Time: Evening Location: Sorian Beach Interactions: @JJ Doe Peter Mentions: Aesthetic: braid owl mask dress and accessories Olivia’s skin tingled when Peter touched her chin. She slowly turned to face him. Their gazes caught each other’s, and Olivia wondered why her heart skipped a beat. His voice soothed her like an ocean breeze whisking sand away. She took several deep breaths and nodded. He was right. If she didn’t relax then her magic was no good. The noise in her mind briefly paused too.
”You are right.” She took another deep breath. The chatter around the ballroom heightened once more and the ruthless nobles around them continued their verbal assault on the peasants near them. Her cheeks flushed with anger. Her eyebrows rose as he spoke and she cocked her head to the left. What was he going to do now? When he began to lead her, she followed him willingly. The curiosity rose and drowned out the noise behind her once more.
Then her gaze lit up. She watched as he stealthily removed and added nobles of their treasures. The nobles were never the wiser. Olivia laughed with shock and covered her mouth with shock and awe. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. In her time of thievery she had not been that stealthy. Maye, just maybe… Liv’s thoughts trailed off as she continued watching. Olivia glanced around and noticed nobody noticed, not even the Devil himself and his cronies. How was he doing this? She needed to find out. Her skill could use some polishing.
With a light tap of his cane, Drake humored the man’s deduction. ”Is the costume so easily taken apart? Or are you perhaps far too good of a detective, Sir Danrose?” He lightheartedly joked. He would sound more chipper than usual to those who know him in passing. If he was to play a character, why not exaggerate his social quirks and make some fun out of it?
”Well, you may call me whatever pleases you most, Sir Raven.” He yet again poked fun at the costumes they both wore. ”I like to keep a smidgen of mystique to the identity. Like a good mystery novel, leaving just enough clues for the reader to piece them together.” He chuckled softly.
”As for Miss Camilia….” He paused for a moment, a slight dip in his voice as he softly lamented at the lost chance of a date with his crush. But it was quickly brushed off as he continued. ”She is unable to make it this evening. So I am but a lone bachelor this fine evening. I take it you share a similar fate as my own? Perhaps we could make the night a little less lonely for one another? At least for a spell.” A friendly smile found its way on Drake’s face, a picture perfect show of perfectly innocent intentions.
Drake wondered how the Queen might react to his casual conversation, and was ready to adjust himself should his demeanor seem out of line. But for now he seemed to be performing rather well. Perhaps this was his chance to better acquaint himself with some more prominent members of higher society, or a chance to make a new friend. The night could only tell, and it had only just begun.
Time: Night Location: the ceremony at lovers lake Interactions: @Tae Mina Mentions in order:@Lava Alckon Farim @Infinite Cosmos Munir @princess Ana @Helo Callum outfit: plaid kilt in his family colors, wearing a snow bear skull headdress/ mask, bones of the bear down his arms back and rib cage, body paint in the form of runes, no shirt or shoes.
Drums, horns, string instruments, many people from all walks of life near and far dancing barefoot around a fire. The songs of old sung by two on a raised platform, their voices traveling on the air to be heard by all those around them, echoing through the forest despite the cacophony of other sounds around them. The guards posted around the fire quietly translated what was being said in their old language to the common toung, something they would do for every song except the last song.
The two on the stage sang together, danced together, enter twined seemingly naturally as if it was well practiced and versed beforehand. Their forms, both strange and familiar, glimmered in the heat of the fire behind them, their movements mirrored one another as if they were of the same soul. The song continued growing in each verse, painting a scene of birth and life, of new beginnings and growth. These songs were meant to encourage the listener to help them grow and the next song to help them heal.
The song slowly ended the singers slowly stopping their dance to bow to one another with roman turning to the crowd. Roman didn’t look the same as he normally did in these moments on this stage. His posture was different, his voice was growing an odd accent more accustomed to someone from the city, even his body language began to feel off. Gone was the welcoming friendly open nature he normally carried, replaced by a posture that shouted military nobility more than anything. He spoke again as the instruments died down and they began their next song, “Our mortal lives are short and filled with terror and darkness, our gods bring us life, they weave our lives together so we may make our own path in it. A path we walk built by those that came before us so we may continue to build that path for our kin to continue the path after us.” Roman if one could even say he was roman now stepped forward towards the crowd and continued to speak.
“In that darkness we suffer, a darkness that may just as well follow us through our lives. Yet we find healing with the gods, with the earth, with each other. We have stepped through one song of birth of growth, of new beginnings. We step into the next song with the memories of what haunts us from things that have harmed us and the things we have harmed. To heal from wounds no one else can see but you and the gods. It is time for us all to shed that weight as it binds us no longer.” He took a step back, picked up a hand drum and began to play.
Mina chanting and dancing with him in a haunting manner that spoke of understanding from her. Continuing the dance just as before, each one is a little different from the last.
It was strange for roman to hear himself talk and sing like this almost like he had taken a back seat to the performance that himself and mina were putting on. Almost like a fading echo, even his vision was slowly growing dark.
With a start Roman woke, he was sitting in their family library in front of the hearth that warmed the room. It took him only a moment to see that he was home. In that moment he noticed he was dressed rather comfortably with his favorite book resting in his lap. A lone figure sat next to him quietly reading to herself, one he recognized as one of his sisters, but he wasn't quite sure who. “I apologize I must have dozed off, were we talking about something sister?” The girl didn’t pry herself from the book and roman couldn’t quite see her face but who else could be in his home other than his family? “No brother, you haven’t been home in some time you were beginning to make us worry if you would ever find your way back.” The voice was hauntingly familiar, but he wasn’t quite sure why he thought so. “I was having a strange dream of singing at a ritual just like father has done before except I was singing with Mina blackwood.” The girl still barely moved, not even the slight rising of her chest could be seen to indicate she was breathing at all. “That sounds like a wonderful dream brother, if only I could dream like that. But all I have are these books now.” Roman sat his book down next to him and looked over at the girl, a draft of cold air washed over him as he remembered that voice he hadn’t heard in a long time. "Iduna? it can’t be." The girl still didn’t shift or move in her seat, but the room slowly grew colder and darker. “Why can’t it be Roman? Could it have been because you let me die? Because you got us killed?” Roman was taken aback by this anger, he didn’t know he had boiled up in him as he remembered that night, as he remembered holding her in his arms as she passed on. The warmth of the room vanished with his rising temper. “that’s not fair and we both know that I did everything I could to get to you.” He began to reach for the girl to force her to look at him. “You still weren’t fast enough for them or anyone else. You weren’t strong enough.” Roman tried to grasp her and her chair but fell through them suddenly, finding himself falling through an old cottage door and into a town square. He remembered this place. “What is this?! This place... it can’t be.” His sister held his hand and pulled him into the middle of the town, villagers young and old went about their day-to-day activities. “Why do you say that brother?” His anger continued until it turned to horror looking down at her.
Iduna’s body was twisted in unnatural and fatal ways, clearly been crushed by some heavy equipment with half of her face torn away reveling the muscle and bone beneath, but still looking up at him as if nothing was wrong. “Because I destroyed this place, I killed everyone… I-I lost control.”
The village flashed to devastation smoke and fire rolled from the houses, blood and corpses pooled in the streets. A scream caught his attention from another house only for him to spot a bewildered Erik and some of his men looking at him. It took him only a moment to realize they weren’t looking at him but through him. Turning to follow their eyesight he was met with his greatest fear… losing control.
He saw himself stepping out of a doorway covered in blood and grime. His hair slicked back and dripping red with that wicked smile plastered on his face and the look of pure evil in his eyes. Those yellow eyes, the ones that haunt him in the mirror, lurking in the shadows of his mind, the ones that torture him in his dreams. Its soul might be locked away in his necklace that he instinctively reached for, but its will will always be one step away from coming to the surface and taking over once again.
