St.Paddy's Day Masquerade, In The City Hall Ball Room

"Don't mind at all, mate," he replied in an oddly jovial tone when Killian cut in, vexing for anyone who knew Spike that he would respond so flippantly to being publicly emasculated. "You two kids have fun."

But that second line, offered in the countenance of a smile, was a big fat red herring. ...while you still can was the unsaid ending of his statement, and if Killian had been even remotely privy to Spike's capabilities in spite of their age difference, he may have not made the mistake of disregarding the leather-clad demon's words as more than a minor insult in referring to the sheriff as a "kid."

Spike disappeared into the crowd impassively, leaving Dawn alone to deal with this irruptive vampire who she clearly wanted nothing to do with. He hoped she wouldn't be too upset with him for not lifting a dead finger to help -- maybe even pick up on the veiled threat of his words and see that he had his own plans for Killian -- but either way, the game being played by the Animinus wouldn't remain a secret to anyone for very long.

And so, the vampires had switched roles, for it was then the sheriff dancing with Dawn Summers (albeit, against her will) and Spike who silently observed from a distance. Unlike Killian, however, the biding blond wasn't seething in rage or even upset at the appalling treatment of the girl. He just... nodded, and continued wearing a confident smile that suggested Killian was only making it easier for him to do what he already intended on doing.

By the time the eventful "dance" concluded, Spike decided that he had grown sufficiently weary of the function even though his time there had been short-lived; perhaps because the party was most definitely not going to get anymore entertaining than that. Before taking his leave, he brushed shoulders with Killian on both of their respective paths. "Women, right?" he asked/stated without stopping to converse any further, continuing toward that same spot where Dawn had been left alone.

"I'm taking off, but I have this funny feeling I'm going to want to talk to you about something real soon. Where are you staying these days, Nib... Dawn?"

The news of the masquerade didn't go unheard of by those three who made Ragnarok home. In fact, Stefan had heard about it on the news the night it had been broadcasted, but his intentions were to brush it off. Anything titled Masquerade dug far too deep into memories that cut like knives when they were brought to the surface. Attending it was the least of his priorities until the date had come and several hours into the event had passed. It had been nagging at the back of his mind since the day started. That tonight there was a chance to run into some of the people he was hoping he'd see in a setting that could be easily explained away if it came down to it. He found himself wanting to be there. If only to check in on them and have some information on what plans, if any, they'd managed to come up with regarding their current situation. Elena loved her parties and masquerades were one of her favorites. He wondered if she would be there. And if she was. Nine times out of ten, Damon would be drug along for the ride if only to watch out for her well-being. As the hours went by, he was getting himself ready to attend before he realized what he was doing. Several masks were laid out on the bed behind him, none of them chosen. Their silk ribbon ties mingled in with one another as they were tossed past his shoulder and left to be forgotten about. Those were for other times that felt long-gone now. A simple black, tailored suit and a thin green tie would do.


The idea of going had come so quickly, he didn't have the chance to ask Rebekah to attend with him. He wanted her there, they'd never seen much of one another outside the confines of the club. It was time to enjoy her company away from there. So, instead, he left a voicemail on her cell. "Rebekah. This is Stefan. Will you do me the honor of attending this Saint Patrick's Day Masquerade as my companion? I know it is last minute, but if you have the time, call me back. I'll meet you on the stairs. I do hope to see you."


As he approached City Hall, Stefan glanced over the outside to watch the attendees coming and going. Humans, vampires, whatever else. All mingled together in a facade of community to meet and greet one another. The idea made him smirk, shaking his head as he climbed the steps towards the door. Green eyes went to faces here and there, as he mused on what his father would think of the current day and age. Where the vampires were now some sort of fascinating revelation to the humans they were once so amused by, or loved, or feared. Their existence no longer a secret. And the hunters that now preyed on them were almost a joke of their former glory. All of their work had come crashing down on them, the years of hatred had become absurd to the versed, intelligent people of present day society. Even now, hunters like the Founders of Mystic Falls still existed, but their crusade was a pointless battle in a world that really didn't need them to be it's saviors. Enough of that, he was here now. Surrounded by a city of vampires he hadn't taken the time to meet or get to know. His personal world had enough troubles and kept him far too busy to bother. Now. It was showtime. A hand came up to rub the back of his neck as he took in a deep breath and entered into the building with a nod to the doormen that waved him inside.


