#ed1717
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Sept 9, 2017 19:51:41 GMT
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Lev
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August 2015
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Post by Lev on Oct 9, 2015 15:47:28 GMT
Welcome to the highly anticipated Day 3, everyone! The third day of the festival is dedicated strictly to the Masquerade ball, where the Rite of Milova will take place.
If you have unfinished business in the Day 1 or Day 2 threads - at the Courtyard, or Marketplace - feel free to finish them up. However, DON'T introduce new interactions/posts there. Those days are finished. If you didn't make it, move on.
Have fun!
Theolandra stood in front of her designated seat at the north end of the ballroom, playing with her fingers as she watched the citizens slowly filter in with masked faces. It was the only seat in room and it was foolish to think that she'd be sitting in it during the night, but her advisers insisted that she try anyway. Appearances and all of that uppity nonsense required that she looked regal, that she display the proper face for the Divine event and the kingdom. They'd have to beat down her hopeless enthusiasm for romance first. From her spot she could look over the edge of the upper level, into the recess in the middle of the room. Nobody was dancing yet, but she knew the music would inspire them soon enough. Until then the masked attendants next to decorated tables - covered in drinks and specialty food - would welcome them to the affair.
After all, there was a lot to be introduced to. The marble floors of the Grand Ballroom moved and churned like golden smoke under the fluttering candlelight, a temporary illusion that would soon be unnoticed beneath the heavy foot-traffic and elegant dresses. While their flames provided an intimate atmosphere for the guests, the candles weren't the only thing illuminating the venue. Beyond the view of draping red fabrics, all slightly different hues, was a different kind of ceiling - one that didn't look like a ceiling at all. To the untrained eye it seem like nothing rested above their heads but the endless canvas of the sky, like looking up through unfinished construction. Closer inspection would reveal a more magical explanation. One moment the room would be showered in a veil of afternoon sunlight, the cloud above glowing pink and orange like a dream; the next moment would be cast into darkness. Deep blue clouds swirled across a heavenly sky filled with glittering stars, dangling so close one might reach out and capture one for their sweetheart. The room became a living painting - the citizens, its subjects - moving between beautiful scenes and timeless moments.
"Tonight is a night for singing.. Don't you think, Neala?" Theolandra turned to the young girl, the white feathers of her swan mask tickled ever so slightly, and her white dress stained with gold and red light.
"Absolutely, milday," Neale said cheerfully from behind a grey-feathered mask, speckled with white spots.
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#2007f0
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Apr 22, 2020 19:54:15 GMT
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Dymion
129
Aug 13, 2015 23:35:49 GMT
August 2015
dymion
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Post by Dymion on Oct 9, 2015 15:50:15 GMT
Why was she here? All of the people here wanted to celebrate, to embrace with someone as they reveled in the warmth of love. They were all happy here... they cared for each other. But nobody... nobody cared for her. She couldn't be loved. She wasn't worth it. It was something she had accepted... the one thing she could embrace. And here she was, a dark sheep against the backdrop of those who were worth the struggle. The men and women, sons and daughters, husbands and wives who had been so alluring that a brave soul had battled for their heart. Then there was her, a dark stain against a beautiful canvas of light, marring what should have been a scene of perfection. This was a night of dreams and hope, not... her. But why did she care? Quinn, that was why. It had been two days, and still she hadn't shaken it off. A complete stranger had been the one to help her accept what had been plaguing her since the death of her brother. She was broken.
Erin hadn't been the same sense she had said it herself. It had enlightened her, revealing that something was in fact wrong with her. The elders had seen it. It was the only reason they had allowed her to stay in her room the second day of the celebration. Their glances of worry had not gone unnoticed by the young woman, nor the other sisters. Curious eyes were often thrown Erin's way. They didn't understand what had done her in. The confident, arrogant woman was gone, her mouth shut and hands empty. Her books remained on their shelves. On one occasion, a sister ventured into the mourner's room, a bowl of hot stew in hand. Her soft, concerned voice betrayed her. The newest sister, Elaine, had only arrived a few days ago. She had not been there to experience the ire of Erin.
"Erin, how are you feeling?"
"..."
"Mother Diane is worried about you."
"..."
Erin? Come on, what's wrong?
At the corner of the bedroom, the black cloth shifted, hollow, mournful eyes staring into concerned, brown orbs.
"I... I'll leave this here for you. It's still-
"Elaine..."
"...Yes?"
"I want to go to the masquerade."