He could hear whispers from his men, the fear in their shaky words as they described Roman in this state in the only way they could, “The Red Wake.”
Time: Night Location: Edge of Lover’s Lake-Roman Ceremony Interactions: Ari@Tpartywithzombi Mentions: Definitely not Wulfric…
“Ha! Your brother sounds like my brother, Wulfy not Auguste.” Callum couldn’t not throw that out there as Ari took another drink. He kept watching the shadow men, wondering if they could turn into giant owls.
So when Ari asked him to explain about the shoes, what he said was, “I think if I had to be a giant bird, an owl would be alright.”
… … … Wait, no, that’s not what she asked about!
“Oh and I took off my shoes and asked your mother to watch them for me. She did not like that. Went right over to Edin to complain about me and my shoes. Oh and then I told her friends she was scheming to prevent us from having nature walks. Callum explained it as well as he could, but his attention shifted from men in jackets turning into owls to his own, bare, feet.
Speaking of shoes, where had his gone? He didn’t remember taking them off. Cal gave a confused look at his bare feet. He checked to see if maybe his shoes were under his feet. They were not. “Look, right now, no shoes. Don’t even know where they went.”
Did I have shoes on before the tea? I should check there. Right! Ari wanted to get tea. Oh! I can have more tea! Should I drink more tea? The feeling of having forgotten something he should be remembering rose to the surface. He’d forgotten something, an important something, but what was it?
“Time for tea. Special tea. Hey. High tea.” Callum snickered as he stood up too quickly and found himself dizzy. He was on some sort of tea-high, it wasn’t a high he was used to but Callum had sampled enough to know that he was high on something right now. Something fantastic. This was his kind of tea.
Then he remembered he had plans for tonight that involved being sneaky and sober, both of which were states he was incapable of right now.
“I can’t have more tea.” He announced to Ari. “But we can get your tea and then, we have to look at the fire.”
Nahir’s lips tugged back into a smirk, and she fought the urge to lift an eyebrow at the woman in front of her. Crimson red lips formed a circle as she feigned shock from the words that had just come out of the lady’s mouth. “My dear, I would never!” She waved her hand, and a server rushed to her with a silver platter for her to deposit the empty flute. “You wound me… Though you are right to be on guard tonight. Would be best to steer free from the dragon that is roaming the ballroom. I heard she enjoys pouring sweet beverages on lovely women like yourself.”
So bold. So brave. Nahir wondered who this girl belonged to. A smaller noble house? New money? As of yet, no one had been so bold as to question her intention so outright. She could command the woman to remove her mask, but she doubted she would. Perhaps the woman didn’t even belong here, seeing as she had to confirm the mask sat upon her face.
Nahir patted the lady’s arm, “No need to worry about me, for I’d rather share a dance with you than laugh at you.” Her interest had been piqued already, and it would be a shame for it to end so quickly. So Nahir raised the woman’s hand to her lips, kissing the back of it and bowing her head slightly.
Munir, as a stranger to all of this, stood with his arms crossed behind his back. He fully allowed his mind to empty and let his emotions be guided by the ethereal atmosphere that now surrounded the crowd. He breathed in deeply, allowing the scents of the lake and woods to fill his lungs. He can tell that his breathing is slowing, subconsciously. It was as if the air around the crowd, and for him specifically, has grown both lighter and heavier at the same time.
When his eyes would open, he noticed that Roman and Mina are on stage, singing and dancing. Seeing the two haunting figures intertwined was something he knew would happen, but it still stirred his emotions nonetheless. He stilled his mind, to the best of his abilities, as he hearkened back to what Roman had said to him. This isn't them, per se. The spirits are now their guide and their physical bodies their vessels.
Still. Subconsciously, or perhaps consciously, his eyes were fixed on Mina. Her form, her figure, and the air around her. It all spoke to him. Sure, the gods they called on this night were foreign to him. Sure, the chants heard tonight were not in Alidashtian. Sure, the dances tonight resembled nothing from back home. All of this meant nothing. All Munir knew, in that moment, is that he wanted the woman, wearing clothing fit for the ceremony, dancing under the light of the moon and fires that surrounded them...
Time: 23rd, Evening Location: A Masquerade in a Stuffy Place Interactions: Mentions: Peter @JJ Doe & Perslivia @Potter Mask & Masquerade (Note: pants)
Whooo, Stratya could pick the Queen out from a mile away. It really reminded her of what a hornet's nest she was in. She'd needed a lot of etiquette training after her knighting, and she'd hated all of it. Well, there were bits that were fun, but the strictness of it all had been a real damper. She found she was able to apply some things to her daily life, at least. Posture helped her improve her swordplay, and she'd at least managed to get some formal music training out of it all- was that her fife she brought? Her hand had brushed past it on her hip. Had the Prince not noticed or not cared? Maybe he hadn't seen it, for everything else. It was a little bit behind her, on her hip, but having it did give her an idea. She hadn't really formed her costume around any kind of theme, but she'd brought an instrument, so some kind of musician, then. She'd work on it.
At any rate, she should participate. She reminded herself again that she was very firmly off-duty, and began to look for someone to talk to. Maybe someone that looked like they also felt out of place? A wine glass in hand, the disguised Knight meandered, unsure of how she would even strike up conversation. She was puzzling and delaying when suddenly
Where's me fife gone?
In the middle of everything, her fife had disappeared from its holster. Off-duty or not, this occurrence did flip a certain switch. Stratya's eyes scanned her surroundings with new purpose. Others were missing things. She could see by their body language. She saw confusion on a nearby face, and listened closely to hear that he had gained a possession, before he also discovered he was missing a pocket watch. A quick check of her pockets found such a thing. She approached the man, the pocket watch in her hand, "is this yehrs? It was in my pocke', embarrassingly. I'm missing m'fife, m'self," Stratya turned her hip to show the empty holster, "what kind of bard am I, eh? Oh, that one's not yours? Ooh, waily. That's me fife, though, thank yuh. C'mon, then, shall go find yer watch, and whoever this belongs to?"
The stranger's watch wasn't far, and he parted from her company at that point, leaving Stratya to sort out this little mess on her own. She also trapped her fife with the pull-cable to her hidden weapon. Whoever perpetrated this mischief was playing with fire.
Time: Night Location: Damien Estate Ballroom Interaction(s):Persephone Olivia @Potter; Leon Lionheart @Helo; Pink lady @Rodiak
Peter’s chest puffed up like a balloon, pride and satisfaction fizzed within, as Olivia’s tension visibly eased. Each switcheroo he pulled off brightened her face, lighting it up with awe.
Eager to ride the momentum and end on a high note, Peter scanned the room for his next mark. A guy decked out in red and gold drew his attention. With the number of lion-themed accessories on him, you’d think he wanted to represent a whole Pride. The full-faced lion mask, tiny lion head cufflinks, and the most out-of-place (but also the most comfortable looking) lion slippers roared overcompensation. That or Leon Lionheart had a thing for lions.
A smirk curled his lip when he spotted the one anomaly in the man’s ensemble that didn’t roar: a sleek, un-lion-like pocket watch. Catching Olivia’s eye, he tapped his nose twice, pointed at his eyes, then flicked his gaze to the lion-man. Watch closely.
Peter smoothly closed the distance between him and Leon Lionheart, tracking the lion-man’s movements, the rhythm of his breathing, the sway of his posture. Timing was key. The second he got distracted, Peter slipped in. A quick flick and the watch was his, some other noble’s trinket in its place.
Job done. Now where to dump the loot? His eyes settled on two women, one swallowed in pink and the other in orange and gold. Guiding Olivia near them, Peter suddenly stopped and faced her. “A dance, m’lady?” Bowing deep, he rose with a wink. Play along, he mouthed.
