Oscar

“The freedom to want freely is a novelty. The freedom to act on those desires, even moreso,” Oscar replied. “That’s the point of the evening. To unashamedly chase that which you want.” He had to admit to himself that she was right. People had worn themselves to dust in the name of desire. Wars fought, nations burned to ash. They wanted what they couldn’t have. Be it the love of a woman or the fertile lands of a neighbor. And so it drove them to bring their new enemy to ruin, only to find that to be their reward at the end of it all. But there was a key difference with this energy that bui

“Not a game,” Oscar corrected. Though it was a close approximation. The way that she spoke left him wondering if she'd ever really *wanted.* There was something ethereal about her. In short, she was an oddity the likes of which Oscar had never seen before. As they danced, his hand moved up - not down. Seeking skin, heat. Connection. Sensations heightened - sight and hearing and touch. That which might have escaped his notice felt all too keen. His fingertips played at the small of her back, feeling raised skin and tracing those contours. Music swelled, fingertips moved as their feet did - danc

“Ah I’ll never get used to being called a gentleman,” Oscar replied. He wasn’t. Though he certainly cleaned up well. All that being said, it was difficult to feel as he was a gentleman with his hand still wrapped around her waist, her body pulled flush against his - frozen in a half-state of falling. A smile crept up to his face as he maneuvered her smoothly to her feet. His fingers coiled around her hand as he rose to his full height. His previous dance partner had helped him shake off the rust. And this Oscar was a bit more bolt than the young and dumb boy from prom night. “I wouldn’t c

"You both look stunning," Oscar corrected, tilting his head towards the pair. Oscar grabbed what might have been his fourth whiskey of the evening from the tray and dismissed the server with a nod. Turning his back to the crowd, he leaned against the railing - taking a small sip of his drink as he did. If only he'd had the forethought of finishing that drunk quest before opening up his establishment. But then again, a drunk host simply would not do this evening. Oscar didn't set out to do all of this for the praise, but hearing it come from two of his closest friends felt nice. Warmed his hear

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He could, indeed, feel her heartbeat thundering out of her chest. It thrummed in time with his own. Oscar could scarcely recall a time when he’d found himself so thrilled. Or, at least, in a situation - with a companion - that was so thrilling. A shame that it had to come to an end. But as he allowed himself this one indulgence, he was quite happy it had been with her. He would think fondly back upon this memory and their entwined heartbeats. *"You won't forget me when the song is over, will you?"* “Never,” came Oscar’s reply. He raised his hand to his face, pressing his thumb and f

His companion’s flirtations only served to embolden him. Through the steps, as their revelry continued the space between them diminished. Gravity was a funny thing. Who was pulling who. Which of them wanted that small distance between them reduced to zero. His thoughts turned to prom night. Disapproving chaperones and one-arm’s distance. It made sense then. The opposite made sense now. Drawing one another in closer, bodies flush so that not even a sheet of paper could escape their friction. They were not quite there yet. But the night was still young. “Discoveries made by two people

“Don’t thank me,” Oscar said. The moment she settled into her chair, Oscar had a plate of stew. It smelled dangerous, laden with spices and thick with capsaicin. Nothing better for warming the body after a long nap in the rain than a big bowl of spicy stew. And, of course, Oscar had no chill when it came to such things, so the Scoville scale was more than likely blown out. He slid a glass of sweet wine and a small plate of bread in her direction. “I insist.” Oscar had a deep and profound love for all of his friends. He struggled to articulate, so he hoped that his actions would bridge tha

Oscar nodded along as Jomei admitted his desire to retire. It was understandable. Being on the Frontlines wore on you after a while. Once the fatigue set in, you were playing a dangerous game. You weren’t at your best. It simply couldn’t be helped, throwing yourself at horror after horror and putting your life on the line every time besides. Oscar wouldn’t say this - avoiding rubbing salt in the wound and all of that - but he’d not quite hit that brick wall of fatigue just yet. He’d simply switched his focus. Even so, there was nothing wrong with what Jomei felt. If only they had the numbers t

“and this is what you do for fun on your off time?” Oscar gave the NPC - Day - a warm smile. As he would for anyone else. The situation demanded it. His kinship with NIGHT did also. It was a bit of a struggle, if he was being honest. He never really engaged with NPCs in such a way. But he would endeavor to give it his best shot, for both of their sakes. “I like my fun to be infectious, Day. Nothing is sadder than enjoying the moment by oneself.” It was uncanny, the way DAY spoke. She very clearly didn’t have a script. Instead acting and reacting to incoming stimuli. If Oscar did

"Who's to say I wasn't holding the space for you?" “Then I am so very sorry for keeping you waiting.” A smile tugged at his lips as she slipped her hand into his. His fingers coiled gently around her own - engulfing the extremity as pulled her into his orbit. It was amusing to think that, around this time under ordinary circumstances, he would lean full-tilt into flirtations as debauched as he thought he could get away with. And perhaps it was her - the elegant evening dress and that adorable glimmer of curiosity in her eyes - that held him back. Or perhaps it was the setting. O

“Am I going to stay up here and brood all night, indeed,” Oscar said to himself as Sin made her exit. Certainly not. Was it not the prerogative of the host to enjoy his own festivities? Oscar descended the stairs onto the main floor. Perhaps one of the only faces that were not masked. Perhaps it ruined the mystique. But anyone who he would want to hide his identity from would pick him out of a crowd anyway. It was difficult to pass under the radar, unfathomably tall as he was. He stopped by the bar first. A shot of burning spirits to ignite his own. He deliberately ignored Sin,

“No time for tired,” Oscar said. He reached forward, wiping the mud from her face. It had been a while since he’d given her so tender a gesture. But she was a kept woman. And Oscar wasn’t one to overstep. But in the aftermath of such a devastating loss, Oscar simply wouldn’t be a good friend if he wasn’t there for her to lean on. “You need a shower. And some soup. It’s cold.” She looked demolished - and not in the good way. Oscar made it a point to know who took on the boss. Who won, who died. But escaping from Redemption was a rarity. There was a part of him that wondered whether or not

Rain. On every Floor. All at once. Scraps of black paper, trimmed in gold filigree, etched in blood-red. Words written in with a sweeping hand, large swirls, cut deep into the dark cardstock. Invitations cascading down from on high, blocking out the sun for just a moment like darkened storm clouds. The stunt worked. Players from all over filed into the building. The only price of admission? To accept a mask - black or white - at the door. Tables lined the walls, set with fine wine, champagne, and hors d'oeuvres. Enough to keep the night going, but not loud. Elegant, not