And here she was. Her heart palpated at what she had done, nervous eyes scanning the crowd before her. On both sides, smiling, young women poured in, the sisters of her home. One, small, delicate hand rested on Erin's back, then was gone, a ray of yellow moving away... Elaine. One deep breath was pulled into the medic's lungs, and she looked down at her clothes. She still wore her dark, black, lifeless robes. To go out without them seemed almost strange now. But not as strange as... Her hand slowly went up, feeling the mask that hid her features. Elaine had made it. Even though she was new, her craftsmanship was... astonishing. Small and delicate, it fit her features perfectly, a dark, deep maroon matching and blending with her hair. A compliment to the dark tones of her clothing, black accents and swirls stretched across the velvety material. It was a work of heart, honestly. It didn't belong on her face. But there it was.
A deep sigh rose inside, and her nervous, gray eyes lifted, searching the crowd. She knew none of these people. Not because of the masks they wore... it was the one she had made, crafted on the day Daniel died, that was at fault. She was at fault. A hand raised, brushing aside her bangs, and slowly, she took one step forward, eyes going up to the decorum of the ceiling. It was enough to get lost in. She tried to, eyes flitting from one place to another as her feet slowly carried her. But no matter how hard she tried, the sounds of music and laughter filled her hears. The very air was thick with poignant emotion. A chill crept up her spine, and for a moment, she lowered her gaze. As eyes lit upon a table, filled with glasses of red wine, she felt a sudden calm. A drink... that could settle her nerves, make her... normal. A nervous look was cast at those around her as Erin slowly made her way to the drinks. Reaching one table, her small fingers wrapped around the delicate stem of a glass, lifting it to eye level. It was a work of art, the very glass crafted so that the red liquid made it look like a rose. She took a quick sip, eyes glancing around. It tasted really good...
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Oct 9, 2015 17:53:44 GMT
Mask.
Gown.
Crownlet. Quinn entered the ballroom in a confident stride, the overcoat of her gown billowing in her wake. She walked with more purpose than usual, lacking the whimsical misdirection her endeavors so often contained. As soon as she passed through the double doors, her gaze pierced through illusion and splendor in a hurried search for... someone.
Erin. What if she didn't show? You could tell she hated things like this. And now you're here all alone, forced to- To mingle with the crowd, like I always do. To socialize and entertain, like I always do. If Erin does not arrive, I will not be perturbed by it.
But Erin had arrived. She stood out as starkly as coal in a snowbank amidst all the extravagant colors, her own clothes marked the same somber black they had been two days prior. The only change was a roguish mask of dark red, colored to match with her-
Beautiful, flowing
-hair. Quinn swept through the crowd with seamless grace, soon appearing by the girl's side.
"I didn't take you for one that drank," she remarked slyly, eyeing the floral goblet with a smirk, "and most definitely not a social drinker. Are you finally opening up to the idea of fun?"
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Guest
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Aug 15, 2015 17:44:50 GMT
August 2015
guest
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Post by Guest on Oct 10, 2015 1:23:20 GMT
"You just LET that woman give her a dress. You didn't even tell me about it," Willem grumbled bitterly. A brother should be advised about things like this. He was the leader of the household, for Den's sake! It wasn't until last night's shift ended that Willem was informed about the 'plan'. Apparently an elderly aristocrat witnessed the little scene between Arista and the hooded figure. The nosy, painted lady recognized Arista from the Horse Head bar and felt inclined to offer her assistance in 'the matter'. So she indulged her deep pockets by buying an ornate musical mask and offered to lend Arista an old ballgown. Without Willem around to protest the girls jumped at the chance like rats on an alley cracker. " It couldn't be helped, Willem. She needed it for the ball; I couldn't wait for you to grant your blessing that night before stitching it," Vivienne tried to reason. His next words were a soft-spoken attack. "If you were home you'd have more time to stitch it when I got back." Normally he'd feel terrible about saying something so accusing. But Vivienne was holding her own share of secrets from the last two days. "She doesn't need such a fancy thing. She-" He tried to continue by rationalizing his point but Dalia promptly cut off his negative remarks. " She looks fabulous, Will! Those mystery men will be chasing her heels all night - and then some!" The girl squeezed Arista's finely dressed shoulders and made a noise that sounded like a squeel but also like a growl. Energetic eyes met the dark orbs behind Willem's aggressive mask. " Or.. maybe not." " Lift me up, Will! I want too see the ceiling.. Please, please!" Little hands tugged at his waist to get his attention. How was he going to watch the crowds this way? Oh well. It couldn't be helped. " Us too! You can't forget us!" Two other voices chimed in when he started to comply with Corianne. "One at at time," he sighed then took Cori onto his shoulders.