When she accepted, Peter let out a dramatic sigh of relief, exclaiming, “Oh, you have no idea how—” His words broke off as he “accidentally” backed into the women. The bump was gentle, a fleeting contact, but either Orange was too plastered to stand or she was frail as a dried flower because that little bump sent Orange crashing into her pink friend.
A genuine “shit” escaped Peter and he reached out to catch her fall. Fortunately for all of them, Pink was made of sterner stuff than Orange. She steadied both herself and her friend before they tumbled onto the floor.
After some apologies and assurances that everyone was okay, Peter whisked Olivia away to the dance floor, leaving Leon Lionheart’s pocket watch dangling from the back of Orange’s golden waist piece.
As Peter assumed his position, he cleared his throat, shaking off the awkwardness. “And that,” he declared, “is how you do it.”
In the nick of time, too. A ripple of unrest was brewing among some of the guests. Most were just scratching their heads, puzzled at how in the world their stuff rearranged themselves. The handful who were the butt of Peter's swapping prank began to notice that they had something that wasn’t theirs. He savored the scene with no small amount of smugness. Then, he caught sight of Blue, the fife-wielding fighter, eyeing the crowd. A shiver of thrill raced through him. She looked like she was on the hunt.
Peter took a pocket watch from Leo. In the process of planting it onto Riona, he caused her to collide into Nahir. After all that, Peter led Olivia to the dance floor. He noticed Stratya on alert. @Potter@Helo@Rodiak@CitrusArms
Time: Night Location: Damien Estate Ballroom Interaction(s): Shehzadi Nahir @Rodiak
Part of Riona wondered if the so-called “dragon who enjoys pouring sweet beverages on lovely women” was none other than Shehzadi Nahir herself—a warning, maybe, not to cross her—or an entirely different person.
Feeling soft lips brush her hand, she became acutely aware that Shehzadi Nahir and Shahzade Munir shared more than just a familial name; a penchant for flirtation ran deep in al-Kadir’s bloodline. Despite herself, Riona couldn’t help but smile in amusement at the thought. A smile which widened further when the Shehzadi asked Riona, of all people, to be her dance partner. Unexpected, to be sure, but…
Just then, Riona felt herself pushed forward, she reached out instinctively to catch her balance. Her hands found purchase not on the floor but on Shehzadi Nahir. Her arms wrapped tightly around the other woman and her fingers clenched handfuls of delicate roses. Heart pounding, Riona realized she was clinging to the Saltun’s daughter in a most improper embrace.
A thousand and one worries should’ve flooded her in that panic-stricken moment: the impropriety of touching the Shehzadi so, how any harm to her could spark a diplomatic incident, and so much more. Yet, what worried Riona the most was damaging the exquisite garment. What if she ripped out the roses or tore the gown from its seams? Would she be able to sew it back together? If not, how many years of her salary would it take to compensate for the ruined dress? Or would they demand retribution and chop off her hands instead? F**k.
The weasel-man who accidentally bumped into her offered his apologies and, after ensuring that no one was injured, swiftly departed with his date. All the while Riona remained fixed in place, unable to trust herself to move without messing up something. Only guided by the Shehzadi’s steadying hands did Riona disentangle herself, inch by wary inch.
Her cheeks aflame, Riona said, “I am rather accident-prone tonight. A dance with me might cost you dearly—a toe, perhaps, or your dignity, should we tumble for all to see.” With a curtsy, she added, “Knowing this, will you brave such risks, my lady?”
Riona extended her hand. “If you dare, then the dance is yours, surprises and all.”
One of the guests bumped into Riona and she collided with Nahir. Luckily Nahir caught them both and they didn’t fall. Riona asked if Nahir would still want to dance with her. @Rodiak
Time:Evening Location: Calbert's Estate Interaction: @Helo Leo @JJ Doe Count Fritz @Samreaper Kazumin " But what of you, Lady Butterfly? That... little episode you recently demonstrated?"
This is certainly Kazumin. Now that I am honing in on his voice I know for certain.
Charlotte's fingers delicately interwove as she pondered best how to answer that question. He had certainly noticed her reaching out toward nothing. Though, there was no telling what she looked like as the false imagery had unfolded before her.
"Well I... I don't know." She found herself sliding into the chair that had been pulled out and her gaze moved to Count Fritz, "Hi there. You look lovely. Oh..." She hesitated then added in answer to his question, I'm alright, and you?" She returned the smile, then glanced toward Kazumin. She hadn't wanted to particularly have a detective meeting without Leo, but she knew Kazumin had wanted to tell her something in private. She wondered if he too had plans for the night. Nevertheless, it was best he let her know soon so that she could bring Leo back into the conversation so as to not offend him too much. She had felt that her behavior could have come off rather rude toward him.
Zarai would never forget the shine of her hair. Even here in the dim light of the chandeliers, she could see the cascade of black shine brighter than any gem she’d seen before. She squealed into the fan and rubbed her cheeks. So beautiful! How could a living person be so perfect? Ignoring the judgmental looks that were shot her way, Zarai cleared her throat and gathered herself before picking up her skirts and strutting toward Shehzadi Layla.
“It is a beautiful night, made only more beautiful by your presence.” Zarai used her fan to hide the lower portion of her face, just for good measure. “You look absolutely stunning, my lady.” She lowered her fan briefly to curtsy low. Low enough to show off the shimmer powder she’d used on her chest.
Layla couldn’t help but stare at her. The way the dress hugged her body and the mane of red hair around her face. Her breath caught, and it wasn’t until she was coming closer, did she remember to breathe. A haughty smirk accompanied her expression as she eyed her up and down. This was real, right? It was quiet around her. The obnoxious vampiric guests weren’t audible to her. It was as if her heart was in her stomach.
”Hey little red.” Layla greeted Zarai with amusement. She watched her curtsy. Her gaze followed her and took in the sight. Then, she turned away at the last second and waited for her to straighten up. ”Nice costume. It seems someone genius thought of it, no?” She teased and curtsied herself in Alidasht fashion, far more politely than she had greeted anyone else, and then lingered for a second. She straightened up after a moment and smirked down at her. ”It would be unfair for us to keep our outfits to ourselves. We are the best looking of course,”
Zarai’s smile widened at the new nickname Layla had so graciously bestowed upon her. If she had a tail, she’d be wagging it happily right now. “The genius is the one who thought of this.” She motioned to Layla’s whole person. The dress was a work of art by itself, but with Layla in it, it was a masterpiece. Would Layla stand for her if Zarai offered to paint her?
“It’d be a crime against the gods not to show off your beauty, Your Highness.” But sinning came just as easy as breathing to Zarai, and all she wanted to do now was take her away.
She gestured to the door and offered her arm to Zarai; once she accepted, she headed to the door. However, she paused as she noticed an older regal couple that looked as if they might cause one of them to trip and glared daggers at them through her mask. The couple blinked with surprise, then abruptly moved out of their way. Layla smirked and led Zarai into the Damien Estate. If someone makes me fall, I will ruin their fucking life.
Zarai scoffed at the couple, recognizing them instantly. Lord and Lady Kartz, members of nobility from Poerto Vira. Lady Kartz had been her governess for three years. The woman had her mother’s blessings when it came to discipline. Zarai’s calves had never been redder during those years.
As they walked by, Zarai gracefully kicked Lady Kartz’s knee, making the woman stumble forward and into another masked couple in front of them. Her giggles almost drowned out the whore that came out of that woman’s mouth.
Layla looked around the grand hall with bemusement. Her gaze scanned very intricate detail, down to the polished floor. This will have to do I guess. She turned as the crowd began watching both of them. With Layla’s darker complexion compared to Zarai’s paler one, it was unmistakable she was one of the Shehzadi. With a sigh, she ignored the onlookers and turned instead to gaze at her partner. ”I think it’s obvious we’re the best dressed,” Layla whispered to Zarai as she scanned the room for the food table.