Once surrounded by other creatures and dozens of conversations, his mind cleared itself and he began to pick through the faces. Hoping to spot someone familiar and attending the rather gaudy event would not be in vain.

"Look, I'm really not sure why I let you drag me to this event" She was getting out of her car from the parking lot, placing on her heels. Priya tried her hardest not to move her head much, that way her braided bun with sparkles and green leaves would not mess up.

'Why didn't you use the valet service' the dead man asked, but Priya didn't reply. She had never trusted valets and wasn't about to just to seem elegant or come off classy. Besides for that it gave her a little time to talk to the spirit which had been bugging her for months now. She had made the mistake of touching him and pushing him hard into a book case at a bookstore. Ever since then he had been following her like a puppy saying things like 'no one's able to touch me, how is it you can' and 'you know your a life saver i thought i'd have to live a horrible miserable death. Do you know what it's like not being able to touch anyone?'


Priya didn't even know how it was she managed to put up with the dead guy for so long, but in a way he became like an informant. Somehow she had managed to receive an invite to this Masquerade and she was inclined to to throw it away till he stopped her, said it might be good for her to go and to just trust him. Even on the way here, he hadn't said much about what she was suppose to be looking for, just to be observant and try to relax. When something supernatural pops up she feels weird, like wanting to puke weird. When more than one supernatural thing pops up she get's really bad headaches. What she hadn't realized was she was about to walk into a room of what would seem like mostly supernatural beings. Of course Priya had no idea the supernatural was connected with her migraines. The dead man disappeared as she approached the building.

Priya's dress hugged her body just the right way. It showed off her curves and her chest with out showing off too much and the bottom was loose enough to sway with the light breeze or if she was twirled if she danced. She started to feel nauseous right away as she was let it. Soon she felt her heel twist the side as she tripped.As a result from tripping she fell into the back of a man that had recently entered and the room soon made her feel dizzy, really dizzy. She needed to try to relax, but her vision was getting blurry.

Priya of course, hidden behind her mask and fancy dess played it off and continued to walk, but very slowly. She turned slowly around stopping catching a glimpse of herself in a mirror. The green henna tattoo still beautiful and vibrant. It went across the right side of her neck, across her face, and disappeared behind her mask. Just as she was thinking 'i barely recognize myself' she apparently hadn't managed to relax enough. Two minutes inside and before even being able to say hello to anyone, she collapses from the dizziness.

Rebekah had heard about the ball and despite her family's infamous love of such things, she had decided to give it a miss. She had no interest in vampire politics, there was no way that she was going to be kissing the arse of some sheriff or so-called queen where there were not such things in her world, never had been, and to ask someone like her to be inferior to someone who was probably younger and almost certainly less powerful than she was was utterly ridiculous, not to mention a huge insult. What right did these Ugenta vampires have to enforce the way that they lived on everybody else? She did not want it, and there was no way that she was going to submit to it. She was an Original vampire. An entire line of vampires had come from her family alone, she was one of the first...and they were the most powerful, in her book. There were more vampires out there than these up themselves politicians knew, and Rebekah was willing to guess that very few of them wanted this either. She did not have a sheriff, there was no king or queen that she had to bow to. She was a Mikaelson, and she would continue to act as she wished, just as she had always done. It wasn't as though there was any punishment they could exact on her that would actually stick. The worst thing was sticking her in a coffin again, and her brother was the only one who possessed the dagger to do that – and if anybody hurt her, they would have him to answer to. Rebekah did not need protecting, not even slightly, but Niklaus was her big brother, and he was not the sort of person that anybody wanted to be on the bad side of. Not now, not ever. They were a powerful family, and people were unwise if they forgot that, just plain ignorant if they had never known.

