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Niko
Standing at around 6'4", Niko is muscular without being overly so, and rather rangy. His black hair has been cut close along the sides, short enough that only a hint of curl is visible. That curl springs to life at the top of his head, though, longer hair allowing the riotous tangles to be shown. Olive skin is unmarred by freckles or blemishes. His eyes are large and dark, and would be bovine-esque if they held less intelligence, beneath brows that bear a disturbing resemblance to a pair of caterpillars. Besides the brows, his oval face is dominated by a nose that would be aristocratically aquiline if it hadn't been broken at some point in the past. His voice, a pleasant baritone, frequently holds odd inflections, remnants of an accent that he can't quite shake. He looks to be somewhere in his early twenties.
Today, Niko is in a uniform of a vastly different type. Did he actually
go out and get a suit of armor? No. See, there are costume shops, and very
lightweight versions of the real thing. He still clinks when he walks,
though, which is a festively amusing side-effect of the whole setup. The suit
seems to be made of lightweight plassteel, and is, as should not come as a
surprise to those who know Niko, obnoxiously shiny. The armor has been
updated for the ages as well, in that the joints have been made much more
flexible--so Niko can dance. He has a sword at his side, though he'll be the
first to say that it's made of foam rubber. He also has a shiny cup attached
to the swordbelt. It's some form of plastic-esque material, with the words,
'My father went to the Middle Ages and all I got was this lousy grail'
written around the side.
Niko finally finishes settling his pseudo-armor into place. The makers of said
armor included all the happy straps, and he's been having a lot of fun
figuring them out. That's why we're going to be late. Yeah. "Maybe I
should've just gone as a paintbrush or something. Use my hair for the
bristles... that'd be easier."
Elasia is seated on the edge of the bed, tormenting Scutter with her tail. She
grins up at you. "You look wonderful though love. Besides, being late is
fashionable."
Niko creak-clatter-ambles over to the edge of the bed. Poor kitten, she's not
used to such weird noises--and from one of her people, no less. "Well, then,
maybe we could be -more- fashionable and not go? It's going to be -boring-,
hon. I'd rather stay here."
Elasia blinks, eyes rather sadly pitiful, like Scutter being told she has to stay by herself all day. But she just nods, "If you don't want to go we don't have to of course. Staying in for the evening's fine..."
Niko, fortunately, can sit on the bed, and does so, one plassteel-covered arm
coming to rest around your shoulders. "But you want to go, huh? Okay, okay.
I'll even dance. But I'll warn you, my feet are a little heavier in this
stuff..."
Elasia looks rather decidedly sheepish, "It does sound like an awful lot of
fun, maybe for just a bit perhaps?" She smiles at that last, lifting a
be-slippered foot. "I think there's enough padding here, I should be fine,
love."
Niko leans over to kiss your cheek, then creaks to his feet, reaching for his sword. Er, no. The accessory to his armor. Hm. This isn't going to work at all. Whatever we're going to call that thing in an attempt to avoid innuendo, he gets it. "Shall we go, then, m'lady dragon? I'd bow, but I'd likely fall over in a heap, and the noise'd scare the poor kitten."
Elasia
Although hardly one to stand out in a crowd of otherworldy diplomats, Elasia is
by no means unremarkable. Her facial features are curved without being overly
round, and slender without being skinny. Eyes of a brown so dark they're
almost black lurk merrily beneath expressive brows the same hue. Captured
back in a loose tail, her hair is a mass of flowing curls, and hangs to just
below her shoulderblades. She's relatively tall for a woman, at nearly six
feet; and like her face her body is curved without being round, and slender
without being skinny. Her skin is almost fair, but with a hint of olive tone
to it that keeps it from being quite so.
Elasia's costume is cheerful at least, rather goofy in fact. Her pants are a
neon-bright green with deeper green spots, and her hooded sweatshirt is in
the same pattern. The hood of the sweatshirt has been decorated with puffed
stitchery and padding to look like a cartoonish dragon's head, and when
pulled up over her curls, is presumably supposed to be her head. Attached to
her waist is a vastly overlong tail that matches the rest of the costume, and
ends in an arrow shaped tailtip. On her feet are a pair of oversized slippers
portraying clawed feet, and on her hands are oversized claw-gloves, although
the have a space for her hands to slide out of so she can use them. It's as
if a small child had chosen to dress as a dragon, the costume has a childlike
innocence to it.
Adorning the ring finger of her left hand is a ring, a delicate band of gold
crowned by a rich blue stone. The sapphire depths are topped with a milky
white star.
Elasia gives the cowering kitten one last bepawed caress and then rests her paw
in your gauntlet, rising with as much grace as may be managed in this get-up.
The smile she offers is almost blindingly sunny, obviously Ela really is
looking forward to this. "Bowing's uncalled for." She's all innocence though
as she asks, "Although if you -could- find it in your heart to vanquish me...
I'm an evil dragon after all Sir Knight..."
Aww, now Niko is really at a loss. He -wants- to... well, what he wants to do
much less g-rated than merely reaching for his sword, so it won't be
described. "Hon, I'll be glad to... vanquish you, but maybe after we get
back? We'll get kicked out of the hotel if we try too much vanquishing in the
ballroom, see..."
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Elasia laughs delightedly at your reaction, reaching up to hug you as best as
possible considering the various outfits. "The ball awaits, yes. If the
elevator's turned into a pumpkin, I get to hide."
Niko mumbles, "If the elevator's turned into a pumpkin, we can come back in
-here-." He returns the hug rather carefully, steel-clad arms and all, and
takes your hand as he heads for the exit.