Obscene Symphony

Of Blood and Magic

_{Interacting with..? @Achronum}

“Of course, you’re right,” Aaron nodded to the masked woman. It was a little one-sided, he’d admit - what she said next demonstrated that she knew who he was, a little to his dismay - but he supposed it couldn’t be helped. The mask had helped him avoid the obvious recognition he’d grown to dread, but it wasn’t as if it cloaked him completely.

The woman clearly wouldn’t take no for an answer, so Aaron obliged, taking her offered hand and leading her onto the dance floor. In one smooth, practiced motion, he moved into a starting pose, and set them off gracefully when the music started.

“I’m acclimating splendidly,” he lied, maintaining his polite outward facade as they danced without so much as a twitch. Unlike the Princess or Varis, Aaron owed no duty of honesty to this woman, nor did he have any desire to speak freely to her. She could be anyone under that mask, and he had no interest in giving anyone any more than they already had against him. “It is a culture shock indeed, but the exposure should prove an important step in becoming a more well-rounded attendant, wouldn’t you say? I’m thankful for any opportunity to better myself.”

“But your interest flatters me, Miss,” he added after the dance took them through a more complicated step. Maybe he was getting too used to subtly picking bits and pieces out of Salem, but he couldn’t resist pressing a little. “May I ask why?”

ＦＩＮＡＬ ＦＡＮＴＡＳＹ Ｘ｜Ｖ： Ｔｈｅ Ｂｌｅｓｓｅｄ Ｔｗｅｌｖｅ

A pang of pity struck J’torha as he watched Lyveva - that was it - all but give up hope, the poor girl scared to death. He gently patted her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, but turned his eyes back to the auctioneer. The man didn’t only have the book he was currently trying to sell, but a number of other items looking like they were in queue to be put up for auction.

Looking back to Lyveva, J’torha jerked a thumb in the direction of the other items. “And were any of those things stolen from your house as well?”

"I'm more concerned about the books," Lyveva admitted, hugging the one in her arms. "We could always replace the candlesticks and knickknacks but...but the books are all originals, they were all borrowed from an archive that a few of us frequent."

Strange answer, but J’torha would take it as a ‘yes’. He looked back to the auctioneer, slitted eyes scanning for… something. He could probably afford to buy the tome he was selling, but not the others, and… well, the Seeker wasn’t too fond of the idea of emptying his pockets for a stranger. At least, not in these circumstances—

J’torha’s face split into a grin.

But he wiped it away soon enough, replacing it with what he believed was a suitably indignant snarl. He had to play his part well if he was to be believed, and if it worked, well, at the very least he could buy the young lady some time.

Lowering his ears and twitching his tail in a flawless display of irritation, J’torha wove his way through the crowd until he came upon a sturdy pole holding up a canopy. Climbing up it with relative ease, he stopped once he was two heads or so above the taller members of the crowd and cupped his free hand around his mouth, staring down the auctioneer.

“You RAT!”

_{Interacting with: @Hero but also easily heard by anyone near the well}

Of Blood and Magic

_{Interacting with...? @Achronum}

Salem disappeared into the crowd after they split apart, and Aaron floated back to the outskirts of the ballroom, content to stay out of the action for a few dances and simply watch. And watch he did; the ballroom was a feast for the eyes, a swirling mass of colours and textures glimmering under the chandeliers, spinning and stepping in tandem. As the moments passed, however, Aaron looked on with a more critical eye. He would latch on to one pair of dancers for a moment, watching their steps, their movements, their faces, before flitting to the next, looking carefully for any misstep. He wandered slowly around the edge of the ballroom as he watched, largely unbeknownst to him as he let himself sink back into familiar ways. What had started as a game between him and his mother when he was a child learning to dance, had become a lifelong habit; formerly a way to pass the time between waiting on nobles, and now a pleasant reminder of home.

Feathers and a raven mask meandered past her, breaking her concentration on a morsel that caught her eye. Her eyebrows shot up and she tracked the boy, sniffing as she trailed after him. Citrus. Hm, not quite what she was in the mood for but she was interested in more than just a baseline flavor now. She gave the distracted mage a few more moments before she caught up with him and kept his pace. "An interesting ensemble. Currying favor or displaying loyalty?"

A voice brought Aaron out of his nostalgic reverie, and he glanced down at the woman it belonged to, walking leisurely alongside him. Her dress reminded him of the Sinnenodel colours, black and silver with traces of green, though he didn’t know of any other Sinnenodels present on campus, so he brushed the thought aside as coincidence. Holding a wine glass, her hand betrayed age, though in a world of ageless beings that was hardly an indication of anything. What drew Aaron’s eye the most was her mask; covering her entire face, the porcelain bore a dazzling pattern in every colour, momentarily hypnotizing the young mage as he tried to make sense of it.

