, and he was far too old at this point to care what others thought of him. “These parties can be a bit much. There’s only so much I can take before I want to smother myself with one of these couch cushions.”

Vakker took another sip of his wine just before someone else joined him in the seating area. A man in a mask and a skin tight black suit with two pieces of lacy fabric one their back. A bat? Altogether, it was a rather understated costume that didn't stand out very much, unlike the Vakker's demon costume, though he could appreciate not wanting to stand out sometimes.

He watched them sit down, not turning his head at all, but only following with his icy blue eyes. Only when they spoke to him did he turn his face toward them with a welcoming smile.

"Not at all. I agree, these events certainly can wear one out. It seems we had similar ideas to get away from the crowd for a short time, after all." he responded in a very polite but relaxed manner.

There's only so much I can take before I want to smother someone else with a couch cushion. He thought to himself after the man's joke. He gave a small laugh.

"My name is Vakker. And yours?" he said, switching the positions of his legs. One hoof went down onto the floor with a soft click and the other lifted up and was placed over his leg. He raised his glass of wine toward the stranger slightly and waited for their name.

They didn't seem so bad. Maybe the two could even have some actually enjoyable conversation. Everyone here had been invited for a reason. Maybe they could even talk business after relaxing for a while.

At Vakker’s introduction, Cyran raised his glass in response. Vakker had a smooth way of talking, and the fact that he hadn’t taken offense to Cyran’s morbid complaint was a bonus.

“My name is Cyran. Glad to see I’m not the only one bothered by the crowd.” He said, taking note of Vakker’s hooves as the man crossed his legs. “That’s an impressive costume. Way more effort than I put in.”

He wondered if Vakker was looking to impress someone in attendance here with the getup. In high society, everything was about appearances, and just because he didn’t like to follow the cultural norms didn’t mean he didn’t understand them.

“So what brings you to this party? I’ll admit, I’m not quite sure what the purpose of this event is.” His attempts to ask others had ended in failure, mostly because he couldn’t receive a straight answer. The other partygoers would just laugh and tell him he was too tense.

Perhaps Cyran did need to lighten up. This evening was meant to be fun, after all. At least Vakker seemed like good company.

Vakker gave another small laugh as Cyran's comment about his costume.

"Oh, this? Thank you, but it wasn't as much effort as you might think. I really just needed the paint and nails. The rest I just already had on me." he teased, putting a hand on his horn lightly as if he was adjusting it to make sure it was still firmly attached.

"Your costume is quite elegant. Is it handmade?" He finished, making a slight gesture toward Cyran's costume.

Really, his costume had taken barely any time at all. He was sure Cyran's bat costume had taken far more time and effort than his. He took another sip of his wine, as he listened to Cyran speak, careful not to spill any onto his suit. He liked this suit.

"Oh, it's the same purpose as any party in high society. Make connections. You must have some already, considering you were invited."

Zarius walks about the ball for a bit, taking in the atmosphere and maybe doing a tiny bit of eavesdropping as he roams. Most of the conversations were pretty bland, though there were a few curious groupings forming throughout the evening. So far most of his interactions have been with those he already knew. Seeing as there was a lull in his social schedule, he decided to take a gander for some fresh blood.

As he strolls by one seating area off to the side of all the dancing and merriment, he catches a glimpse of the red demon fellow from before. Seated on a chair, he was far less imposing than before when he easily would've towered over the charcoal colored tiefling. He glances about the space and notices that there is another there dressed in a less formal attire resembling a bat. The two seemed to just be exchanging pleasantries so he decides to invite himself into the conversation.

He approaches without sneaking about and puts a friendly smile on his face.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I do not believe we have had the pleasure of meeting yet. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Zarius. Would you mind if I joined you?"

It's a formal event, might as well play the part. Worst they could say is no and he would simply be on his way to find more welcoming company. 

Cyran was about to answer Vakker’s question when he spotted someone approaching the lounge, a tiefling dressed to the nines in a long coat and jewelry that glittered under the dim lighting.

As he introduced himself, Cyran glanced at Vakker, but it was difficult to parse the man’s thoughts on another guest joining them. Zarius looked friendly, but everyone here looked friendly on the surface.

“Not at all.” Cyran replied eventually, gesturing towards one of the empty chairs. “We were just taking a break from the crowd.”

He took a long sip from his drink, finishing off the glass and setting it down on a nearby table.

