((This thread is open to any who wish to roleplay human or supernatural beings demon, angel, vamp, lycan, etc. Vivian is a human contracted with a demon. Thread takes place in London in an undisclosed time period. If you'd like more info on Vivian or the thread, shoot me a message. I'll probably open an ooc thread with this darling gets rolling~ Just looking for some good roleplay ^^))
Slender fingers grasped scarlet threads just below her chin, the hooded cloak hiding the determined set of her lips. Black hair, streaked with white, framed her concealed face… smooth porcelain skin tucked out of sight for this midnight's errand. Her pace was casual, almost graceful in the fluid way her steps progressed. Here in the night she was an ethereal creature made of the shadows and that which hid within them. She walked alone.
She seemed almost surreal, her essence clinging to all the worth and merit a fairytale possessed. A bewitching young lady, like a fabled red riding hood with frightful intent. But where there was darkness and hatred in her, there also dwelt a great and overwhelming innocence. In the depths of her burgundy eyes, past the bitterness and pain, there was a gentle yearning to be seen for what she really was. A yearning to be released from her mistakes and regrets...or perhaps for someone to rediscover the little girl that had so willingly let go of her youth.
Vivian Oxford was silent, her steps hushed on cobblestone streets as she moved. The crimson cloak danced after her as she went, following her around the corner of a large building and stopping as she did just before a large iron gate. Her head swiveled, checking for any prying eyes before she slipped between the gate's bars and on to the property they enclosed. She quickly approached the building within, her silhouette disappearing behind the great wooden doors of the dance hall after little more than a second of playing with the lock.
Inside, it was stagnant, the air thick with forgotten memories of the last ball held here. Vivian brought her hands to her hood, drawing it down and freeing her hair from under it. From here, her steps quickened noiselessly on the marble floor as she crossed the grand room. She hardly took the time to notice the palatial stylings of the hall, the beautiful stained glass windows, the full length mirrors with golden frames, or the angels carved with loving patience into the ceiling and the impressive chandeliers just below. Instead, she moved to the farthest side...her eyes on a portrait of the Queen.
With little effort, she began to tear at the corner of the masterpiece, pulling it free of its gilded borders and uncovering a splendid secret underneath. Though she knew the frame would not be budged, intelligence had suggested quite a treasure just behind the proud woman's profile. Underneath the ripped canvas was not the etched marble of the hall walls, nor the base of a frame, but wooden planks. With a harsh slam of her elbow, Vivian broke the boards and reached in to remove a black gem from its place of concealment. Without a word she tucked it beneath the fabric of her corseted black gown and stepped back from that which she had destroyed.
"Forgive me, your Majesty...but I'll be damned if I let you stand in the way of good business," Vivian told the painting coolly, her voice holding only a hint of actual enmity.
She nodded politely, turning to walk back across the hall. Though she was far too good at what she did to have been seen entering the property, Scotland Yard had an awful knack for suddenly receiving anonymous information about criminal activities. Vivian narrowed her eyes at the thought. The way London was lately...she wouldn't have been surprised if something more than a mere human were responsible.
She slowed for a moment, not even halfway to the entrance. A part of her wanted to linger here, to look around and imagine what it would be like with people present. They would be dressed magnificently, spinning and swaying to music played on such enchanting strings, filling the room with life. Moonlight shimmered across Vivian's skin as it poured in through the windows, marking her as an evanescent being in a world she was beginning to feel that she did not belong in. Had she lived too long already? Hadn't this been what she wanted?
Vivian waited for the feelings of rebellion, hate, and strength to return and fill her heart with black. Oddly, it did not come. Through lashes dark as night, her eyes gazed out longingly across the tiled floor. Never stop to think...always keep moving... she told herself roughly. After a calming breath, the spectral individual drew up her scarlet hood once more and began to cross the vacant floor, her prize nuzzled securely between her pale breasts.
One day...she thought, almost hopefully, One day, perhaps when I am dead...before my soul is taken...I could dance here. One day, maybe I too could pretend my life is perfect...
((First post on this site, so let me know how I did ;D))