Her gaze slipped over some of the other guests; there was a man dressed as a wolf, a …raven it appeared, a butterfly girl and a lion. Amusement spread over her like wildfire as she realized just who the butterfly girl may have been. As long as the ridiculous duo didn't bother her, overcome near her and her date, she would leave them be. Her gaze moved away from the guests and onto a corner of the room where the food table appeared. Were those…crab legs?
Layla grinned and nudged Zarai gently as she gestured to it. ”Hungry? I bet you’re working up an appetite looking like a five course meal.” Her voice was teasing as she turned away with a haughty smirk. ”We can sit away from all these clumsy looking people and eat in peace. It doesn’t look crowded yet. And judge them from afar.” Layla chortled to herself as she glanced over some of the guests' appearances.
“I am hungry…” Zarai hummed, returning the haughty smirk. “But I’ll be sure to leave enough room for a dessert.” Her eyes ravished the beauty of the woman next to her with hungry eyes for a second before she remembered who exactly she was staring at. No matter how often she blinked, Layla was still there in all her glory. And no less attached to her by the arm.
Zarai led the way, glaring through her mask at anyone who dared to stand in their way. If only Fritz could see her right now parading around the ball with a shehzadi in her arm. Would he be impressed? She looked around briefly, almost in hopes of spotting his raven hair.
Layla chortled and nodded in agreement. Saving room for dessert would be wise. Whenever she caught Zarai staring, Layla would smirk. They were receiving plenty of stares, and for good reason. While they strode through the room, she also glared at anyone and noticed people parted out of their way which caused her great amusement.
“Did you see the woman at the entrance? The one with the peacock feathers? What a mess. It looks like the poor bird was shot down right on top of her.” Zarai said once they arrived at the food tables. “Thank goodness she is wearing a mask, or she’d be shamed for such a crime against fashion.”
Once they reached the table, laughter bubbled out of Layla’s mouth. ”I did see! The poor thing. That poor peacock deserved better. I wonder if we should invite her over out of pity?” She sat down and pulled out the seat for Zarai and studied her gently. Her hair looked beautiful and silky, and the red mane complimented her beautifully.
With her heart racing, Layla glanced around and noticed her sister, but didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, she turned back to Zarai and snapped her fingers as waiters rushed over to serve them. ”My dear Rai, what would you like?”
You. Zarai cleared her throat, pushed those thoughts away, and ordered a few crab legs instead of the whole plate she’d wished to have. It’d probably put Layla off if she witnessed Zarai devouring a whole plate of crab legs, so for now, that would have to wait. Maybe she could sneak off and grab a few extra ones.
“And a double whiskey on the rocks.” Nothing like some liquid courage to help with the lack of Alidashtian herbs. After she was done, she watched Layla as she ordered. The glistening of the dress reflected off her rich skin. It almost looked like she was sparkling herself under the candlelight. How could someone look so perfect without even trying?
Layla grinned at her response - crab legs were an excellent choice. She ordered crab legs as well, along with shrimp and marinara sauce. She also ordered hibiscus iced tea along with vodka and cranberry. She watched as the waiter moved away and glanced at Zarai. Her ginger hair was beautiful, sleek and shiny. Her petite frame next to her taller one was amusing to her as well.
Zarai couldn’t stop staring at Layla. Perfect in every way. The way she spoke, the way she moved, and even the way she ordered people around was so captivating. As soon as Layla looked back at her, Zarai flashed a wide grin. “Would you like to dance? After this, I mean, not like right now. Unless you’d want to, but then the food would get cold. So after?” So smooth, Zarai.
”Of course.” Layla grinned and leaned over to her. She eyed the dancefloor pitifully and glanced at her with the utmost confidence and haughtiness. ”Dancing is my specialty.” She moved over and brushed a piece of red hair out of her eyes. ”We’ll put these pathetic people to shame.”
Gods be forsaken for creating such a beautiful woman. Fuck them for making her so irresistibly and intimidatingly confident. The hair on the back of her hair stood when she felt her skin grace against her own, and a tingle made her back straighten up. Zarai couldn’t think being so close to Layla, and fuck was it annoying. She wanted to ask her things! Her favorite color, her favorite foods, her favorite positions– Zarai pinched herself discreetly and smiled at Layla.
“Yes! They’ll be green with envy when they see us strutting and spinning like majestic birds!” Really, she should just do what her mother said. Calladita te ves mas bonita.
“So, will you and your siblings stay here all season?” Zarai finally managed to ask after going in circles in her mind. “
Layla could not help but admire Zarai. Her ginger hair was gorgeous against her red dress and framed her beautifully. It was a wonder how she agreed to be with someone like her. Someone as icy and cold as her. Someone as perfect as her deserved the world, the universe, and Layla promised herself she would provide that.
”Most definitely.” She grinned and nodded to Zarai. ”We are here for the season, those of us who remain anyway.” She watched the dancers briefly then turned to see what appeared to be her sister mingling through the crowd. With a smirk she turned back to Zarai as the waiter arrived with their food. She smiled and began piling up her food as she glanced at her. “Ready to eat, Mi amour?”
Zarai wanted to inquire about the dinner she’d heard about. Had food and plates really been thrown as she had heard some of the maids whisper? Had Shehzadi Mayet really hit on Count Vikena and thrown that machete when she was rejected? Zarai wiggled in her seat, trying to form those questions, but as soon as the smell of food hit her nose, everything washed away from her mind.
“Yes!” She grinned at Layla, not bothering to hide the blush of her cheeks at the pet name.
Was this real? Had she really captured the attention of THE Shehzadi Layla? Or was this just a ploy? Her chest tugged harshly, and her smile wavered as she loaded her plate with crab legs. Could this just be for her own amusement? What princess would want to be around some loose woman? Did Layla only see her as that? Did everyone?
Zarai tried to seek comfort in the ample supply of delicious mouth-watering crab legs, but no matter how much butter she poured, the queasiness of doubt continued to bubble in her stomach.
Layla smirked at the blush that appeared on Zarai’s cheeks at the mention of the pet name. She wanted to say more, but the aroma of food wafted over her. She began eating hungrily and her gaze wandered over to the dance floor. She watched as people danced and raised her eyebrows. Their traditions were peculiar; she wondered who had invented their dance moves. Then, remembering Edin ran this crappy country, laughed into her crab legs.
It was then she noticed how quiet Zarai had become and glanced over at her. ”Mi amour?” Layla inquired and tried her best to not let her frown become visible. Lest her guards knew, the better. ”Something amiss, Mi Amour?” They may not have been close yet, however Layla could tell something was wrong. ”Is the food not satisfactory?”
Had Zarai begun to wonder if she could find a better partner? Was she eating too noisily? Hafiz had always chastised her about the way she ate…..
Zarai was quick with a reassuring smile and a shake of her head, “Well, I suppose the food is a tad too salty for my tastes, but that’s Caesonian cuisine for you.” Her eyes wandered to the side of Layla, her smile wavering again for a split second.
Layla scrutinized her and then decided not to push it. If Zarai wanted to speak her mind, then she would. She set her hands and wiped them off with a napkin. Then, she reached over and took her spare hand, not caring if it was dirty. ”I can bitch out the chief should you want me too.” Her voice was teasing, but earnest. ”And if you want to dance, then we shall dance.” She released her hand and then went back to eating, albeit self consciously, and making sure to be extra polite.
“While it might be fun to complain to the chef, I would not like to keep you from enjoying the rest of the ball. Besides, the butter makes up for it!” Zarai rubbed her thumb over the spot Layla had held her hand. She did not wish to be a bother to the Shehzadi, nor a burden. In a quick flash, Zarai finished the rest of her crab legs with the graces of a starved child, shoving the meat into her already bulging cheeks, and stood from her seat. With one gulp, she downed her whiskey and turned to Layla.
