This was the kind of swanky soiree that she would have loved to take Jia to as her date. They could have even had matching costumes; while she had originally intended to go in a variation of her normal attire — adding a khaki fedora to her khaki trench coat would have made an easy transition into the stereotypical private detective — Mei-zhen had convinced her it wasn't really dressing up if she was just wearing her every-day outfit. Particularly more so since she was, in fact, a private detective.

Instead, she had put in a little more effort into her costume and dressed as a yuki onna — a snow demon in the shape of a woman said to live in the snow-topped mountains just outside Republic City who would suck a wayward traveller's life force out of them and freeze them solid.

She had rented a beautiful, ice-blue silk kimono and used stage makeup to give her skin the appearance of being pale blue. Her shoulder-length black hair had been accentuated with false hair clips, extending her hair to nearly her knees. She couldn't understand why some women liked to have their hair this long; she felt like her head weighed as much as a lionmoose.

Her eyes couldn't be purple, but Mei-zhen reassured her that her natural eyes — a very pale grey-blue — made the illusion of a snow-woman more complete. And indeed, when she looked at herself in a mirror, she had a hard time recognising herself. Her freckles were almost entirely hidden by the blue makeup, and her usual cowlick was weighed down by the addition of a false hair clip. She still started every time she caught a glimpse of her own reflection.

Flashing her signature gap-toothed grin at a young server, Ling accepted the champagne flute of green... something handed to her, taking a few moments to marvel at the way it seemed to smoke and bubble. She took a sip, and was pleasantly surprised to discover it tasted of melon creme.

The downside to these big parties was that when you didn't have a date, you stood around like a nincompoop, hovering by the food. Though the table was sadly devoid of steamed barbecue pork buns, her food of choice, Ling helped herself to a generous serving of some bizarre concoction arranged in a disturbing fashion inside an artificial human rib cage that turned out to be — praise the spirits! — barbecue pork. Someone generously added a helping of white "brains" to it — which turned out to be mashed potatoes — and Ling was happy as a moosow in mud.

"Hello there, my name is Zong Wu. Yes, I am dressed as a penguin. How are you enjoying the party?

Ling just about flew up in the air when the penguin she found herself next to — and had thought was an unusual part of the decor — spoke with a loud, deep voice. On reflex, she put her hand over her heart as she regained her composure.

"Hello!" she managed to gasp out, laughing a little at her own reaction. "I thought I was supposed to be the scary one here." She laughed again, extending her free hand, the one not balancing her drink and small plate of food, out low for a handshake(flipper shake?). "Ling Yao. Don't know how I feel about the party, but this food is pretty good."

Songin is not a very creative Earthbender.

When told in the invitation to come dressed in a 'fantastical costume', the police officer crinkled his nose a bit. It seemed like a mockery to him to dress as a familiar spirit of various stories told to him by the traditions of his people, or even worse, appropriating other spirits of the other cultural nations. The choice to come dressed as an animal appealed to him even less than that of a famous spirit (which are not always in a form reproducible by a human body, one might add), which only left him with only one 'good' option considering the circumstances. It was time to take a blast into the past, as a Dai Li agent.

That's right, the officer of the law came to a costume party as... an older kind of (more sinister) policeman. Hopefully for his sake though, there are no actual Dai Li agents here, as they might take offense to closely replicating the style of their uniform. No laws were technically being broken of course, though perhaps in poor taste, and the Dai Li don't have that sort of reputation or jurisdiction anymore. No longer are they the secret police of Ba Sing Se, but more like glorified bodyguards to the monarchy.

If Songin is honest with himself, he doesn't even really know what he is doing at this party and hopes his choice of costume doesn't serve to make him stand out in the crowd. Nobody really enjoys unwanted attention, whether harmless or not. Maybe Songin was on the lookout for some indication of criminal involvement? Sure it's a likely and believable excuse... or maybe his reason for being here is a little more personal than he'd like to admit.

Junetso was more than likely here, and though they weren't together anymore and she hurt him, deep down he still loved her. He feels some measure of guilt, in the knowledge that his decisions had lead to her unhappiness, but is soothed slightly by her insistence that they are remaining friends. He only hoped that she hadn't moved on from him yet, it would hurt too much to see her with someone else here.