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#2007f0
3
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Apr 22, 2020 19:54:15 GMT
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Dymion
129
Aug 13, 2015 23:35:49 GMT
August 2015
dymion
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Post by Dymion on Oct 10, 2015 22:51:51 GMT
"I didn't take you for one that drank..."
A familiar voice broke Erin's reverie as she had just raised the glass again to her lips, nd as her eyes ever so slightly widened in surprise, she did her best to not breathe red wine with her small, sharp intake of air. Lowering the glass slowly, her head turned ever so slightly, and sure enough, there she was. Quinn, adorned in a deep purple that matched her perfectly, stood right there, with a confident smile on her face. She hadn't expected the woman to find her so soon... Then Erin realized the naivety of such a thought. She was the only person in almost pure black. A quick glance was thrown towards the glass in her hand, and she seemed to pause, considering what to say. The typical confidence she'd always had was missing. It was unusual to the healer.
"I've never had wine." Her voice sounded contemplative, the low, smoky tone calm, despite her inner feelings. "Or any alcohol, for that matter." She set down the now empty glass, looking just long enough to pick up a new one before she turned to fully face her... friend, the new, red rose held lightly before her. "But I have also never been to a dance." She chuckled, a short, small puff of sound. "So..." A sudden loss of words set Erin's tongue to stone. In an attempt to hide it, she took a sip of her wine. No words came to her mind. The sip turned to a swig. Then the glass ran dry. She was astounded at how quickly it went, and with a furrowing of her brow, she raised it to eye level, inspecting the lack of liquor. A quick glance at Quinn, and she was happy for the mask. She could feel her cheeks heating up, having literally just said she wasn't a drinker, only to down a full glass. A small sigh left her lips, and she set the glass down, using it as a moment to hide her embarrassment. "Sorry, I'm... I'm not use to this whole..." Her right hand raised in a slight gesture, indicating the ballroom. "Uh, I don't know..." She looked down, trying to regain what semblance of intelligence she had left. "I have no idea what I'm doing."
There was more truth to this than even she realized, a third, full glass of wine in her right hand that she had yet to realize she'd picked up.
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inherit
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Isengrim
55
Aug 15, 2015 14:18:57 GMT
August 2015
isengrim
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Post by Isengrim on Oct 11, 2015 1:56:12 GMT
Isengrim had not shown up for the first two days of the Rite of Milova. It was not odd, since he had not taken part in it since before his departure from Etirath. When he returned, he stayed at his house during the three days. The city would be abuzz with love and activity, and he normally chose to isolate himself from it all. But this year he had no reason to.
Still. He had not appeared to the first two days. Surely Theolandra would have worried for him, but during those two days, he was preparing, thinking. The third day was the dance. Often considered the most important day of the Rite. The ballroom would be alight with the soft, vibrant buzz of life and jubilee. Friends and lovers alike joined together to celebrate Milova's divine love.
What he was going to do, under normal circumstances, he would never dream of. But since their reunion, he noted Theolandra encouraging him to think a little less. He would often indulge in a bit of mischief at her egging, but never did he ever take the initiative. So today, he chose to surprise her.
When he walked into the ballroom, his attire resembled something not seen by any eyes in over fifty years. With his magic, some of the colors were changed, and the insignias were removed or modified so that they were not identifiable. But surely Theolandra would be able to recognize the dress uniform of the Eldritch knight. The outfit was the exact same, though the deep purples, scarlets, and blacks were replaced by dark blues, whites and silvers, respectively. The clasp, normally gold and shaped like the symbol of the Eldritch knight, which held his cape over his shoulders, and sat atop the right side of his chest, was now in the form of a silver lion. At his hip hung his sword in a decorative sheath. He was freshly groomed and though he did not sport the longer flowing hair of his youth, his preparation seemed to drop ten years off of his appearance.
Over his face, was the piece that tied it all together. His mask was a silver, metallic piece with intricate etchings clearly made at the hands of a skilled artisan. It covered the bridge of his nose, his eyes, and brows, and was subtly shaped so as to cast shadows into the mask, further covering his eyes so that the only person who could see them would be someone looking directly into them from a very close distance, his dance partner. The mask was obviously aged, but was well cared for, cleaned, and could be passed off as new. But any who had seen the mask before would be able to easily identify it. It was the mask worn to the last masquerade ball attended by the Greisimn, the Eldritch Knight. It was a somewhat risky maneuver, but it was extremely unlikely that any but the oldest of attendees would identify him, and even then, fifty years was likely more than enough to do away with such a small insignificant memory. No. There was only one person who would be able to identify him for who he was. Who he really was.