“Your Royal Highness, sharing a meal with you was lovely.” Zari curtsied in a hurried way, her eyes down, worried she would see the displeasure on Layla’s face. “I hope you can forgive my hasty departure, and I hope you will dance with me in the future– but I think I might be needed elsewhere.” Without giving Layla much time to respond, Zarai hurried away from the tables, hands fumbling to pull out something from one of her hidden pockets.
Time: Evening Location: Damien Estate Masquerade Interactions: @JJ Doe Peter Mentions: @Helo Leo; @Rodiak Nahir @JJ Doe Riona Aesthetic: braid owl mask dress and accessoriesOlivia watched starstruck as Peter tracked down Leo. A ripple of laughter bubbled inside and she covered her mouth to conceal it. The idea of messing with Leo was one of the best ideas yet. The way he frowned upon peasants always rubbed her the wrong way. She genuinely did not understand how someone could be so blind to the suffering of the non noble or wealthy.
Next, Peter escaped the fray and offered to dance. His wink caused her cheeks to blush and was grateful the mask obscured her face. ”Why, I’d be flattered. What a gentleman. ” Olivia teased as she bit her lip to quit laughing. Then, she watched as he bumped into two women, one in orange and the other in pink. Olivia’s eyes widened once she realized the darker skin lady was one of the Shehzadi. Of fucking course. Oh no Peter! What did you do?” Quickly, he recovered, and then pulled her back into a dance. Unsure of what to say, Olivia was silent until he spoke and then struggled to contain her laughter once more. She buried her head against his shoulder to stifle it. She could hear the unrest and once she reopened her eyes and removed her head, glanced around. That’s when she noticed the female knight, Stratya, on the hunt.
Olivia gently grasped Peter’s hand and slipped through the crowd stealthily. It took only a few seconds, but she weaved through the crowd effortlessly, ducking and dodging at the right moments and remained silent. In th back of her mind, she hoped that had impressed him as well. Once she finished moving, she saw they were farther away and now mixed into the crowd. Liv scanned the area and noticed nothing, so she sighed with relief then embraced him gently. They were closer together now which only caused her to blush more fiercely.
”Best to blend in.” Olivia told him as she struggled to hold back a shy smile. ”And ruder to interrupt a dance, no?” She moved with the music and giggled. ”The fun’s not over yet though, I suppose.” Olivia wondered where Charlotte was, but had trouble locating her in the thick crowd of people. She didn't dare use magic and risk detection. She had spotted Queen Alibeth and Prince Wulfric while she moved through the crowd which only nauseated, yet excited her.
Time: Evening Location: Damien Estate Interactions: Fritz @JJ Doe Charlotte @Princess Mentions: Olivia @Potter Attire: ???
With thanks to Fritz's suggestion, the trio found themselves a somewhat more secluded spot for a bit more privacy. Or as much privacy as one could get at a costume party.
Along the way, the masked servant would be approached by sir Fritz, whom by their expression looked to have a somewhat worrisome expression, met by confusion from him.
“Do you intend to harm anyone?”
The gentleman's words left Mr. V to momentarily drop his facade as he could not keep himself from looking at the man like he was crazy. Immediately after, he let out an airy chuckle with a playful dismissive wag of his index finger." Harm anyone? Never, good sir! Though I do understand your worries due the prior interruptions poor timing." Letting out another small, amused chuckle.
There he would step in and lean closer." I assure you that no such thoughts nor intent ever passed my mind." He whispered; gloved hand obscuring his lips." I'm not one of those radical sorts. Nay, my need for such request is for more...." Tilting his head to ponder how to best explain, then gave a smile much like that of the cheshire cat." I merely wish to entertain, but alas mere words simply will not do...that is why I am in need of a bit of.... mhmmm...pizzazz if you will?" Wiggling his fingers in a magical way to end his explanation with a charming wink. Plus, if the need arises it could serve as an emergency escape for him.
Stepping back, where he then coughed into his closed fist." I understand this is not an easy request, so I simply ask you think on it... at least for the moment." Finishing with a respectful bow.
With that dealt with, Mr. V was ready to proceed though briefly halted when Fritz started to pull out a seat for him. Thankfully the gentleman self-corrected with an apologetic look of which he nodded in return.
Seeing as he was a mere servant. He would remained standing and posed, ready to serve, leaving Fritz to speak first which he was content with. All this hoighty toighty talking and butt kissing left a bad taste in his mouth.
While Fritz spoke with Charlotte at the moment, he would take this moment to study the room to see where the host was; best to know where the enemy is and all. But, also to check on Percy who seemed to be enjoying herself with this Peter. Eyebrows knitting in a mixture of worry and delight to see his oldest friend getting to enjoy herself. He had much to talk with her too, but that would have to wait.
A reluctant sigh as he forced himself to look back at the group and much like Fritz, his mind was a whirl storm of thoughts and planning; more reasons why he appreciated this chance to slow down and get a breather. And to hear that Charlotte seemed to be fine, though uncertain of whatever it was she experienced. Simply another point to discuss in the near future added to the list; said list already concerningly long as is and likely will escalate even worse, if his speculations prove to have merit to them.
"Uhm... you wanted to tell me something, yes?"
A number of things he wished to tell her in fact and much to talk about, but something else nagged on his mind more than anything. The masked servant would stand there with right index finger pressed to his lips in pondering fashion, trying to decide the best way to proceed.
A few moments later, Mr. V would smile with a clearing of the throat." Ahem, apologies. Had some last-minute thoughts I needed to peruse over. And more apologies to you, Sir Fritz as there is something of import I musk Lady Charlotte before proceeding."
This time it was Charlotte's turn for him to lean close and whisper." I'm glad you're alright so far... just please let us know if any bad effects pop up." He started, putting a hold on the facade, his concerns taking precedent." As for... the matter I wish to discuss, but before we can, there is something I need to check and I feel you're the only one who confirm or not..."
Biting his lip, almost worried that merely asking might make the possibility very real." Char...did Lady Violet say anything or show desire towards coming to this party or that other one going on..that..ritual party or something by that huge bear of a man or something?" Mr. V asked though fearing he rambled on too much." Basically, I'm asking if you spoke to her prior and if so, if she expressed interest in the events?"
Time: The Evening of Sola 23rd Location: Damien Estate Ballroom Mentions/Interactions:@SilverPaw Wulfric, @princess Calbert
Clad in the black and gold glory of his meticulously crafted masquerade ensemble, Cassius paraded and swayed through the elegant and timeless ballroom with all the smugness and swagger of a very proud man. That pride swelled with each step, fueled by the knowledge that he had left an indelible impression on Prince Wulfric. It might not have been the impression he initially intended, but the good prince would remember his name and when all is said and done that in of itself was enough for Cas to feel as though he had won the night. To be remembered is the only real victory, after all.
Other meetings unfolded and impressions were made as Cassius wove through the crowd, the grand ballroom becoming a stage for his theatrics of picking moments to mingle and grace the beautiful nobility in attendance with his presence…wielding his special brand of charm and grandeur as his weapon of choice for the evening. Each interaction, no matter how small, became a piece of the intricate social tapestry being interlaced within the walls of the Damien Estate as Cassius continued to feign ignorance of the fact that his father was approaching from across the room. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Evening of Sola 23rd, Twelve Years Ago
In the dense forest a few miles outside the small Varian village of Dren, rain poured relentlessly, turning the ground into a muddy battlefield. A younger Cassius, no older than 15, clad in worn-out clothes, stood shivering in the harsh cold. Across from him stood a cruel mercenary trainer named Balen, who was known for his ruthless methods…one of the Iron Wolves finest.
Balen’s voice cut through the sound of raindrops hitting the leaves as he barked orders. "Again! You call that an attack? Pathetic!"