Attempting to get out of his own head, the Dai Li Songin walked over to fruit punch where he saw an oddly familiar otter penguin speaking rather loudly at a blue woman with unnaturally long hair. Perhaps she was intending to be a spirit? It wasn't one he was familiar with at least. At any rate, when filling a cup with the foggy red liquid, Songin started to realize who the otter penguin reminded him of, Mr. Wu.

Songin kept to himself, however, so as to not rudely interrupt their introductions to one another, as that seemed potentially rude and disorderly. His eyes though would dart around the crowd a bit, observing what the others were doing under his Dai Li hat.

The hairs on the back of Ling's neck stood, and she got the strangest feeling that someone was staring at her. Or, if not at her, at the penguin next to her. 

She looked up, her pale grey-blue eyes scanning the gathered, costumed crowd with interest. She wasn't particularly worried it was someone with nefarious intent. The Emissary of Fun had warned everyone they'd be kicked out for starting a ruckus, and after having a look at the green-tinted gentleman at the door, Ling was confident that such disturbances would be few and far between — if at all.

Eventually, her eyes came to rest on a man with a vaguely familiar green-and-gold robe, the symbol of the Earth Kingdom emblazoned on his chest. She would have passed over him — his choice of costume wasn't particularly surprising or strange, historical costuming seemed to be a popular choice in general despite the theme (and truth be told, she found the idea of the Dai Li pretty fantastical in and of itself; a secret society dedicated to brainwashing people? Wild!) — except for the fact that he seemed to be looking her way.

Or at least, she thought. It was hard to tell with the hat.

She raised a pale blue hand in uncertain greeting, figuring she was being surreptitious enough that if he wasn't looking at them it could be passed off as a benign gesture. 

Ichiro stepped foot into the hall, looking around. There didn't seem to be too many people here yet, and he carefully stepped inside. This wasn't really his scene. Normally, he would just go to work and go home, but a lot of people in his life said he needed to get out - Ren'ai, Ami, his parents... Ren'ai said she might show up; it was much more her scene than his. Besides, it was a costume party. What was he supposed to do with that? So, he threw something together and hoped the blue and white fabric draped along his body seemed like the water spirit that it was intended. That was a bit corny itself, because he was a Waterbender, after all. 

Honestly, he was horrible at this sort of thing and running a restaurant left him little time for doing things like making costumes, though he supposed he could have found someone to do it for him. Part of him wondered if this was a bad idea, but he was already here so it was a bit too late for that. He didn't see anyone he recognized, so he walked over to the buffet table. He grabbed something to drink, seeing a few people milling nearby - someone dressed as Dai Li, another dressed as a penguin (?) and a third person dressed as a snow demon. He didn't know them, so he just took a drink, and stood off the side as he surveyed the room.

The penguin and Dai Li seemed to know each other. Ling scooted carefully to one side to make room, taking care not to trip over her lovely kimono. "Erm, hello there!" she greeted him. Cops weren't exactly her favourite type of person, both as a former gangster and as a private investigator — though the latter, in particular, was usually the police disliking her since by and large cops viewed private investigators as unskilled, unqualified, and entirely too nosey meddlers. She didn't share this sentiment, obviously, and while she wasn't sure how this person felt she felt a little on edge; if it had just been a costume, that may have been one thing, but Zong Wu had mentioned not leaving his work behind which implied he was a for-real cop.

As she moved to the side, she noticed a handsome (objectively, anyway) young man glancing in their direction. He seemed hesitant, but this was a party, wasn't it? She beckoned to him, hand palm-down, and motioned for him to come over.

"Hey!" she called out, flashing her gap-toothed grin. "Don't be shy, come on over!"

It would seem that if a wolf dresses as a wolf, people shall recognize it for what it is. Songin wasn't really bothered by it really, perhaps even flattered the older man could recognize him even in disguise.

"Looks like you've caught me," Songin grinned slightly, lifting his head so his gaze peeked out from beneath his hat. "Good to see you, Mr. Wu, you seem rather... spirited today." Songin gave a small almost unnoticeable wink at the woman next to him - Ling - showing the slightest hint that he may have some measure of humor somewhere in his body. The woman moved to the side, seeming apprehensive towards him. Perhaps she noticed the wink and didn't appreciate it? Songin took a mental note to refrain from such behavior around her in the future.