For the first time in over fifty years, Isengrim entered the grand ballroom. The doors were all opened. He entered through the south entrance, making his way past the crowd of idling guests, trying to drink up the nerve to be the first to take to the floor. Theolandra was at the opposite end, sitting in the only seat in the ballroom, on the upper floor. She was conversing with her attendants and a few guests but even from the distance he could see her occasional glances. Perhaps she was looking for something? Or someone?
As he made his way around, staying close to the walls and weaving between the guests, making sure to try to keep something in between himself and her gaze, a thought came to his head. What if she had already found a partner? What if she was waiting for someone already. Would all of this be for nothing?
All of this? What was this? He intended to ask her to a dance. That was his intention. They were close friends, for a long time they have been, and a fifty year hiccup couldn't even slow that down. And in the Rite of Milova, platonic love was also celebrated. So... why was he feeling so nervous? Why was it that now, as with every footstep he drew nearer to Theolandra, he began to question himself? Maybe it was the atmosphere... Maybe it was the constant turning glances and people wondered who this newcomer was, and where he was going.
He looked back up towards where Theolandra sat, and as he got closer, he began to notice how beautiful she looked. After so long, he had almost grown accustomed to her supernatural beauty, and often spent hours in her company undaunted by the fact that she was who she was. But now, under these circumstances, for the first time in so long, he began to realize that her divinity wasn't just something expressed through her regality and personality. "Divine Beauty" were not just empty praises sung from the mouths of adoring citizens hoping to appease their Goddess-Queen.
No. She was, in every sense of the word. Beautiful.
His pace slowed. His watched as she laughed and smiled and conversed with those around her. Relaxed and yet royal. He knew her better than to believe she was simply some regal figurehead who wanted nothing more than to sit and look important. He knew she wanted nothing more than to walk into the crowd, and enjoy the event to its fullest. He was one of the few people who knew her well enough to know this. This knowledge was unique to him. And therefore, he knew, that if he did not do as he planned, she may well spend the entire night sitting right there, unable to endulge as she wished. Doubtful anyone would have the nerve to ask the queen herself to dance. They all seemed to see her as something beyond human, failing to see the simplicity in who she was, as a person. No, if she was to enjoy this night, it was a gift that only he could give her.
He was still nervous. Where this sudden feeling came from he would never know. It made no sense to him. It was familiar yet alien. But still, he steeled his nerves and took the first step into the clearing at the center, then another. He walked, slowly, but with each step gaining confidence, until he stood at the center of the ballroom. He tilted his head up towards where the queen sat, and waited for her to look down at him.
When she did, he could feel his mouth draw involuntarily into a smile: friendly, mischievous, and just a bit coy. A smile not seen since his youth.
The music continued, though a bit slower, and the murmur of the crowd seemed to fall just slightly. Maybe all of this was just in his head, as his pounding heart steadied, with a bit of magic to make sure his voice carried across the distance. He asked the question he came to ask.
"May I have this dance?"
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#ed1717
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Sept 9, 2017 19:51:41 GMT
5
Lev
191
August 2015
admin
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Post by Lev on Oct 11, 2015 2:19:07 GMT
Evereen Tooke had just finished introducing her youngest son when something stole Theolandra's attention into the crowd, shining under shifting light and striking her eye for just a moment. When she tore her attention away to find the distraction it was gone, slipping away behind two men in green and black before she could catch it. Was that-? It couldn't have been.. Mrs. Tooke had no trouble keeping conversation while Theolandra fell into curious silence, going on about how Tomm picked his own mask and worked it himself for the first time. Grinning toward the boy she gave him credit where it was due, complimenting the lovely arrangement of bluebird feathers along the edges.
The Tooke's and a handful of other families had come and gone, but a nagging excitement tugged the Lady's eyes left and right. She didn't know what she hoped to find. The only thing standing between the crowds was empty space and expectation. She was about to whisper to Neala when the hum of the party softened suddenly, muffling the room like a blanket of snow mutes the loud colors of autumn. Had something happened? None of the attendants were in a hurry to handle anything. They were as still and curious as the crowds, sending strange glances toward the recess of the ballroom. Theolandra stood before wonder could push her over the edge of her seat.