Cassius, struggling to maintain his balance in the slippery terrain as exhausted as he was, raised his sword weakly and attempted a strike. Balen swiftly dodged the attack, delivering a harsh blow to the young man's side. He winced in pain but did not fall. He knew what would happen if he fell.
"You're weak, Vael! If you can't handle a little rain, how are you gonna make it through a real battle?" The brute’s words were laced with disdain. Despite the fatigue and pain, Cassius returned to his attack position. Mud clung to his clothes and matted his hair..his eyes, however, burned with determination. The trainer circled him, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "You're not worth the coin they're paying me, boy…but I'll make something out of you yet. Do it again!"
Once more Cassius lunged towards his trainer, this time with a flurry of attacks. Each one grew in desperation from the last, but again not even one of his strikes landed. Balen’s fist thrusted upwards into Cas’s ribs hard, the sound of the thud could be heard even over the thunder that rumbled in the evening sky. It was as though the gods themselves laughed at his failure. The pain was severe, but the rage building in him was worse.
“It’s a pity, Vael…they send you boys to me when they think they see something in you. I’m really REALLY starting to think they were…” Before Balen could finish his words Cassius flung his head forwards with every ounce of desperate anger and vitriol within him, smashing his own skull into the bridge of Balen’s nose. The man went stumbling backwards, grabbing at his face as Cas slipped and fell hard into the mud below. As he laid there he saw stars from the impact.
A thunderous scream of rage and pain emerged from Balen in the seconds that followed. The resonance of which may as well have shaken the very earth like the thunder that roared had moments ago. “You…You broke my fucking nose you worthless, good for nothing piece of shit.” The tone in Balen’s voice was more than enough to make Cassius realize the severity of what he had just done. Slowly, his rage began to turn into fear…but then, Balen’s tone shifted. “GOOD. YES!” The man exclaimed, almost joyously. “That’s the fucking spirit, Vael! Maybe the little welp can be a Wolf after all. Now, get off your ass and come at me again.” The man spit a mouthful of blood and at least one shattered tooth out onto the mud as he wiped the blood from his nose and head, using his free hand to offer Cassius help up. “We’re not done.”
Location: Unknown Time: Sola 23 / Night Interactions: ???
Many moments had passed since Violet was abducted from the balcony. Snatched up by the very man who glared at her with enmity at the tea party. The young woman was splayed out with her back against the white silk sheets of a bed fitting for two. Unmasked with a glint of moonlight creeping into the room from between the window curtains.
“Wake up, my little raven.” Alexander's voice was but a whisper from his lips that grazed her ear. “Wake up.” he whispered once more, this time his lips were at her neck. A subtle taste of her was all that was needed to take him. It was in this instance, she became his captor. He was hers.
He couldn't help but do it again, this time without the whisper. And again. And again. He found his body moving closer to hers with each kiss as he continued to desire more. She was in ecstasy. She was his new addiction. He wanted to take her now but his desire was for her to want it. To yearn for his embrace that he could barely hold back. To permit him to remove clothes from flesh. To let him learn her body better than anyone else could.
It was all but a dream for Violet…
“Wake up!”
There was no bed. No kisses. No intimate embrace. Instead, Alexander was standing over her whole she laid on the floor with scattered strands of hay.
Violet woke with a loud gasp as the air filled her lungs, her mind spinning with the remnants of the strange dream. She shot forward in the mound of hay with her hand gripping around her throat. Her neck felt tight and sore to the touch as her body continued to fill its lungs in a panic. She tried to speak, she tried to yell but the damage to her throat only allowed small cracks of noises to escape her lips. But then…
The smell…
Her eyes perked up as the heavenly scent of blood filled her nose. The blood she hadn’t smelt before as tiny whimpers echoed around her.
Unmasked and with a scowl on his face, Alexander spoke up once more. “You've let yourself get so weak. Do you have any idea how long you've been slumped on the ground like a ragdoll?” Alexander scolded before shaking his head. Over a half hour had passed since she was taken. The carriage ride, the arrival, and even the set up for tonight's small brief event. She had slept through it all.
Violet's ears perked as she heard the voice, the voice from the dream. Who was he? Why was she here? Why did he try to kill her? Was he the one who killed her? The questions circled loudly through her thoughts. All the while, Alexander remained silent, granting her a brief moment to sort herself.
Slamming her fist on the ground Violet attempted to shout at him, the stranger, but it only came out as raspy noises. Frustrated and after a few more attempts at mumbled shouts she finally managed a few words.
“Who-are…you!” She growled between her clenched teeth but Alexander seemed unfazed. Instead of answering her question, he crouched and swiftly grabbed ahold of her jaw with his gloves hand. Despite only being caught between his index finger and thumb, his grasp on her was powerful.
Violet felt a growl grow deep in her chest as her eyes narrowed inwards as she felt his powerful grip on her jaw, she had never felt such strength from someone with just two fingers. Whoever this was, he wasn’t playing around.
“Hush.” His voice was quiet and sharp. His face now held a more neutral expression as he peered into Violet's crimson eyes. “I will give you my name in due time.” He released her from his grip before offering her the same pain-inflicting hand to hold.
Violet knew she was out matched here. Her body was simply too weak to even try to fight him off and the luck of her brother stepping in to help was slim to happen again. Seeing a shadow of a hand reach out towards her she slapped it away before helping herself to her feet. She fell backwards slightly into the wall behind her as she stumbled on her feet, her head dizzy from the attack. This only brought on a sigh of disappointment from Alexander as he watched her struggle.
“Why do you all insist on attacking me and not finishing the job?” She asked softly, her voice still raspy but she was finding it easier to talk now. Alexander declined to answer yet another one of her questions. Violet felt her hand instinctively rest around her neck as it continued to throb, red and swollen from the constricting of her windpipe. So feeble… She's almost in the same physical state as the boy.
Soft sounds of whimpering sobs echoed around them
There it was again… It wasn’t coming from Violet or Alexander's shadowed figure. The smell of blood was still thick in the air as it made her mouth slightly salivate.
“Who else is here…”
“Who? What? Where? When? Why? How?” He mocked her with a soft high-pitched voice. “Go find out. He can't quite move anymore and… he quite speak either. Shattered jaw and all... Come let's go take a look at your supper,” Alexander said nonchalantly.
Violet's red eyes narrowed on the man, she could feel her frustrations and anger grow within her belly. Her supper!? He had to be joking. Did he know? Did he do this…
“I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm not eating a human being!” Although the words escaped her lips, the sweet smell of blood in the air filled her nose giving her a euphoric feeling of need. Pulling herself out she had to remind herself she was stronger than that and this was clearly a trap. Whoever this was, he was testing the waters and she wasn’t going to budge.
Then the whimpers echoed again…
Violet's head turned into the direction of the sound, she could see a dark shadow slumped over onto the ground. It easily could have been confused with a pile of hay but the sound continued to come from it. Shutting her eyes she tried to ignore the man's cries. This wasn’t real… It was a terrible dream and she was about to wake up at any moment.
“This is disgustingly nostalgic.” Alexander nodded as he crossed his arms. His sleeves were rolled with his forearms still bearing the scratches Violet had inflicted.
Violet stood in silence, her back pressed against the wall. She felt her arms wrap around her chest for comfort as the situation continued to get stranger. If only her eyes would work she could find a way out of here.
“You can't deny it. What you are now. And I don't care how much you'd love to go back to your quaint life, it is beyond your grasp.” Alexander continued walking toward the body slumped in the darkness. “Something tells me you and this young man are not so different. I wouldn't have expected it from the daughter of an esteemed Count but you are…”
She felt the hairs on her skin rise as the more words he spoke the more she realized that he knew he had a hand in her death. Her fist clenched tightly as she felt angered with herself for not being stronger to repay the favor.
Alexander briefly stopped to turn to her. “Weak. Unbelievably so. Too weak to help yourself. Too weak to take the bad hand you've been dealt and overcome this sick game we're all forced to play.”