"It is good to meet you Ling, as was said, I am Songin. I'm a friend and student of Mr. Wu's." Songin introduced himself briefly, to Ling, just as she noticed another lingering member of the party and invited them over to their little... pow wow? He began wondering just how large this party would become, and what exactly this "@emissary" had in store for them. He decided it couldn't hurt to ask as an inquiring mind what the other partygoers thought the night's festivities might entail.

"What activities do you suppose are planned for the night?" Songin said to no one in particular, but probably @zongwu. After all, he was the only one he recognized so far. The night was still young, however, and he would not be surprised to find other familiar faces. Friendly, and otherwise.

The room, even with the light atmosphere, would gradually get hotter. Although not exactly the heat of a blazing sun on a burning day, it would soon become quite uncomfortable as the person who emitted this heat aura came closer. Jyrell let himself into the room, his hand somewhat sizzling at the door knob. He peeks inside, his ghastly but handsome smile pokes through with his top hat. Immediately after, he would completely walk through, revealing his 'costume'.

He was wearing a formal red dress coat with the tips of the seperating back reaching the back of his calves which was strung together by three thick goldren strings, gradually getting tighter the lower they go. Under the coat was a plain black shirt with no special features other than being made from a heat resistant material to keep his other clothing fine in case his heat aura goes out of control. Other than having a practical function, it made a contrast between the ghoulish colors of his face. To complement the colors, his pants and shoes were black and formal like the rest of his clothing. He wore one white glove that he used to hold a cane. The only real stand out accessory was his golden pocket watch which pocked out of the front pocket of his dress coat with the golden chain hanging fashionably from his chest.

It was an odd choice to go as this but odd is what Jyrell does. He knew that he would probably be mistaken as just wearing formal attire but in reality, it really was a costume. He was dressing up as the main antagonist of an obscure book that is highly praised by those who finds it, which was also the reason for the heat aura. He did look good in it though, he was bouhd to get complements. However, those that have seen him, would quite possibly think that he is just dressing normally as his everyday attire isn't actually far off from this.

Jyrell looked around observantly. His sharp eyes pierce every person and every item before he begins to move closer into the party. Small whispers among the people would raise as he does so, being a relatively well-known celebrity among the people of Republic City. His audience is mainly composed of nonbenders so here in High Street, his presence is not quite recognized as much.

Jyrell didn't feel like he belonged here really. Yes, this relatively fancy place is quite his style but Jyrell, quite honestly, did not like being part of a crowd. Of course, he wasn't nervous though, he just dislikes being part of a collective, at least without him having a seeminglt autonomous reign over himself. Jyrell, as extroverted as he seemingly is, finds dealing with many people tiring when it's not on the job or when it is not interesting to him. At heart, Jyrell is an introvert with high amounts of social energy. Just because he can talk a lot more than other introverts, it doesn't excuse the fact that interacting with other people takes away some of his energy.

He quickly found a place to sit down. The comfy cushioned chair accomodated him nicely. Afterwards, he waited. Patience is a virtue and good things come to those who can both wait and pursue. His eyes, still scanning the room from beneath his top hat, looked for something interesting to meddle in.

Ling gave an offhanded shrug, still motioning for the long-haired man to come join them. "It's clearly meant to be spooky," she replied, nodding her head in the direction of the buffet table — food made to look like body parts and mysterious potions were decidedly not indicators of a normal dinner party. "Perhaps a haunted house, or a murder mystery dinner?" Though, she hoped it wasn't a murder mystery dinner: the other party-goers would be unfortunately outclassed by herself and perhaps the police officer. That is, unless she wound up the designated murderer.

She nibbled on her mashed potato "brains", noticing another young man walk into the party. She gestured to him too, feeling particularly social. And his outfit looked good — his skin didn't even look like it was painted on! She made a mental note to ask him where he got his skin paint. 

"So what does everyone do, when they're not being part of the local fauna and mysterious secret agents from a hundred years past?" she queried as she waited expectantly for the other two to join them; she hoped that her increasingly obvious hand motions would encourage them to come join their merry little circle.