What met her gaze was a phantom, a handsome ghost dressed in memories and nostalgia. A crooked smile pierced her heart like a fisherman's hook. Black shadows filled the gaps in the man's silver mask, hiding his eyes; but she knew every etch and groove of that silver facade as well as she knew the eyes underneath it. Insignias and ornate trim decorated his chest, hinting at the past but adapting to the new man that wore them. Neala tapped the queen's shoulder. Had she said something? Theolandra couldn't hear anything over the heartbeat in her ears. Greisimn asked to dance.. For the first time she would be able to dance - not alone in the secrecy of her chambers, or in practice with a teacher. Like a mortal woman with simple needs she could dance, if she said yes.
Slowly, she moved toward the stairs then descended onto the dance floor. Each step let her catch her breath, and each moment gave her time to tame her excitement. Her smile was wide and bright, telling but tame, and her head tilted down just slightly as she approached him. Blue eyes stood out like the glow of freshly fallen snow, locked onto his with a look of pleasant intrigue. When she was close enough to offer her hand Greisimn's eyes became clear, and the Lady could feel the pulse in her ears again. She just wanted- Wanted to..
"I'd be honored."
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inherit
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Isengrim
55
Aug 15, 2015 14:18:57 GMT
August 2015
isengrim
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Post by Isengrim on Oct 11, 2015 4:54:26 GMT
He thought she was beautiful before, sitting on her lone chair, commanding the attention of all those who entered. But when she stood, and began to carefully descend,the sight was absolutely otherworldly. She seemed to glide, her steps smooth, flowing, and graceful. It was as if the dance had already begun. It took some effort for Isengrim to conceal his awe as the angel seemed to step off the final steps from heaven, approaching him. Her crystalline blue eyes and wide, gleaming smile froze him to the spot. His heart threatened to beat a hole into his chest. He took a deep breath just before she stopped just before him. All the years of his life could not compare to those mere moments of her descent, and the fraction of a second between her arrival, and her response.
"I'd be honored."
Isengrim's smile widened, and his chest rose as the weight seemed to slide off his shoulder and his body seemed to buzz with sudden vigor. He reached for her hand, gently taking it in his own, and bowed. This time, not as a subject to his queen, but as a dancer to his partner. He stepped forward, taking her hand into his, and softly placing his hand around her, drawing her a bit closer.
Then, in time with the music, he moved, leading her along with him. It would kill him of embarassment if she knew the hours he spent in his house, practicing the steps with a broom. Steps he had not performed in many, many years. Yet at that moment, holding her in her arms, all of that disappeared. The years seemed to fade away. He was back in his youth. The music, the dance, the moment itself, looking into her eyes, holding her so closely. It all seemed to have a magic of its own, more powerful than any incantation. A magic that seemed to trespass the boundaries of time. Maybe it was a blessing from Milova herself. If for nothing else than for just this one dance, Isengrim's many years seemed to melt away. For just this one dance, he was once again just Greisimn.
Together, their movements seemed to guide the music as much as it guided them. Her steps perfectly matched his, swaying and gliding, stepping and spinning, pushing and pulling, completely in sync. Their minds and hearts completely in tune, like a joint spell cast with their mesmerizing movements.
The Queen of Etirath and the mysterious stranger, with that night's maiden dance, had cast a spell on their completely captivated audience.
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Oct 11, 2015 6:22:13 GMT
Quinn stared at the glass of wine with raised eyebrows.
"You know, you kinda need to build a tolerance to these sorts of things," she said slowly, touching the rim of the glass before Erin could raise it to her lips. In a deft motion, the socialite yanked the ornate cup from the other's hand, and drained it herself. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, and placed the goblet on the table as a rosy blush grew on her cheeks.
"It's clear you don't know what you're doing, but don't let that set you back."
Let it eat you alive inside, like a fucking demon.
"I'm here to help you."
Hell if you know what to do.
A searching touch found Erin's arm, solidifying its grasp in a sincere grip. The girl leaned in, her eyes open wide and her mouth held in a sly crescent.
"Two nights ago, I asked you to give yourself up to the moment. Tonight, I'm telling you. Dance with me."
And when she says 'no', prepare for your hungry little heart to break. You know no one will ever say yes. No one ever has, no one ever will. No-
Shut up and watch.
-grown a spine now, I see. Does that help you live with yourself?
Just shut up and watch.
Quinn stared expectantly into Erin's eyes, a look of almost desperation hidden beneath the facile demeanor of casual delight.
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Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
4
blacknoise
I don't have kik.