Violet pushed away from the wall turning towards the man, her red eyes bright in the darkness as she focused on him. “You’re wrong, I am not weak. I survived, and I will continue to do so WITHOUT hurting innocent people. I don't care what you think I am!”
“Think? Fine.” Alexander spoke as if he had let her win. He turned away from her and proceeded toward the whimperer. “Sorry, Darryn. She doesn't seem to be interested. Even after I made you so tempting.” Alexander took a seat beside Darryn, wrapping a friendly arm over his shoulders.
His voice sent a shiver down her spine, the way he spoke about the man as if he were just a simple snack he had before dinner. Was this her future that she was witnessing? Would she turn into this … monstrous being?
“Story of your life, unfortunately. But I can pity you. You didn't choose to be this pathetic and you can still serve a purpose.” Alexander smiled as he took a deep breath. The smell of the body's crimson nectar was something he couldn't quite ignore. It made him smile a toothy grin. A grin of teeth that was awfully peculiar. “I was no different than you once, and that is exactly why I am so invested. You can't have both… Come. Come here my scarlet-eyed raven and join us.”
Scarlet… what a name.
The pungent aroma of blood hung heavy in the air, relentlessly teasing her senses. With each passing moment, the scent seemed to creep deeper into her consciousness, whispering its dark allure to her vulnerable mind. But Violet, despite her inner turmoil, refused to succumb to the temptation.
The man's words were like sharp claws scratching at her sanity. His twisted thoughts seemed to wrap around her like a suffocating vine, pushing her to doubt her identity. Every fiber of her being rebelled against his insidious influence, but a part of her couldn't help but be enticed by the alluring taste of the sweet honey she once tasted.
With a surge of frustration, Violet defiantly shook her head, trying to cast off his charm. "NO," she declared, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and strength. Her words echoed through the eerie silence, carrying an unmistakable conviction.
“No? Did you hear her Darryn? She still won't bite.” Tears and blood rolled down the stable boy's beaten face. With an abrupt movement, Alexander was back on his feet.
"I will do more than just scratch up your arm if you continue to imply that you have a single thought of who or what I am." she threatened, her voice now laced with an eerie calmness. Her warning held a dark promise that she would not waver from, no matter the outcome. Though the path of darkness called a siren song, Violet stood strong, unwavering in her refusal to embrace the monstrous destiny that others sought to impose upon her. She would not be swayed by the desires of a single man.
“And the lies continue.” Alexander started to slowly walk toward Violet. “You won't hurt me, because you can't.” Violet could see his dark shape getting closer. His voice becoming clearer. “And I know exactly what you are because…” His fist crashed into the pit of her stomach.
Breath shot out from her lungs and she leaned over attempting to catch herself. Her lungs battled for air as her fists balled up. Her eyes widened with shock at the situation at hand. Violet let out a gasping breath as she tried to shoot herself forward trying to escape but her foot caught on the train of her dress. Even with this folly, she should have at least barreled into her assailant but instead, she hit the ground. Several horses woke with the commotion, neighing loudly due to being startled.
Alexander had not been in front of Violet when she tumbled as his movements were deftly quick. While gasping for breath, she felt his firm hand clench the back of her neck.
“Do you see what you did, Scarlet? You scared the horses.” Alexander started to drag Violet by her neck toward Darryn's body. Letting out a cry, Violet thrashed around violently in his grasp as her body was dragged so easily along the floor. Her legs kicking and and pulling, her hands grasping towards his arm trying to break free of his hold. “Stop it!” She shouted as tears formed in her eyes, the panic and fear clear in her voice as it cracked.
“You even forced my hand. I do not enjoy putting my hands on women this way but you leave Darryn and I no choice.” Alexander continued to drag her until he was right before the bleeding stable boy. The same boy who had been spared from execution just two days before. Violet's crimson eyes laid on the withering shadow as the smell of blood became too strong. She could feel her body fight against her mind in a dark clash of morality as tears streamed down her face. Her body trembled in Alexander’s grip as she could feel her mind slowly losing to the primal feeling that swelled over her.
“I went through the trouble of preparing him for you. Giving you the very thing you need. What you crave. Now consume!” He declared as he shoved her face-first into immobile beaten young man. Without any more hesitation, the blood touched violets lips sending a fury of hunger over her. It felt as if the flood gates had been sealed for so long, when they finally opened an animalistic hunger took over.
Violet’s eyes widened with rage as her mouth closed around the stable boy's neck, her teeth sinking into his flesh as streams of red liquid honey flowed into her mouth. Tears still streamed down her pale face as she could feel herself pulling the life from the weakened man whose whimpers tickled her ear.
Alexander crept to Violet's side, comfortingly rubbing her back as she fed “Good girl. Look at how strong you are. Feel what you are now. It isn't good but it is who you are now,” he encouraged in a hushed voice. “You and I are not so different. That is why I care.” The rubbing stopped but his hand was still present as he bore his fangs and plunged them into the other side of Darryn's neck. A deep growl bellowed from Violet's throat as she continued to feast on the man, her fingers digging into the stable boy's skin as blood dripped down her chin like a child.
The blood began to drain quicker than anticipated. She could feel the life of the body fade as his once warm flesh turned gray and limp in their grasp. Violet's eyes fixated on Alexander, adjusting as if stepping into the light after being in a dark room for so long. She could see his face, she could see the hunger that consumed him as he too fed on the boy. His clean-cut hair and pale skin along with his masquerade attire, he had been watching her and it was only now that she could see that.
With a swift motion of her hand she threw her weight into a shove, attempting to push him off the body. Violet would savor each drop of the liquid gold that she had been needing, unwilling to share. Pulling the boy's limp body away from his grip she released her hold from him, unclenching her lips from his neck only to take over the spot that Alexander once held claiming the boy for herself.
“Good, Scarlett.” Alexander chuckled as he sat himself up. “Take as much as you'd like.” He couldn't keep the proud smile off his face as he stood up. “I'll make sure our frightened guests keep quiet. Just focus on what's left of your meal.”
Alexander proceeded to hush the horse, calming them as he sweetly whispered to them. Drawing too much attention would be the worst thing given the situation and where the two were.
“Shhhhh… Shhhhh… Everything is fine my friends… We're not here for you… Shhhhh…”
The life of the stable boy slowly slipped from her fingers as the darkness took over his eyes. Soon his whimpers turned to gurgles until he stopped breathing all together. Breaking from the boy Violet gasped for air as her head tossed back. Blood adorned her pale skin, dripping from her chin onto her dress and chest as her breathing was still ragged and hoarse.
It took only a moment until Violet realized what she had done. Seeing the mangled and gray body in her arms she swiftly pushed it away before shooting to her feet. Looking down at the lifeless form she stared in disbelief. Not only could she finally see, but the first thing her new eyes lay upon was that of the boy she had just murdered.
Panicked and with new tears forming in her eyes, Violet spun around running towards the only door to the stable.
“Don't you dare run. Alexander's voice cut through the silence. He was facing her from the center of the stable. “There's a carriage outside. Just for you and I. Wait there while I sort this mess to my liking.” He walked to a pile of hay and kicked an executioner sword that had been stashed beneath it.
“Go.” Though he did not raise his voice, it was commanding nonetheless. Looking back at Alexander, Violet paused for a moment her hands pressed against the barn door as she looked at the mess she just created.
The woman's disposition before her was unlike any of the noble ladies Nahir has the pleasure of entertaining. When they would play coy and meek, this one did not. Different for sure, but not unpleasant in any way. What was most appealing was the air of mystery the woman carried around her, which clung to the soft fabrics of her brightly colored dress and hung in the air like perfume. Or perhaps it was just the beautiful face with that beautiful smile that Nahir could not simply dismiss.