She hadn't been planning to attend at all, but then she had received a message from Stefan on her phone and oh, well—perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. There were plenty of things that she would rather have been doing, Rebekah was sure of that, but ultimately, the idea of Stefan's company appealed more than sitting in her room alone did, listening to the grating thud-thud-thud of Ragnarok's music. She'd been here a while, now, and Rebekah was still not used to how that sounded. She didn't think it was something that she would ever enjoy. As things were at the moment, she'd have done anything to have some of Stefan's company, her feelings for him not lessening however much she worked to keep them subdued, and perhaps there would be worse things in the world than a party. It was an excuse to make Nik buy her a new dress, after all, to find a masquerade mask and some decent shoes, to do her hair and make-up, and those were always things that Rebekah enjoyed. She might have been dead for ninety years, but she thought that she was doing well enough at knowing what sort of fashions were around, now. Her chosen dress was a dark jade green, the shawl she was wearing – despite the fact that she did not feel the cold – and her mask both black, her hair tied up. She let one of the doormen take the shawl as she entered the building, looking around for a moment as she searched for Stefan; she had not replied to his message, but had instead chosen to meet him here. Instead, she watched as some girl checked her reflection in a mirror and then fainted, apparently so overtaken by the way in which she looked. Really? Attention seeking whore. Rebekah stepped over the girl's body without bothering to see if she was alright, given that she didn't care in the slightest, and headed for the stairs, holding her mask a little way away from her face as she approached Stefan. “A little tacky, isn't it?” She'd been to better balls, undoubtedly.

“Gate crashing “ seems the word was designed for people with dubious intentions, people like himself who just loved to ruin everyone’s fun depending on the party itself and his mood. He sauntered into the ballroom wearing his best suit but he decided to forgo the usual green affair that was expected of all the sheep present. As if daring someone to approach him a little pinch was hardly anything to worry about, afterall he was basically a sadomasochist at this point what with the beatings he’s received from several different parties. It was a wonder he still had bones to break and of course the fact that he was still alive was a testament to how resilient he could be.

Ethan cast a wary glance towards the crowd and spotted two people he simply did not want to cross paths with namely Spike, but the slayers baby sister …Now there was an interesting notion perhaps he could spare a few minutes of his time just to dance with the young beauty. However he had to cut through a brutish Billy Idol wanna-be just to have the opportunity but he felt that it would be worth it. Even if it did cut his chances of survival in half, he was still willing to go the distance. Ethan made his way to them blending in with the teaming masses converging on the dance floor. He finally approached them but instead of doing what he had set out to do he merely stood there and listened to their conversation, from the sound of it they were deep in discussion and he was almost certain that they wouldn’t even notice him of course he has been wrong before.

“Point of no return” he thought suddenly in a rather upbeat mood it could have been the liquid courage he imbibed before attending this blasted party or perhaps it was the collective energy of the room, whatever it was he was definitely picking up on some good vibes.

Her public display of "affection" had taken him by surprise. Judging by his body language, he was far from pleased with her. Killian even had the nerve to bring her mother into it. "You have no right to speak her name." It was hard for Dawn to think about Joyce Summers. Not that she had died, but more along the lines of thinking about the disappointment that her mother would have knowing about her recent life choices. Killian casually lifted the saliva from his mask and promptly returned it to its owner, smearing it across the front of her dress. Great. Now I have to pay for dry cleaning, she thought. The vampire was quick to turn her around, pulling her back against his body before he leaned his head in close to hers. The words that escaped his lips sent a chill down her spine. As she felt his lips press against her cheek, Dawn couldn't help but tense up with fear. The moment that Killian left her side was not soon enough, Dawn felt completely gutted.

Dawn's immediate thought shifted to Willow. Somehow he had found out about what she had told Willow in the hospital. There was no way that Dawn could let anything happen to her friend, especially if this was all a result of her own actions. Of course she wanted to follow through with Eric's orders. She cared about him, and hoped that their tryst would result in something more. Dawn couldn't bear the thought of disappointing him. Spike had begun to approach following her dance with Killian. Her hand slipped into her purse and pulled out her iPhone. Within seconds she was in the process of sending a text message to her red-headed witch friend. Hopefully Willow would check her phone. Dawn slipped the phone back into her purse and redirected her attention to Spike. Apparently he had something that he wanted to discuss with her. It wouldn't exactly come as a shock to her if the topic of that conversation was Killian Brandt. She would nod in acknowledgment. "Yeah, I need to take off too. The bastard ruined my dress," Dawn said as she pointed down to the front of her saliva stained dress. "Buffy and I have an apartment in the East Village." Once again Dawn reached into her purse and pulled out a pen. She reached out and took Spike's hand so that she could write her address on his palm. "Now don't lose this. I don't give out my information to just anyone," Dawn said with a friendly smile.