273
Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
blacknoise
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Post by blacknoise on Oct 11, 2015 6:46:24 GMT
Alek's Mask Alek walked almost somberly through the ballroom, wondering why such a strange and uncharacteristic desire drew her to reveal herself at a ball, at the palace no less! There was a time when the criminal would not allow herself to be within a few hundred feet of this place, and now she strode in dressed in finery that was, mostly, not her own. Her dress was simple, something a peasant with enough time and nice material could have made. The same as she wore as the night before, cleaned and pressed once more. Only the mask was her own, taking all day to forge. A half-mask of steel, there was something almost sinister to it that Alek could not have put her finger on. She worked it just like she would have worked a circle of alchemy, with precision and without emotion. Perhaps, that was it. Emotion, ones she prayed did not deceive her, drove her to attend the final day of the festival of Milova, and it was that very thing that her mask lacked. But she had no time to change it, not time to go back and make another one. She would wear the one she made, and she would wear it proudly. Her trained eyes scanned the crowd, observing the various lovers take each others hands in dance. They were not her targets, and as much as a small part of her wanted to watch them, they did not matter so much as the woman she now looked for. There, found her, Alek thought. Standing next to the wolf, a woman whom Alek had found herself falling head over heels for. Unlike Vivienne, for Alek, his was the natural progression from a mountain of feelings and afar-off watching. The redhead had watched her for a long time, wishing she had the courage to speak. Williem wore the mask of a wolf, fitting, after all did he not hunt her and her ilk like a vicious animal on the scent of a dying animal? Perhaps Alek read too deeply into the symbolism, but she still indulged in fancying herself like a Greater Mountain Wolverine, growing stronger with every injury. Indeed, she was stronger, as she boldly approached with small family. Careful to keep her emotions about Williem in check and her emotions with Vivienne at the forefront of her mind, Alek relaxed her step and smiled. As Williem moved to pick up his sisters, Alek arrived and bowed. The brooch Vivienne had given her the night before shone in her hair as she asked, "Miss DeCarlisle, may I have this dance?"
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#ea7ca1
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Jan 27, 2019 20:04:50 GMT
3
Leb
The loneliest are the kindest. The saddest smile the brightest. The most damaged are the wisest.
223
August 2015
leb
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Post by Leb on Oct 11, 2015 7:55:57 GMT
Loretta's Mask Elanor's Mask
With Elanor by her side, and a mask upon her face, Loretta strode into the grand ball room with a confidence she normally did not carry. There was something about having your identity hidden that brought out an alluring side of her. There was a feeling of mischief, mystery, and a bit of a daring nature; it was empowering. She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face and looked over to Elanor who continued to hold her arm.
"What shall we do first? There are drinks over there.. or have you found someone you know?" Loretta asked searching about the fancily clad throng as her sister shrugged in answer. No one stood out to her, nor could she recognize anyone there. But she was for certain that he wasn't here as well. Disheartened, Loretta gripped the crown she had yet to give. It seemed childish for her to continue to hold onto it but she couldn't bring herself to let go. Already the crown appears to be falling apart beneath her grip as there were less lilacs adorning it. The only thing that seemed to have kept it all together was the very ribbon she tied it together with. A sigh escaped passed her lips when red hair grazed her vision. Aleksandria Kostya was here, or rather as she was told, Alek, and she strolled past her with confidence akin to a predator with sights set on her prey. Who could she possibly be meeting with she wondered.
With curious eyes, Loretta peered after the woman as she neared a family of women and younger girls and man with a wolf mask. They all gathered together by the stairs the two had entered from not too long ago. Elanor caught wind of where Loretta stared after and brows were raised high. Her mouth hung open as not only one but two people seeked to dance with their prospective choices. Someone else dressed in black and gold had appeared though he didn't speak whilst Alek took the lead and bowed.
"Miss DeCarlisle, may I have this dance?"
DeCarlisle? Loretta looked to the family once more recognizing Arista from The Horse Head. She looked gorgeous in her gown. And Willem, as she was sure it was in fact him beneath the wolf mask, dressed handsomely for the occasion. He held a girl who appeared to be the same age as Lia, her youngest sister, atop his shoulders as she stared up in awe at the enchanted ceiling. It appeared that everyone was about to dance as even the queen herself had been asked to a dance.
"May I have this dance?"
His voice carried over the ballroom, stealing many gazes as the lone man dressed in ornate clothing stared directly to their queen waiting for her answer. She had already stood from her seat and descended the stairs. Everyone whispered in hushes all wondering what she would do. Once she was close enough, she held out her hand for the man to take.