The shove was sudden, unexpected, and unwelcome. Nahir could have turned the man into stone if she could with the glare thrown his way. Nevertheless, she was somewhat grateful for the action, seeing as the lady now clung to her. A soft chuckle left her lips as she gently grabbed the woman by the forearms.
“Do Caesonians have a habit of causing such disarray towards my family every chance they get?” Nahir’s eyes softened as she guided the lady away to a more acceptable distance from her. Amusement tugged at her lips, seeing her own panic. Was the lady worried about her dress? How cute.
“What is a life worth living if not for the risks and surprises?” Nahir took the woman’s hand with a sly smile. “Worry not, my dear, I'll be sure to keep you close and steady.” She winked and guided her towards the middle of the dance floor.
Layla glowered as she watched Zarai’s lithe frame disappear into the crowd. She crossed her arms and watched the dancers flowing elegantly. Was it her fault? Was she doomed to be alone? What had she done to upset little red? Had she eaten too loudly? She had a weakness for crab legs. Layla’s mind raced with questions. Though outwardly she looked impassive, a fire burned inside of her. She would not dwell on these thoughts anymore… Her heart began pounding like a drum, as if she were on death row, and it was the last thing she’d hear.
Since she sat alone, she was able to scrutinize the dancers ahead of her. She saw the pathetic butterfly with a butler and another man beside her. Her eye roll could not be suppressed and she looked away before a string of insults could be formed. Her gaze settled on an awkward pair; a red haired girl with an owl mask dancing with a man and a weasel mask. The irony of their costumes caused her to chuckle derisively. Then, her gaze fell on her younger sister dancing with a woman? Her eyebrows rose as she watched with curiosity. Maybe her sister would enjoy herself better than she would at this mindless ball. What would the guards say? The others? She barely noticed the immense butterflies beginning to form inside of her.
With a sigh, Layla stood up and ignored everyone else beside her. While standing, a familiar ringing in her ears caused her to scowl. The ballroom quieted down and she flinched. Ali, who remained nearby but being mindful of her privacy, immediately came to her side.
”What is it? Are you okay?”
”I’m fine.” Layla retorted before she could think. The last thing she wanted was for people to see her right now. Unfortunately, the ballroom was packed so this was not an option.
The pain intensified and she bit her tongue hard - hard enough to cause blood to form. She scowled with fury and annoyance. Here, of all places? Why? Did the Gods truly hate her?
The ballroom began to tilt, and she stumbled as she tried to move away. Ali’s arm around her steadied her, which only infuriated her and caused her stomach to clench. Did he have to? In public? Layla gritted her teeth and through her hazy vision, noticed the ballroom backdoors. She strode towards it and heard a loud noise distantly. Who was breathing so obnoxiously? The questions remained unanswered. Layla didn’t notice, but she knocked someone out of her way, but couldn’t tell who it had been. A few heads now turned their way, and Layla distantly could hear people muttering like annoying little insects.
With a scowl she made it to the outdoors where she hurled herself out of sight and collapsed onto the ground. Behind her, Ali and a few of her other guards, followed.
Time: Evening Location: Damien Estate’s Ballroom Interaction(s): Lady Charlotte Vikena @princess; Mr. V (Kazumin Nagasa) @samreaper
“I'm alright, and you?”
Again. She did that again. Hurt surfaced in Ryn’s smile. “Disheartened,” he admitted.
He turned his head toward the other party attendees, keeping one ear attuned to the murmured exchange between Mr. V and Lady Vikena, as his eyes roved over the sea of masks in search of the weasel. It did not take long to spot Peter engaged in a spirited dance with Ms. Persephone. Their movements were delightfully out of sync with the music. There was an anarchic charm in their carefree twirls and steps. A twinge of guilt pricked at Ryn at the thought of interrupting their merriment.
Raising a hand, Ryn attempted to signal Peter. A misinterpretation from a couple of guests across the room led to a few returned waves, but the intended recipient seemed to remain oblivious. Just as Ryn prepared to try again, Peter’s dance shifted. The redhead took a step away from Ms. Persephone and did a jig; his feet executed a rapid shuffle while his lifted arms remained relatively still, save for the familiar cant.
Peter
Time: Night Location: Damien Estate Ballroom Interaction(s):Persephone Olivia @Potter
“So, Rogue, do you know how to dance as well?”
Peter barked a laugh. “What? You mean that?” He gave a dismissive jerk of his chin towards the other couples, shuffling in a monotonous funeral procession. “That ain’t dancing. That’s paint drying.” His grin turned conspiratorial, “This is a dance.” Without warning, Peter swept Olivia into an energetic dance of his own making. Every twist and turn were spontaneous, guided by nothing but their laughter and whims, a stark contrast to the stiff-backed formality suffocating the room.
As they spun, Peter’s sharp eyes caught sight of Fritz, probably itching to deliver a lecture about Olivia. He weighed the option of pretending not to notice the other man but knew better than to try.
Reluctantly, he took a step back from Olivia and broke into a jig, a ruse for their secret conversation.
Fritz lowered his hand and discreetly signed back. Friend. He angled his finger in Cowlick’s general direction. Wants black powder. Can you get some?
Black powder? Was Cowlick gonna raze C-Bert’s mansion to the ground? The thought sent a wicked grin across his face. That sounded like his kind of thing… But first.
Peter switched up his steps. Depends. He then gave Olivia a quick, meaningful glance. Can we keep her? It was a long shot, but he had to ask.
Fritz just folded his arms in response. Peter shrugged internally. Well, worth the shot. He’d try his luck again later.
On it, Boss. With a playful hop, Peter returned to Olivia, slowing their dance to a pace that allowed him to draw her close.
“You know, for a noblewoman, Lady Olivia, you’re not half as bad on the dance floor. You go out a lot?” He twirled her under his arm, “I picked up most of my moves from festivals and taverns.”
Fritz "Ryn" Hendrix
“Char...did Lady Violet say anything or show desire towards coming to this party or that other one going on..that..ritual party or something by that huge bear of a man or something?” Ryn’s ears perked up at the mention of Lady Damien’s name. “Basically, I'm asking if you spoke to her prior and if so, if she expressed interest in the events?”
Ryn surveyed the ballroom for Lady Damien amongst the vibrant gowns and crisp suits. When he failed to locate her, he sought her magical signature—the magicae he had seen at the tea party—through the enchanted lenses, but to no avail. “I’ve been here since the party started, but I haven’t seen her at all,” he said as he continued his search.
Then, from the corner of his enchanted sight, a black amorphous shape crept in. The energy coalesced into tormented visages that dissipated just as quickly. Brief flashes of dark magenta flickered within like lightning in a storm cloud. However, before he could discern the magicae or its bearer, a group of guests walked onto the dance floor, blocking his line of sight at the same moment the enchantment lost its effect. Well, that’s not ominous and unsettling at all.
Spotting Peter dancing with Persephone, Ryn asked Peter to get the gunpowder Kazumin asked for. Peter decided to enjoy his time dancing with Persephone a little bit longer before going to do Ryn’s bidding. Meanwhile, when the subject of Violet comes up, Ryn tries to look for her in the ballroom. Though he didn’t find her, he saw a disturbing magicae. @princess@samreaper@Potter
Time:Evening Location: Calbert's Estate Interaction: @JJ Doe Count Fritz @Samreaper Kazumin Charlotte had looked to Count Fritz and reached out to touch his hand tenderly, "...Why are you disheartened? Did someone hurt your feelings?"
She momentarily shifted her attention to Kazumin, her worried frown persisting as she absorbed the question. "... No." She answered. "I have not engaged with her in any form today nor discussed where she might be heading for the evening." Her gaze shifted to Count Fritz when he confirmed not having seen Violet either. The absence of Violet from her father's party puzzled Charlotte, but the unexpected interest from Kazumin added another layer of mystery. What exactly did he know?