Spike had a way of making all of the other problems in her life just disappear, if even for a couple minutes. Dawn knew that he would always be a dear friend, someone that she could confide in. She wanted to tell him about Willow, perhaps have him go look for the witch to see if she was alright. There was no way that she could drag him into it tonight, at least not at this event. Dawn casually looked around the party once more, trying to see where Killian had stalked off to. It seemed like he had returned to his co-hosts side. She would roll her eyes. As Dawn began to redirect her attention back to Spike, her eyes fell upon a familiar figure who was standing off along the edge of the dance floor behind Spike. Ethan Rayne, could my night get any worse? The last time Dawn heard about Ethan was when Buffy had told her that he was taken to prison. He turned Giles into a Fyarl demon and then the Initiative carted him off. Dawn also had the unfortunate experience of shopping at Ethan's halloween shop in Sunnydale. She and her middle school friends were big on the Spice Girls back then. So, she spent an evening doing her best impression of Posh Spice. Of course, there were worse alternatives. These memories were fabricated of course, thanks to the monks that put her into human form. Dawn refocused her attention on Spike in hopes that Ethan wouldn't come over and initiate a conversation. "Ethan Rayne is here. Don't turn around, maybe he'll harass someone else."

"Hey!"

Cassandra grinned up at him, not even realising that he might feel awkward about the blood thing. To her, it had seemed perfectly normal. Of course, now the whole blood thing was going to play a different role in tonights proceedings. While most of the vampires present probably wouldn't be able to tell he had fairy blood, she was positive that all of them would catch a whiff of his intoxicating scent. Last thing she wanted was for Nick to end up being drained by some vampire with control issues. Did he not understand that his blood was as good as vampire crack?

"It was kind of one of those spur of the moment things. I heard about it, and just kind of felt drawn out, you know?"

The little vampire rolled her eyes. Well, at least now she knew that all those rumours about fairies being risk-takers was apparently true. She was about to suggest very politely that staying at the party might be a bad idea when he spoke again.

Okay, I swear this is the only awkward question tonight, but... Do blood popsicles really taste okay? I mean, I thought the warmer the better."

Wait... what?

Cassandra opened her mouth to respond, before rather promptly closing it again. A look of confusion crossed her youthful face. She hadn't actually tried the appetisers on offer, but one would assume that frozen blood would taste awful. She glanced towards the aforementioned popsicles, her mission to get Nick out of the party forgotten.

"I don't know. To be honest... it would probably be pretty horrid..." she replied, making a face. Yes, blood popsicles would taste awful.

"How about you? This doesn't seem like your kind of thing, though your mask is pretty awesome."

She grinned up at him again, pleased that he liked her mask. She'd loved it the minute Felix got it for her in Venice and for a while she had wanted to wear it whenever she could. Being able to use it again after centuries of keeping it safe reminded her of all the fun she used to have attending the balls and parties her guardians took her to. She shrugged slightly at Nick's question. Ever since the Great Revelation, parties had become a little more accesible to her. Of course, looking ten made things a little difficult on occasion, but she'd been dealing with that for centuries.

"Thank you, and I'm mostly here to support my progeny... one of the vampires I made," she replied, correcting herself slightly. She wasn't sure if Nick would understand 'progeny' and really couldn't think of another way of putting it without sounding melodramatic. She pointed Killian out, easily spotting the blonde German in the crowd.

"He's one of the hosts for tonight," there was no denying the hint of pride in her voice. Despite their differences, Cassandra was proud of what Killian had done with himself. She looked back up at Nick, a sudden thought coming to her.

"Do you want to dance?"

He nodded, glad he'd made the right call. Yeah, the idea of blood popsicles - inherently 'ew' thanks to the whole blood part, but double 'ew' since he knew how blood was supposed to be prepared. Thirty seconds in a microwave could make a whole world of difference between true blood tasting like stale cardboard, and tasting like fresh... well, cardboard. He knew they tolerated it only because it was the acceptable thing to do, but he also knew how a diet of rice cakes would make him feel. Sure, it'd sustain him, but damn if it wouldn't taste like... again... cardboard.

After a while, you needed a change, and Nick respected that.

He turned slightly, to note Killian. He nodded, having seen the two of them together with the scarier-looking woman earlier.

"That's good, then. Support, I mean." He said, as he tried to watch him. He was currently enamored with someone(s), a girl and a very, very blond man, though he clearly wasn't interested in the guy. Nick smiled back at her. Secretly, he was glad she'd taken pity on him - he'd never heard 'progeny' before, and so that was a brand new word to add to his vocabulary. He wouldn't ask to go in to detail.