"I'd be honored."
And the room buzzed with activity as more and more men and women began to ask each other for a dance. Elanor had even been whisked away into the crowd for a dance or two leaving Loretta by herself. She stayed put with her head lowered, her eyes continued to gaze at the crown in hand. A somber yet wistful smile tugged her lips.
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Guest
78
Aug 15, 2015 17:44:50 GMT
August 2015
guest
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Post by Guest on Oct 11, 2015 20:46:45 GMT
"Miss DeCarlisle, may I have this dance?"
Idvesta's breath, what was happening here?! Those scarlet locks were unmistakable. Willem had seen Aleksandria wear many masks to fit her needs but this one was new. Its dark metal skin didn't leave much to the imagination.. outside of distasteful things to come. Why had she even attended the party? Was she making a sly attempt at targeting his family out of spite? Teeth clenched at the thought. The girls didn't know any better. Willem tried to keep the dangers of work separate from his home life. They didn't need to live in fear of the people or hide themselves away from imagined threats. He would protect them from anything like that before it had the chance to happen, which is why he moved to interrupt Alek's invitation.
"Vivienne, s-" Words failed him as he inspected Alek closer. A brooch with berries clung to her hair. He'd seen that brooch on the dining table in his home just yesterday. Could Vivienne's secrecy be pointing to..? No. This couldn't happen. Before he could object further he was interrupted.
"I would love to," Vivienne said with a tender smile.
"Vivienne, please. You don't-"
"I'm dancing, Willem. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I've been practicing." She winked. The lamb winked as she followed a lion in disguise onto the dance floor.
What could he do without causing a scene? Corianne was still perched on his shoulders and the others were comfortable in their blissfully ignorant support. A rage boiled inside of him but he wouldn't let Alek think she'd won. Oh no. Not now, but later he would make his stance on this little display know. So he mouthed the words 'I'll be seeing you again' to the scarlet thug while Vivienne wasn't looking. For the next few minutes his eyes were locked on the lower floor and Vivienne's head. Until-
"Where's Arista?"
"What?"
"Where did Arista go? She was right here," Elise asked again. This time Willem turned sharply to check on the flock with his own eyes. Arista had in fact disappeared without a sound.
"Dalia? Where is she?"
"I- uhh.. I don't know. I'm not her keeper," she lied. She most certainly was the girl's keeper. They were damn near inseparable which means that the little sneak was involved in whatever was happening.
"What are you trying to do to me?" Willem growled. After Corianne was thrust into Dalia's arms he made to leave in search of the missing girl.
He probably looked terrifying. The fierce colors and shape of his mask nearly parted the crowds by itself without the help of his large frame. Each new glimpse across the room showed no signed of Arista in her golden dress. Where could she have disappeared to so quickly? If Dalia thought this plan would work she'd be sorely- BUMP! The captain accidentally walked into something. Someone. He'd collided with a much smaller body than his own and immediately moved to steady them. It had to have been a woman or small child.. that thought made him regret how heavily he was walking.
"Forgive me, I didn't realize- Oh.. Miss Loretta," he said in a softened voice. "Hello."
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#2007f0
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Apr 22, 2020 19:54:15 GMT
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Dymion
129
Aug 13, 2015 23:35:49 GMT
August 2015
dymion
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Post by Dymion on Oct 12, 2015 1:16:45 GMT
Erin watched as Quinn's eyes drifted to her hand. A quick glance followed the woman's gaze, and as Erin saw what had garnered her companion's attention, she too raised her eyebrows, the movement hidden by the mask. She didn't remember picking up another glass, something that was not a good sign. Curious, she lifted it to again inspect its contents. That's when Quinn's hand intervened, her voice breaking the awkward silence that brewed in the cacophony of other celebrants. Unknown to the woman, Erin would feel relieved as Quinn took over, downing the liquor and stating what both already knew.
"It's clear you don't know what you're doing..."
Erin couldn't stop her mind from reacting as habit had formed. I literally just said that. She did, however, have better control of her tongue. She refrained from interrupting.
"I'm here to help you."
Curious, gray eyes locked onto wide, hazel ones, as Quinn's fingers wrapped around Erin's arm.
"Two nights ago, I asked you to give yourself up to the moment. Tonight, I'm telling you. Dance with me."
"I..."