He didn’t tarry long, though, and met the woman with a polished smile. “Merely a reminder of home,” he replied smoothly, arranging his hands behind his back. He tilted his head toward the woman, a subtle gesture of deference. Even without seeing her eyes or her fangs, Aaron knew she was a vampire; they had an air about them he never could quite describe, and like a deer sensing a predator, he could always tell.

“But I suppose I could ask the same of you, Miss..?”

Of Blood and Magic

"And a Mirthful Revel to you too Aaron." Salem couldn't help but chuckle at Aaron's use of the word disguise. He hadn't thought about it but he supposed after the week he’d had, Aaron might be glad to go unrecognized as the mage of the mines, or that embarrassment of an apology letter, or quite honestly just the general daggers people glared at him when he entered a room. "I'd recognize that golden hue anywhere, though don't worry I'm sure no one else has had the pleasure of having to look at that sunlit hair everyday in affinity class."

There was a bit of a grin spreading on Salem as Aaron politely declined his offer, a Cheshire smile that marked the line where his timidness stopped and the tequila began. "Thank you, it's a special kind of Lily my family had worked on, changing the coloration ever so slightly to match the golden hue of fine silk or aged porcelain. My classes have helped greatly in how I handle my energy and control its flow." Salem downed his sweet wine, its rich sugary mouthfeel sliding down nicely as he reached and took Aaron's glass, finishing it off with his left hand as his right wrapped around the light mages side and was placed beneath his shoulder, pulling him close enough for their hips to touch. Salem gently placed the glass on the table near them and moved his hand over to Aaron's right, slowly lifting it up to start a dance. "Silly Starag, there wasn't really a choice in the matter."

Any reply Aaron had to Salem’s compliments and the Spellmans having a proprietary brand of lily died in his throat when Salem stole his drink; a strangled sound of protest was all that escaped. He sighed his irritation out with a roll of the eyes and leveled a look at Salem as he squared up properly to waltz, letting Salem take the lead.

“You owe me another drink,” he said pointedly, though he’d let the issue die as the music started. “Now what’s got you in such a good mood? I don’t usually see you so chipper.”

"I fully planned on giving you my other drink don't you worry." Once the music began and their dance had started, Salem took the time to savor this moment before leaning his head slightly forward and whispering in Aaron's ear. "I had a full day’s rest." He leaned back once more allowing the light mage to see the smile beneath the mask.

Aaron’s eyebrows shot up beneath his mask, the man flooded with a combination of excitement and apprehension. So they had to be connected then! He hadn't doubted it, identical dreams weren't exactly easy to come by, but now there could be no doubt. And truthfully, he was happy for Salem. He was happy for both of them! He wouldn't wish that kind of torment on his worst enemy, and he was happy they could put it behind them.

Of course, that brought him to the subject of covering it all up.

But he reflected Salem’s smile with one of his own, leaning in to reply in a whisper. “So did I.” He couldn't quite stop the excitement from leaking into his voice. “Does that mean we can be done with this then? No more obsessing?”

Salem couldn’t help but widen his smile at the mention of Aaron having also had a full sleep. It did, however, bring up more questions than answers. Why them? Were there other students possibly affected or was this truly just the work of them being invaded my Lady Sinnenodels mind mage? Also what did it mean that the dreams finally halted? There was definitely more to this than they could possibly imagine and Salem was raring to get to the bottom of it. He was about to press Aaron with some of his concerns when suddenly the mage suggested that they could be done with this. How? How could one simply just want to forget and move on on such a mystery? How was this not biting at him? If it wasn’t for the mask Aaron would’ve been able to see Salem’s eye threaten to twitch at the mere thought of just abandoning the issue that had plagued them for a week. He was about to speak in protest and tell him what he found when Victor’s voice rang out in the back of his head.

“Be careful what you say around the stagg boy.”

Salem tried to keep his smile going as he gave a slight laugh at what Aaron had said. “I hadn’t actually thought of that. It’s nice, knowing I don’t have to wonder if I will have enough sleep to continue my studies or not.” He sighed and shook his head, his hair tossing ever so slightly above his cape. “I didn’t find anything anyways. Was a bit afraid you’d somehow come back with a wealth of knowledge and I’d have nothing to show for my efforts. But I suppose it makes sense, chasing ghosts and dreams only leaves you with empty hands as you grasp at air.”

Though he was pleasantly surprised, Aaron couldn’t deny he felt more than a hint of suspicion about Salem’s reply. He could believe that Salem didn’t find anything - he hadn’t found much of value himself outside of his meeting with the Princess - but somehow, it didn’t seem quite right that dogged, principled, persistent-to-a-fault Salem would just give up his search for answers so easily. Aaron would let himself hope that Salem was sincere and would let the issue die, but he’d be prepared if he didn’t.