"Also, awesome that he's hosting, too. This is a great idea!" He said cheerful in the extreme. No one seemed to have gone nuts yet, and while some people were clearly more interested in the spectacle than the actual vampire-human interaction, he was glad to see that it wasn't nearly as monumentally scary as it could be. He really had expected this to go a lot worse than it was, and people - supernatural or otherwise - seemed to be getting along fairly well.

A few snide remarks here and there, mostly going unnoticed, were not going to ruin anything more than a conversation, provided they weren't said in front of the wrong people. Then again, vampire hearing was great.

He looked startled, back at her. He hadn't anticipated her asking him to dance, but after a hesitant smile, he nodded. "Absolutely." Okay, so, sure, it might be a little weird dancing with what appeared to be an eight year old, but he knew the score, and other people would just think it was him being nice, spending time with her.

But it was more genuine than that. He actually liked Cassandra's company, and her perspective was a really unique one. Eight year olds didn't get taken very seriously, even if they were two-thousand. So she had the perspective of both the downtrodden, and the people in power. ( He was sure she'd had to flex her strength every now and again, but again, no details necessary. )

Part of him wanted to ask her if she wanted to stand on his shoes - not for any annoyingly misogynistic reason, but so that he wouldn't accidentally step on her feet.

"Though, I warn you now, I don't know how. I fully expect to trip and fall, or step on someone." He offered her a hand. "But what can I say? I'm a risk taker." The thought still hadn't crossed his mind, that perhaps a room full of vampires was not the place for a fairy that smelled... well, fairy-like. After a second, he added. "You can stand on my shoes if you like." Of course, she could also fly, and that would keep her pretty well safe from misplaced feet, but it also might cause people to stare.

Either way, it was going to be an amusing dance nonetheless. Why was he feeling so... outgoing today? He didn't know, but for now, he liked it.

Stefan's attention had been busy on the dance floor, watching the couples move with the music. Their arms wrapped around one another, some lost in the moment while others obviously were very aware of their surroundings and doing the same he was. Picking through the faces of possible friends and enemies. Vampire politics and paranoia were never really something he liked to put himself among, even more so given his current situation, but yet here he was. It was time to learn about the vampires that made New York City home. A chance to meet an ally or two who may come in handy in the near future couldn't be passed up. Especially when he had the benefit of anonymity on his side. Stefan froze when he caught sight of someone he certainly hadn't expected to see with someone he'd never met. Emerald eyes had locked on them firmly as his brows knitted in confusion. She was alone here, no Damon, no Alaric. What the hell was Elena doing here? By herself. No escort from the two people who were supposed to be protecting her. Into an entire nest of undead. Did she really have -that- much of a death wish?

A vampire passed by, a thin middle aged man who Stefan had seen on the evening news. The King of New York City, he recalled. King. The title was a bit cheesy. Stefan dipped his head in a nod to the vampire and watched him walk off towards a gang of what looked like supporters from this American Vampire League. He thought about turning to leave the area and put as much distance as he could between him and Elena so he at least listen in on Elena's conversation to find out what she was doing here. And that she left alive. Stefan blinked, caught off guard as Rebekah came up alongside of him and took in a deep breath before looking at her with a smile that stretched over his mouth. He didn't know if his message would get through by the end of the night, a part of him had started to give up hope she may join him. A look of surprise lingered in his wide gaze as he turned to face her and instantly offered her his arm. "Rebekah.." That stare softened into being grateful to see her as he felt her small hand slip into the crook of his arm.

"Gaudy doesn't even begin to cover it. I never have seen so much..green..in one place at one point in time. Have you come to many of these little gatherings? Are they all this bad? Thank you for coming on such short notice." Stefan reached up, tracing the tip of his finger across the delicate lace of the mask she held in her hand before it curled towards his palm and lowered to collapse over her hand. "You look lovely." He pressed his lips together and looked out over the dance floor, eyes passing by Elena and suddenly he wished he could force her to leave. No such luck. When he met Rebekah's gaze, he canted his head to the side and nodded towards the bar area. "Shall we, then? I do owe you a drink or two for dragging you to something like this. Besides. Some alcohol might wash this down a little easier. Hopefully... Then. You can teach me a few things..." His hand curled upon her's flexed before releasing it as he stepped backwards and stretched out an arm to properly offer his escort by outstretched fingers pointed loosely to the ceiling as he bowed his shoulders and smiled gently.