What did she say? She hadn't come here expecting to dance... she didn't even know how. And now, Quinn was making a request that... she couldn't say no. A pit seemed to open in her stomach, and her heart dropped. For a moment, fear entered her eyes at the thought of dancing. She could feel as her teeth nipped her bottom lip. There was always an option. She could say no, turn around, disappear into the crowd, and retreat into the empty streets beyond. All it took was one word and she would be free to disappear to a life she knew. All she had to do was say...
She took a deep breath as she glanced over her shoulder. She could see the queen, steadily gliding across the dance floor with her partner. Her eyes returned to Quinn's, and her voice left as a whisper, weak and hungry for guidance.
"Show me."
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
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Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Oct 12, 2015 1:28:37 GMT
Erin watched as Quinn's eyes drifted to her hand. A quick glance followed the woman's gaze, and as Erin saw what had garnered her companion's attention, she too raised her eyebrows, the movement hidden by the mask. She didn't remember picking up another glass, something that was not a good sign. Curious, she lifted it to again inspect its contents. That's when Quinn's hand intervened, her voice breaking the awkward silence that brewed in the cacophony of other celebrants. Unknown to the woman, Erin would feel relieved as Quinn took over, downing the liquor and stating what both already knew."It's clear you don't know what you're doing..." Erin couldn't stop her mind from reacting as habit had formed. I literally just said that. She did, however, have better control of her tongue. She refrained from interrupting."I'm here to help you." Curious, gray eyes locked onto wide, hazel ones, as Quinn's fingers wrapped around Erin's arm."Two nights ago, I asked you to give yourself up to the moment. Tonight, I'm telling you. Dance with me." "I..."What did she say? She hadn't come here expecting to dance... she didn't even know how. And now, Quinn was making a request that... she couldn't say no. A pit seemed to open in her stomach, and her heart dropped. For a moment, fear entered her eyes at the thought of dancing. She could feel as her teeth nipped her bottom lip. There was always an option. She could say no, turn around, disappear into the crowd, and retreat into the empty streets beyond. All it took was one word and she would be free to disappear to a life she knew. All she had to do was say...
She took a deep breath as she glanced over her shoulder. She could see the queen, steadily gliding across the dance floor with her partner. Her eyes returned to Quinn's, and her voice left as a whisper, weak and hungry for guidance. "Show me."
Quinn's smile grew, and her tense stance immediately unwound. See? I told you."Listen to the beat of the music. Not the melody itself, but the underlying beat." Whum. whum. whum."Now..." Quinn stepped forward, so their bodies were touching. She wrapped her right hand around Erin's torso, and took the girl's palm in her left. "...follow my lead. Place your free arm around my back, and mirror every step I make in reverse." And prepare to end up in an angry, disappointed pile on the floor.She moved her left foot forward slowly, giving two measures' time before placing it on the ground. Then, in only one measure's time, she brought her right foot diagonally forward, parallel to the left.
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#2007f0
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Apr 22, 2020 19:54:15 GMT
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Dymion
129
Aug 13, 2015 23:35:49 GMT
August 2015
dymion
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Post by Dymion on Oct 12, 2015 1:53:26 GMT
"Listen to the beat of the music. Not the melody itself, but the underlying beat."
Okay. She could do that... It wasn't hard... it wasn't. Erin closed her eyes, listening past the subtle layers until she found it. A deep inhale, and her eyes opened. Almost instantly, her entire form went rigid, and a sense of anxiety pierced her heart. Quinn had moved close... really close. It felt alien to the healer, having someone's form so close to hers. It had never happened before. But she worked to calm her nerves, her companion's arm going around her waist as their hands met and were lifted. A sense of panic seemed to assail Erin. She would not crumble to the fears inside, though, and as Quinn instructed her own arm, slow and shaky, wrapped around the shorter woman. This felt so... strange. Maybe because she was so stiff, so unused to... this. A conscious attempt to loosen up followed. It didn't work.
When Quinn, began to move, Erin could already feel her eyes widened, fear hidden only by the mask as she looked down, trying to watch her... partner's... feet. Do the reverse of what she does... She watched as Quinn's left leg began to move, the vibrant purple gown rippling with her motion. My right. On command, Erin's right foot moved away, hidden under her mourner's robes. She was so out of place... but why had it mattered so suddenly? She hadn't cared before, and just strolled in dressed in black.
Left. She didn't know how she did it, but with her mind running a mile a minute, instinct had caused her to not trip up. As Quinn initiated the second step, Erin quickly followed. For a moment, she risked looking at Quinn's features, eyes still displaying her nerves, before she again focused on the motions. Meanwhile, the smallest of her stiffness slightly faded.
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