Smiling kindly, Aaron shook his head, still keeping his tone low. “I didn’t come across much either, only something… tangentially related. But we can discuss that later.” He shrugged and let his smile brighten. “In the meantime, I’m just glad that we can put it all behind us, and not burden ourselves or anyone else.” Aaron’s smile remained, but there was a hint of warning in his eyes and his voice at the last part.

Salem's eyebrow arched. Surprised not in that Aaron had found something, but more so that he believed it'd burden others. With the exception of the librarians who could help him locate texts or at the very least point him in the proper direction, Salem didn't quite believe it was burdensome for others. His smile remained as he began to wonder if there was some merit to what Victor had told him. If perhaps withholding information or playing a part would give him more clarity onto others, or at the very least Aaron. These were new waters that needed testing, but they appeared to be the right course for now.

"It's like I said before. If either of us were to find something it'd be you, even if it isn't much. Either way I thank you for this dance. I hope we can do it again someday." Salem leaned forward, giving Aaron a kiss on the cheek and another smile. It appeared his night may actually be going well after all.

Aaron rolled his eyes at the kiss, making a mental note to make sure later that Salem understood what he’d meant, but broke off the dance with poise as the music came to a close and offered Salem a customary bow. “Likewise,” he replied, quirking his head at the crowd. “Now go enjoy Revel.”

Of Blood and Magic

Aaron turned around at the sound of a familiar voice, and burst into a surprised laugh at the sight before him. With those billowing sleeves from who-knew-what century and the lavish waistcoat, Salem looked like… well, frankly he looked like Varis turned up to 11, though Aaron wouldn’t tell him that. After all, it was a suitably extravagant look for the Revel; it wasn’t like Aaron himself would be caught dead in his outfit any other night.

“Happy Revel, Salem! Nice outfit,” he chuckled in greeting, dipping the crest of his feathered mask to the man. “I see you saw through my foolproof disguise. Shame though, you should have caught me sooner. I just took a break.” He raised his drink in a white-gloved hand as proof before taking a sip, furrowing his brow and regarding the glass suspiciously as he realized it was alcoholic. Weird, he thought he’d grabbed a non-alcoholic drink, but he shrugged. It wasn’t like something so small would affect him.

Aaron was certainly in a better mood than usual, barely feeling that little pang of dread anytime he and Salem were in the same room, though it seemed like Salem was feeling the same way. He had an urge to ask if Salem had slept through the day as well, but he wouldn’t ruin their fun with that quite yet. He’d save it for texts after everything was over, he decided. Then he’d get the chance to think of how he could throw Salem off the scent of their joint inquiry into the nightmare. Tonight, though, was for fun.

Even if he had earned the chance to be here by throwing Salem under the bus.

Taking another, somewhat longer sip of his drink, Aaron eyed the flower in Salem’s mask. Fresh flowers were a common accessory, but he had a hunch it wasn’t a cut flower in the mask. “Nice flower,” he commented, gesturing to it with his free hand. “Your affinity is coming along nicely, isn’t it?”

_{@Trainerblue192}

Default RP in Rift. Still a thing?

@ThomasGrace Looks like you posted this in the wrong section. Try here!

Of Blood and Magic

As the Revel raged across campus, a ballroom on the far end of the property hosted a somewhat more tame event; though, of course, anyone familiar with the type would attest that they could be far from tame. The ballroom was stunning on its own, but its splendor paled in comparison to its occupants. Swirling and gliding around the ballroom floor, they were truly a feast for the eyes: they wore tuxedos and ball gowns in every shape, size and colour, and they all wore masks, each one more ornate than the last. As they moved gracefully and confidently through the steps of each new dance, it was easy to tell that many of the highborn students, vampires and mages alike, had gravitated there to enjoy a proper masquerade ball.

Aaron was no exception. As soon as he’d heard a real and proper ball was planned, he knew where he’d be spending his night. The black tuxedo his mother had sent him bore an embroidered paisley pattern all across the jacket, and his navy-black silk vest and bowtie shone against a royal blue dress shirt, but he still didn’t stand out nearly as much as some of the other men present; he had sworn he’d seen one in a full sequined red jacket, and another decked out in feathers. Everyone had gone all-out, it seemed, and Aaron was all too happy to be swept up in it; the politesse, the music, the dancing, even the venue itself brought him back to familiar nights, stirring up nostalgia of the royal balls that he hadn’t been away from for long, but that had already found himself missing. His mask completed the ambiance; with it, he could fade anonymously into the crowd like he always had, no longer drawing the strange, suspicious looks and whispers from people that he'd lately come to accept.

As the waltz came to an end, he dipped the gold-veined beak of his raven mask toward his fifth dance partner of the night, a tall, dark-haired girl in a green mermaid dress with a mask bearing shimmering scales like a fish. She curtsied gracefully before floating off to her next dancing partner, while Aaron opted to take a breather for the next dance and flagged down a passing server with a tray of something sparkling.