Rebekah and her brothers – whichever of them had been alive at that point in time – had thrown a lot of balls, in the past. She liked organising them, making sure that everything was up to the standard that she expected it to be, and there was little that was better than seeing people wearing beautiful clothes, enjoying themselves at something that she had organised. Balls were supposed to be classy, they were supposed to have good music and even better company, and of course you got a few questionable people here and there, those who'd been invited via connections but who didn't really belong, but Rebekah had always been able to make her events exclusive. It had been a long time since she had done anything like that; if this was what counted as a ball, now, Rebekah didn't think that she was going to be hosting one any time soon. She had other things to worry about, at any rate, and she had no real desire to do so; she didn't have enough friends here, anyway, to want to go to that effort, when she could spend time with Stefan without having to do so. She was enjoying the fact that she and Stefan seemed to be close again, undoubtedly. Everything just heated up when she was near him, a touch was electric, and it was for that reason that she had deigned to attend this thing, not because she thought the idea was good (it wasn't; why did people even celebrate the day of someone who wasn't even the saint of their country?), or because she gave a crap about vampire politics (she didn't; it was a waste of time, and she was an Original, she couldn't have cared less about these people with their pretentious titles and the jumped up idea that they might actually have some power over her, which was ridiculous). She was here because Stefan had asked her to come.

She could put up with the tacky decorations and the people that she didn't want to talk to if it meant that she got to spend a while on Stefan's arm, she thought; Rebekah didn't quite know what was happening between the two of them, where it was headed, if his feelings were as strong as hers were, but she was caught up in it anyway, unwilling to take a step back and really evaluate what was going on. She wanted to spend time with him. She loved him, her feelings not having faded even a little in the ninety years that she'd been dead, given that it had been no time at all for her, and she didn't know if she would have picked him over her brother, anymore, but she hoped that she would never have to find out. Nik was her family, always and forever, and he meant more to her than almost anything else, but the way that Stefan made her feel...Rebekah had always craved love, and Stefan gave that feeling to her. And Nik was always so busy, anyway; Rebekah could have friends if she chose to, she could have lovers, and she wanted Stefan. She really wanted Stefan; the fact that she had chosen to come to think thing when he'd asked proved that, did it not? “I don't think I've ever attended anything quite so...green,” she replied, inclining her head at his thanks; there were better places for them to be, but she was sure that this would suffice. They would drink and dance and talk, and it would all be good. “Thank you.” She smiled, turning her head to see who he was looking at, but not recognising anybody, before she nodded in agreement. “A little champagne will make this easier to stomach, I'm sure,” she agreed, taking his arm and heading towards the bar. Champagne made everything easier. “And then we shall dance.”

“I don't think I've ever attended anything quite so...green. A little champagne will make this easier to stomach, I'm sure. And then we shall dance.”

"Dance? It's been a while. I wonder if I forgot how to?" Stefan smiled, his gaze flickering over Rebekah's as he was guided towards the bar. He walked alongside her, taking the time to cover her hand that rested on his arm with his own. A brush of his fingertips across her skin followed as they mingled their way through the little cliques here and there til they came to a stop against the solid oak frame of the bar top. Drinking would be a welcomed way to numb the growing awareness that vampires were not the only things which attended the event. There were plenty of humans here, their desire for their masters and mistresses was thick in the air. Willing participants in a game that could end up with them dead..or worse. The thirst in him hadn't ebbed like it was beginning to do or had done with other vampires around him. In fact, he stayed the same as the Ripper clung to his need to taste life and death flowing from flesh into his mouth. It was like whatever had fueled them to lose their minds in their nature was embraced so wholeheartedly that it might never be let go of. When they paused, a rather well dressed bartender hurried their way and Stefan gave the man a half-glance as he let go of Rebekah's arm and instead let his fingertips trail down the back of her arm to tangle in with her fingers instead.

"Two glasses of champagne and a double Scotch, please?" One for the lady, two for the gentleman tonight. Stefan flinched his grip on Rebekah's hand, giving it a squeeze and then relaxing but still keeping hold of it as he turned to face her and waited for their drinks. "I thought it would be a good idea to see what these other vampires are all about. If this is it, then I really don't think we have too much to ever be concerned about. Seeing as how they can barely organize a proper event." He smirked, canting his head to the side and giving the dance floor a quick look. Why was Elena still here? The longer into the night that she waited to leave, the greater the chances were that something might happen to her. Vampires got more hungry over time and their courtesy that was extended to those who entered the door as mortals earlier in the evening might not be enough to ensure they would leave unharmed at the end. His hand guided Rebekah towards his side just a little more close. "You haven't been at least the slightest bit curious as to what all these vampires are like? Or what they might know about us..or Klaus?"