He figured it was better to address Vakker’s question now, just in case the man was digging for something. “And I’ll cut the bullshit. I don’t really have influence or wealth.” Not anymore, at least. “So it’s nice to receive an invitation, but I’m not quite sure why I’m here. I’m afraid I don’t have any connections to offer you besides myself.” He said that last part with a smile he hoped was polite.

Vakker just gave the newcomer his signature friendly smile and a small nod while Cyran welcomed him.

"Yes, please. Feel free. My name is Vakker." he introduced himself casually but with a polite, refined tone of voice.

He thought he may have seen this Tiefling before, when the man entered the party. Weren't they with someone? Where was that person now? Were they not a couple? Ah, they looked quite good together though. I would write a book about that, but there are already so many books about Tieflings. Something just so devilishly handsome about them. Is it the horns? Or is it the colors of the skin? I know I've gotten some looks since putting on this face paint, but that could just be me...

Vakker was silently thinking, musing about Tieflings, while Zarius chose a seat.

He looked back to Cyran and replied to their almost rant-like speech. It was a little disappointing to hear them saying they had no influence or idea why they were even here. But, there was no sense just throwing away someone he'd barely met and could still be interesting. Besides, he was taking a break. If this person wasn't a good connection to make, it didn't matter. He didn't sit on this couch to make connections. He would do that in the crowd. At least this person had been interesting. Even their small outburst had provided more excitement than the entire rest of the party so far.

"Well, if that's the case, then you must have been invited for simply being an extraordinary person on your own. I wouldn't say no to your offer."

Zarius nods to the pair and takes a seat across from them. He rests an arm over the back of the chair and crosses one leg over the other while listening to their conversation. It seemed like the two had just met as well.

Cyran came off quite blunt and short with his words which could easily be seen as being rude, but it was honestly refreshing to hear such blatantly curt honesty amongst all the flowery words of the noble braggarts present at the event. The man's costume was much more understated than some of the more flamboyantly dressed fowl strutting around like they own the place. 

Vakker was harder to get a read on, he had a very proper posture suggesting he either came from a higher class status or at the very least worked amongst them. Probably the latter. Something about his manner of speaking was like speaking to a business person. In fact, it seemed that was the topic they were discussing. 

The tiefling's ears perk up at the mention of Vakker seeking out connections which Cyran was lacking. He turns his golden eyes on the man dressed as a devil and eyes him with interest. He was a satyr, was he not? He tries to remember if he's ever heard of the man, but he draws a blank. Either he was new on the scene, or he preferred to keep anonymous in whatever his work was. 

"What sort of connections are you hoping to make here?" He asks. "There are plenty of powerful individuals here, however it will be difficult to get in their good graces unless you have something of value to offer them."

He then looks at Cyran. The elf had admitted fully that he had little influence or wealth which struck him as strange why he would be invited. It was true this was a very high profile party, but there were many others who did not fit the bill of being nobility. He had his own suspicions of the ball's true purpose, but nothing was confirmed as of yet. Perhaps the elf had some suspicions as well. "This party's guest list is curious to say the least, if you had to guess, why do you think you were invited?"

Cyran paused to consider Zarius’s question. “If I had to wager a guess I would say it’s because of my profession.” Though he still wasn’t quite sure that warranted an invitation, unless there was someone here that needed something discreetly taken care of… that line of thought was probably paranoia, though. It definitely wasn’t something he should voice in polite company.

It did leave him curious as to what influence the other two had to earn invitations. Vakker admitted he hadn’t put much thought into his costume, but his suit was rather nice, and Zarius looked like he could pass for royalty. Cyran hoped he hadn’t inadvertently insulted nobility.

Zarius had a point, though. From the little socialization Cyran had done before settling down and starting conversation with the others, there were a wide range of folk here. Vakker was a smooth talker and clearly had no issues talking business, and from looks alone he couldn’t quite figure out Zarius’s profession, but he had a feeling they were all from vastly different circles. Not that he minded- it was refreshing company, and not what he expected to find tonight. “It seems that our hosts just have eclectic tastes in partygoers. At least it gives them the chance to network.”

"Yes, it is quite the mix, isn't it?" Vakker replied to Cyran, swirling the wine in his glass slightly.