Outfit References

- Fragmented - (dead; stay tuned for the next one!)

@SmokeDragon@Achronum@Trainerblue192@Angel Vicky@Hero@Sir Hawke

Alright guys, unfortunately I will be closing this one down. I thank you all sincerely for your interest and for your awesome characters, and when I eventually reboot this with more thought and planning, you're all welcome to come join. Good luck with your other RPs, and thanks for considering mine ^_^

ＦＩＮＡＬ ＦＡＮＴＡＳＹ Ｘ｜Ｖ： Ｔｈｅ Ｂｌｅｓｓｅｄ Ｔｗｅｌｖｅ

Though J’torha was disappointed that the carriage was full of killjoys who wouldn’t join the song, he didn’t let it get him down, keeping the tune until the carriage jerked to a stop.

He jumped out gratefully, clearing away from the chocobos as soon as he could, standing some distance away and getting a good look at the place. It wasn’t his first jaunt to the Silver Bazaar by any stretch, and it hardly surprised him that a swarm of seedy deals would be going on. He listened closely to the free company leader’s information - what was her name again? Lydia? Leverne? - until, of course, she went running after someone selling a tome. So they weren’t just stealing a deed, but everything inside the house too? J’torha was certainly no expert in staying in one place, but everything he heard about buying and selling property said that the belongings in homes that were bought and sold would be stored somewhere, not swept up in the purchase. There must have been some wealth of stuff inside the home for the frauds to go through such trouble; either that, or they couldn’t resist another handful of gil.

J’torha wrinkled his nose. His record might have been far from clean, but he was no thief, and had no patience for them either. To his surprise, though, none other in the party seemed concerned about the leader’s sudden dash.

He shrugged, sighing, “I suppose this means I have to be the one to save the day.”

He took off at a jog in the direction the girl had fled, though he didn’t even have to go far to find her; just at the centre of the square, a crowd had gathered around an auctioneer on a platform, gesturing grandly at a tome and pontificating about its quality and value. The book was of less interest to him than the head of blonde hair bobbing up and down in the crowd, however, desperately trying to get the auctioneer’s attention.

Worming his way through the crowd, J’torha found the free company girl, looking like she was on the verge of tears. “What’s the panic, L-” seven hells, what was her name again? “...Lyvia? Does that book belong to you?”

@Hero

Of Blood and Magic

For Aaron, the first night of Revel began very quietly. Aaron’s request to use his free night on this had been granted, on very strict conditions that he be out of the house by the time his breakfast was usually delivered and that he not show his face anywhere near the Sinnenodel dorm until he returned for his curfew.

Given that Aaron had finally slept solid through the day for the first time in weeks, the nightmare having finally left him alone (which he credited to his meeting with Ryner), he was feeling pretty good, though he would admit some disappointment at having to get up at his regular time. But no matter; he had a plan. He tiptoed out of the dorm at exactly 8pm and made a beeline for his second home for the night: the infirmary.

After spending a good chunk of the night crashing on a spare infirmary bed (solid day of sleep or no, he had a lot of rest to catch up on) Aaron finally woke up for the second time around the middle of the night, to a welcomed email alert from the on-campus post office that a package had arrived for him. Right on time; he supposed he’d expect nothing less. The package awaiting him was a sturdy garment bag on a hanger, lacking the regular postage that the rest of the mail required; all it had was a label on the outside, bearing his name and the Noila crest.

He opened it in one of the Arena locker rooms, where he’d managed to sneak after having to avoid a few water balloons straying from the fight raging on the sand. His eyes widened at the contents; he never knew his mother to cut corners, but she never failed to impress him. Inside was a fine black tuxedo with a lavishly embroidered jacket, dark blue vest and tie and a saturated, royal blue dress shirt to match. There were a pair of nicely polished brogues in the package as well (because of course there were, Revel was the only time those things weren’t too ridiculous to be seen in public) but what took the cake was the mask.

His mother knew he would need a mask for a “masquerade” themed Revel, but Aaron didn’t expect anything so… much. It was a half-face black mask in the shape of a raven’s face, adorned with countless real feathers in an impressive crest (though still modest compared to some masks, only a bit larger than his forehead), but the focal point was the beak; extending down past where his nose would be, the beak was made of glossy black porcelain with a branching crack running diagonally up the middle, repaired as if the pieces had been glued back together with gold.

Aaron took a moment to admire the mask, turning it over in his hands delicately and looking on with a mixture of amusement and awe. It was no secret that his mother had chosen the pieces with a Noilan theme - the royal colours and raven motif weren’t exactly subtle - and Aaron had to admit, the familiarity was endearing. When he turned the mask over, there was a note fastened to the inside of it, and reading it, Aaron smirked.

Hopefully these will help you make the most of your free night.
XOXO,
Mom