Did those around him know the story of the hybrid? Or the Originals or what powers they had? If their bloodlines were so unique and apart from each others..what sort of abilities did these creatures have? The most important matter was..were these slightly tacky, strangely political vampires any sort of threat to them? Stefan was about to express his ideas when he was cut off by a movement from the corner of his eye.

"Here you are, sir." The drinks were slid across the wet counter towards the two of them. Bubbles ran up the inside of their crystal glasses that were filled to the brim with Rebekah's drink of choice for the evening. But it was the Scotch that was hefted up first. The drink was slammed, empty in a blink of an eye before he plucked up the flute glass and canted his head to the side for her to do the same in return. Tonight, Rebekah would be his companion in the vampire funded masquerade. It was one of the only times he managed to have her with him outside of the club. The base of the glass was tilted towards himself as he inclined his free arm in an offering of a toast. "For you. And your willingness to entertain me in what would be a rather boring, awkward night without you here."

They would be better off leaving this party and finding their entertainment elsewhere, Rebekah thought. They could find themselves a couple of humans, drink until they were full and then dance to their hearts' content somewhere that wasn't full of tacky green decorations that looked as though they'd been hung by a bunch of children. The humans that were here tonight were clearly those that were considered to be protected, for some reason or another, as this was predominantly a vampire event, and Rebekah just had to hope that the music, at least, would be better than the décor, and there would be something that was worth dancing to, because really, what was the point of a ball if there was not dancing? It wouldn't have surprised her one bit if that was forgotten, though, because it didn't seem that the people who'd organised this really had much idea of what they were doing, unfortunately. Everyone was clustered in little groups, presumably talking to the people that they already knew, and it was dull. Even with Stefan's presence here, it was dull, although Rebekah decided that perhaps she should stop viewing this as a ball, but just a place to spend time with Stefan. If they had happened to go out for a meal, after all, whether in the human or vampire sense of the word, they would not have expected anybody else to talk to them, would they? She would just ignore the other people here, and focus on him, instead; he was the one that she wished to talk to, after all, the one that she wanted to dance with, and she smiled at his comment. “Oh, I'm sure you will remember quickly,” she reassured him, watching the man at the bar prepare their drinks. “If not, I shall simply have to teach you.”

Dancing and champagne should have been enough to take Rebekah's mind off her hunger, she thought; there were humans here, although fewer in number than the vampires, and she could have let herself recognise that, but she was determined to have a good evening before she felt the need to go and rip somebody's throat out. This might not have been the sort of party that she wanted to be at, but it was a party nevertheless, she had an outfit for it, and she had good company; there were worse things that she could have been doing with her time, regardless of the fact that she had initially decided that she wasn't going to be attending. Stefan, though...Stefan could get her to do a lot of things that she didn't wish to, Rebekah imagined. She didn't really want to think of the implications of that, in all honesty. But she was here, and that was the main thing that mattered, wasn't it? “I'm not worried by them,” she said with a shrug; she had vaguely known that there were other sorts of vampires around, those which weren't from their bloodline but had started off in some other way, but it had never really been a concern. Rebekah was an Original. That was all that mattered, really. “I care not for their politics. I will not be a part of that.” She didn't answer to anybody except her brother, she certainly wasn't going to be bowing before someone younger and less powerful than she was. They could try and make her, but she was relatively certain that it would not end well for them. “If they are aware of Nik, then my brother can handle himself.” She wasn't worried for him, either; it wasn't important to her, as simple as that. There were better things she could be thinking about.

She picked up the flute of champagne, watching the bubbles for a moment before she smiled at Stefan, inclining her head a little. It was nice to do this outside of the club, she thought, somewhere that wasn't as home as she was likely to have. She smiled at the toast, adding a little teasingly, “And to your terrible taste in balls,” before she brought the glass to her lips and sipped.