Jyrell has an eye for the intriguing. Although the woman beckoning him had no real stand out features from what he could see-- he was quite far though-- he felt that the woman was an interesting find from the faces of the crowd. From her actions, Jyrell's observational prowess took apart her sitation. She isn't the most social which was evident from her awkward gestures. He could tell that where she lacks in social finesse, she has raw charm because of the reactions of her accomplices. Jyrell read her lips and while not being the best at it, he could tell by the way she looks at them accompanied by whatever he could scrounge from her lip movements that she asking about their costumes. Nothing of note on that question so he moved on. Her costume, a yukijoro or a yuki-musume he believed, didn't give much information without additional intel. He wondered if she was the type of woman to express herself through her clothes. Either way, we all make subtle unconscious decisions for our attires that give a peek on our personalities and experiences. Of course, that didn't mean we did it all of the time. From the way she called him over, she either did not recognize him or does not come to the circus. Either those, or she did not care for his reputation. The latter has been quite an interesting category as they show far less hesitation.

All of his observations were taken in less than two seconds and he perambulated towards her. As he did, he had gotten a clearer view of her eyes. He knew not why but even when he looked away, he could remember them with great detail and memory. While Jyrell has great memory, memorising the scattering color of an iris at every angle he had viewed was something on a differrent level. The image of them has been burnt heavily upon him. Jyrell, well, he found it quite intriguing.

He finally stood before her and her two companions. He face stretched into a smile,one of perfected innocence practiced before a mirror and had no meaning behind it, before greeting them. "Greetings!"

Ichiro saw the woman standing with everyone else motioning for him, and he heard her telling him not to be shy. He wasn't shy, that wasn't it... he did hesitate to go over, though, but she motioned for him again. Sighing, he walked over to the group. "I'm not shy, for the record, just... this isn't really my scene," he explained. "I don't do things like this at all." He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm Ichiro by the way, and I am the Manager to Watashi's restaurant." As soon as he said that, someone else walked over to their little group, greeting them. "Greetings," he said, inclining his head towards the new stranger.


Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. He still hoped that Ren'ai showed up, but at least if she didn't, he had found some people to... mingle with. Maybe they were right, and he needed to get out more. He couldn't spend all of his time working or training. There had to be something else. He knew that his parents wanted to meet someone, but... one thing at a time, right? At least he was getting out.

Ling didn't particularly care for the intensity with which the kid looked at her, but she'd been accused of the same thing because of her eyes. She grinned at him and scooted over. "Hey there," she said, moving slightly to gesture to the buffet table. "You should grab a bite, this stuff is pretty good."

Her grin widened as the handsome waterbender — those eyes were unmistakable, especially since her sister had the same ones — meandered over, muttering something about not being shy and introducing himself as the manager at Watashi's. She gasped, then gently tapped his arm with her elbow. "No way!" she replied. "My mom goes there every time she feels homesick. Thanks for doing what you do, man."

Ling paused, her grey-blue eyes giving the two newcomers the once-over, eyebrow arched. "Er, what're you guys supposed to be, anyway?"

He tipped his hat politely towards the waterbender. His eyes examined the waterbender as well and found he was quite the stereotype. His words easily said that he was quite the gentle person. He could assume a lot of traits from that. Stereotypes, while not completely true, have been built up with observations. He knew to use the general and go from there. Of course, he never assumes the person, it just helps to have something to line up with. It is like a ruler guiding a pencil. Granted, going by a stereotype is quite the rough and deformed ruler when it comes to determining a person.

"Sure," He said as he picked out some kind of weird small fried fish. From their size and how they are presented upon the table, he could tell that they were safe to be bitten into without his gums getting stabbed. Before he did so, he said this: "I'm Jyrelll Xiao Long. I'm the Ring Leader of the Little Dragons Circus." He gave a nod at the taste. His lips stretched to a faint smile, remaining charming as ever.

"I am...." He continued to explain the character he is portraying. All he could say was that he was the villain of the story because the name wasn't said in the actual book either. The book had gone over how evil is not some kind of force that stood in the light and casted a shadow of darkness but one that stood amongst the crowds in it and caused chaos from there. It explains things such as fear being a defense mechanism that protects us from these visible threats but makes us more vulnerable to evil. The villain of the story represents evil. Throughout the book, he has done nothing but whisper into the ears of the main characters, never showing his darkness to them or the readers. It was only till the end when he was revealed and by the end, it was only revealed on the last page. It left readers with a sense of awe on how they missed to clues to his darkness with all of the small hints scattered across every chapter. Of course, he did not spoil it. All Jyrell said was the he was a guy from a book that leads the plot but never makes himself visibly important. He also added that he recommended the book.