He looked at him, his head facing their direction, but his eyes swept the crowd. It surely was an odd mixture of individuals. Many of them honestly seemed out of place. Of the guests he knew, there were people from all sorts of professions. Merchants, nobles, government officials. None of them stood out as someone who shouldn't be at an event like this, but none of them seemed like they had any specific reason to be there either. How curious.

He wanted to ask Cyran about their profession, but thought it would be better to allow it to stay unsaid. Sometimes it was better to let things rest instead of inviting unwanted trouble. He got the sense that they weren't saying their profession for a reason and it wouldn't do them any good to pry. Instead, he just turned his attention to Zarius.

"Something of value to offer them?" he repeated coolly.

"What, might I ask, can you offer?" he asked innocently, in a voice that was just curious and not trying to insult.

His smile was gentle and seemed to just be trying to invite conversation.

Vakker may not be keen on pressing the matter, but Zarius is not as cautious about prying such details from the newly acquainted company. 

"What profession would that be, if you do not mind me asking?" Zarius asks the elf.

The answer, or lack there of would be telling enough. He was well versed in shady business himself and knew the various tells those cut from shiftier cloth had. This man claimed to be a no-body, yet he was here amongst all kinds of interesting folk and high class citizens. He rather doubts the elf is just some random civilian. 

He glances at Vakker as the satyr asks his question. The tiefling grins at him with a mischievous glint in his eye. "That depends on what services you are interested in. I know a fair number of folk present here, if you wish to be introduced to them, I would be happy to oblige. Though I would not want to waste their time. So, I ask again, what kind of connections are you looking to make?"

Vakker may look the part of a devil, but Zarius was closer to the real thing than he was. The tiefling hadn't ignored the fact that Vakker danced around his question from earlier. In fact, he took special notice of the attempt to avoid answering it. The satyr was trying to get information from the conversation without offering any in return. Zarius wasn't about to play his game so easily, instead attempting to lure the man into his own game. 

“I’m a hunter.” Cyran said carefully, as close to the truth as he was willing to get when there were others within earshot. Based on the knowing glint in the tiefling’s eye, perhaps he already suspected what Cyran’s answer meant.

Neither of his other companions had been entirely straightforward about their own jobs, as if they were dancing around in circles waiting for the other one to step forward first. It gave him an opportunity to sit back and do what he did best- sit back, blend into the shadows, and observe.

He crossed one leg over the other, looking between the two as he sipped his wine. “What about you, Zarius? You mentioned that you’re familiar with a fair number of people here.”

Vakker's eyes narrowed and smile widened slightly as he watched the Tiefling openly deny answering his question. Clearly, they knew this game too well. He couldn't take without giving anything in return. Well, if he wanted to play, Vakker would play. He enjoyed games. He latched onto Cyran's question, hoping to use it to dig a little into the man.

"Yes, do tell. Cyran and I would both love to know." he said just a touch of assertively.

He finished his glass of wine and locked eyes with Zarius, his icy blue irises contrasting entirely with his warm smile. He wanted Zarius to know he knew the Tiefling was on to his trick. He wouldn't be giving away anything about himself unless he received something more than worth the information. Perhaps the Satyr was closer to a devil than the Tiefling believed, though a devil of ice and snow rather than fire and brimstone.

Oh, this satyr thought he was being sly. He leveraged Cyran's inquiry without hesitation and now the odds had shifted in his favor.

These two clearly were guarded with their personal information, much like himself. So, it only stands to reason they have things to hide which could be easily used against them.

Cyran claimed to be a hunter. It wouldn't be far fetched to assume what he hunts was of an illegitimated nature, or that those he hunted for were of the criminal persuasion. 

Vakker was still a wild card, but he definitely knew what the tiefling was up to so they must work in similar circles. It was annoying to meet someone who used similar tactics as himself. But he would be lying if it wasn't a little fun as well. 

The satyr still hadn't given him anything to work with, but pressing him for an answer would just result in them talking in circles all night. Fine. He would give him this round. 

He considered for a moment using one of his many cover stories, and any other day he would. The problem was that there were many others in attendance who knew an alarmingly intimate amount of information about his true nature and identity. If he lied to either of these two and they were to cross check their information, it would quickly cause unnecessary drama. Best to just be vague instead. 

"I am an adventurer of sorts, and I know many of the folk here thanks to my travels." He thinks for a moment. "Most of them I would say I get along with fairly well with only a few select exceptions."