Stefan couldn’t help but to smile a little at Rebekah’s obvious distaste on his choice of entertainment for the evening. He smirked, holding the champagne flute in his hand as he turned his attention beyond her towards the dozens of vampires wandering through the crowd. He wanted to see what surrounded them, who might be of interested and more importantly..who might stand to become a threat in the future if anyone took interest in their small group from Mystic Falls. Especially Klaus. Did any of these centuries old creatures understand what they had in their midst? Did they have any information on what Klaus was? Or even..how to end him? Eyes narrowed in thought as he brushed his elbow against Rebekah’s and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You may not want to get involved in their politics, Rebekah. But what do they know about us? And Klaus?” He gave Rebekah a quick smile and took a long draw off the glass. At least whoever planned this event could pick good alcohol, thankfully. He felt he was going to need it if Elena soon didn’t get the hell out of here and go on with the rest of her night. She didn’t belong in a situation like this and was a sitting duck in a sea of hunters. What were Damon and Alaric thinking letting her come to this place? Did they even know? He shook the idea off by finishing his drink and taking a step back from the bar.

“They have to have some much older than either one of us, don’t they? At least, we have some faces in mind should we run into them outside of such a cordial environment.” It was true, given the fact that they were all together under a political event would prove that these creatures would remain docile towards one another. But he’d seen first-hand how easily they would turn on one another if given the chance. Knowing who might end up an enemy was better than being completely off guard. Gaudy surroundings, terrible music, and everything else that was summed up in this Ball..at least it opened up an opportunity to catch a glimpse of what and who was around them. He had enough time to do that, staying longer would only end up in a confrontation that he really wasn’t prepared for.

Rebekah had hoped for a dance. How could he not oblige? Then, they could be off for the night, a text could be sent to Damon to tell him to get Elena out of where she didn’t need to be, and this would be over. “Alright, Miss Mikaelson. May I have the honor of this dance?” Stefan’s arm bent behind the small of his back as he bowed down and stretched out opposite arm towards her, offering a steady hand. His eyes remained on hers, a lift of his brow in questioning followed.

Rebekah had vaguely been aware of the fact that some vampires had sheriffs, but it had never been something that had affected her directly; not her kind of vampire, and there was no way that they would have been able to make her bow down to someone younger and less powerful than she was, anyway. The fact that those vampires were forcing it on everybody else was ridiculous, but it did seem to have been that way, didn't it, it did seem as though the Ugenta vampires were imposing their rules and regulations and desire to be out in public upon the rest of the vampire population, and it really was an imposition, because nobody else wanted it, nobody else gave a flying crap about whether there was royalty among them. These weren't vampires who had been born royal when they'd been human, after all; that would have been more excusable, but they would have had to be able to overpower her before she'd bow to them. Rebekah answered to nobody except her family. Their politics did not concern her, because they weren't her politics; they could try and make the rest of the vampires agree to having a sheriff, but it wouldn't work, because it wasn't the way that things were done for them. Rebekah had been around over a thousand years, she wasn't just going to decide that it was suddenly okay for someone to think themselves more superior than she was. It wasn't going to happen, and she'd kill them all before she'd actually accept it. They could take their sheriffs and shove them up their arses...but she wasn't worried by it. She was powerful, Niklaus was powerful, and Stefan was on their side, now, so they would protect him. That was what it came down to, in the end. “If they don't know of Nik now, they will soon. We can look after ourselves, it does not matter.” There was only one who knew how to kill them, and Rebekah had been able to run from Mikael from a very long time.

And she had no desire to think of that now, no wish to think of Mikael or the politics that surrounded this room. She didn't even wish to be here, particularly, but here was where Stefan had invited her and his company (and the free alcohol) would make it bearable, she was sure, at least until they could escape away on their own and not have to put up with how tacky this whole thing was. And maybe, at some point in the future, she would suggest to Nik that they host their own ball, because Rebekah knew for a fact that they could do it a hundred times better than this. That it wouldn't be so green would make it a hundred times better without them even having to try. But they were here, they had champagne, and she just wished to have a little fun. Rebekah didn't think that that was too much to ask, was it? Now, dancing, that was something that she was far more interested in than anything else, and to dance with Stefan...it was exactly what she wanted, she thought, right now. She smiled at his bow, inclining her head in response before she took his hand, hers resting on top of his. Far better, to be able to let the music wash over them and be in his arms, she thought, than anything else in the world. When she had first awoken, when she had learned that Stefan had gone good, this was something Rebekah had thought that she would never have again, and it had made her feel incredibly lonely. “You may,” she replied with a smile, moving to the centre of the floor and moving her other hand to his shoulder. “I feel as though you probably haven't forgotten how to dance as much as you claim.”