F01-OP Blackbook, Grand Opening

[Oscar 0]

"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.

Or the work he put into it.

And the money…

No, no. Now was not the time for those thoughts. That buzzing anxiety and desire for things to be just so. Oscar would swallow those. This was a time for enjoyment. Passion, desire - burning and raging - hidden beneath a veil of anonymity. Or, at least, plausible deniability. It was difficult, with such a small population, to keep the mystery alive. Even now, Oscar could put faces to names.

But was not the point to ignore the fact that people knew? Those sinful and sainted masks the only thing standing between them and full exposure. Truth, as it were, would not set you free.

Oscar waxed philosophical for only a moment. The time it took to guide his companion to the dance floor. Those internal discussions died the moment his hand rested upon her waist. From there, it was another lie. That he had the foggiest idea of what he was doing. He was certain she would be able to tell. He may move with a grace that a man of his size and stature should not possess, but that would be a poor substitute for actual experience.

And his only experience was prom. Ten years ago.

Still, he didn’t let that bother him. There were a fair few in the building that were in his predicament. At the very least, he avoided stepping on her toes. He would be satisfied with that. Even more satisfied as his companion gushed about her feelings about the evening. That was worth more than any whispered flirtation.

“I’ve heard that our host can be quite eccentric,” Oscar replied. “Built many such places. I hope this is the first of many.”

It was fun, speaking of himself as if he didn’t know his own inner machinations. He hoped she would forgive the deception when the time came for him to remove his mask and finally address the party-goers. But that would be a problem for future Oscar. For now, he was content to lose himself in the music and enjoy the evening with a lovely companion.

“Indulgence is my default state,” Oscar remarked. “As myself or otherwise." His fingers coiled in the fabric of her gown, gently closing the gap between them. More subtle than he trended; only slightly inappropriate. 

“I cannot quite figure out whose orbit is stronger, between the two of us. That glint in your eye is intoxicating and we do have the entire evening to figure that out, if you’re willing. If you'll indulge me, that is. ”

@Plum

[iris 0]

@Sinnamon

iris had been scanning the room, absentminded.

with the mix of bodies from the many, beyond the few she could easily identify, the passage of players was like background noise in staccato. with each blink, each sip of her drink, the floor plan would change, and she’d be trying to anchor her vision down to a set of new faces once again. hence, she did not see someone approaching her — even if she did, she chalked it up to the bar, rather than her direct position instead.

“Your date stand you up?”

her gaze, languid, fell on a figure tall. all she registered at first was white shirt hiding someone’s skin bearing a delicious tan. then, her eyes flicked upwards, to their face.

for a brief moment, iris looked like a deer in headlights.

(who was this tall, dark and handsome? talking to her? and pray tell, what was the question again? any hums coming from iris, surprised, might’ve been trailed off in a buffer. she might’ve also been busy taking a second glance at the cleavage exposed by the open collar, then back towards the stranger’s face — out of respect.)

she considered the interaction for a beat. actually regaling someone else you hardly know about the details on how you were properly left behind by your crowd of people felt like a social faux paus she wasn’t inclined to commit. but, then again, uncertain of where to start (marquis wasn’t technically a date, even if they showed up at blackbook together, and now so did shikari), iris simply swallowed her legacy of abandonment with a hesitant smile, expression on her face working through how best to explain her circumstance. she eventually settled: “i guess you could say that.”

"I'd like to fill in, if they're not going to show back up."

and what a kind offer it was! "oh — please, it's okay, i'm—" not about to impose my dreary mood upon someone else i’m barely familiar with was what she was about to say. 

then she got cut off.

"But I'm gonna be real, I need to be sorta liquored up before I start batting for my own team,"

“... sorry?"

iris’ smile had remained, despite her gaping. unfortunately, her train of thought had come to a halt. she was more worried about trying to figure out how to steer the framing of the stranger’s kindness as obligation in her mind. in her absence of agency, her temporary freeze on account of having been caught off-guard, iris could only watch as the stranger wrapped her tongue around the straw of her own glass, her warm skin barely grazing iris’ own palms as rugged fingers pulled the drink away from the woman stunned towards herself.

in her own confusion, iris had totally forgotten her drink was lacking a certain punch to it. really, now her secondary concern was that her treat was being ‘stolen’ by this other. not that she seemed to mind in the end; she had realized if the other woman was going to be insistent on staying, having a refreshment of her own was more than enough to illustrate how far she was willing to go. the question behind why the act of commitment to cheering up the visage of a sidelined nobody had flashed into iris’ mind just then, but it never fully registered. 

she stopped wondering fast. her usual conclusion had always been an appeal to another's good graces, because despite it being an untested theory, she had always imagined herself having been capable of doing the same.

“buy me a drink, bambi?”

iris had to relearn the practice of closing her own mouth. to that end, all she could possibly default to was her signature sweet demeanor, born out of professionalism, once rehearsed, as though interactions with her were an affair in public relations. she tilted her head, angled downwards, trying to read the expression of the other in spite of the masks in their way. it netted her no results.

"the same one?"

(in her earnestness, she could not deny the desire of wishing for company after having been abandoned. even if her sensibilities were known to nag, hyperaware of an impoliteness, what little else did she have to lose? a stranger was just a friend she hadn't made yet, and if she was meant to keep them closer than any enemies she was supposed to have... well, her friends felt awfully distant right now.)

composed, she turned to face the bartender. "could i get a sex on the beach, please?"

when it wound up in her hand, she graciously passed it off to the stranger, whom, iris realized, should really have been given due respect in lieu of her own entertainment, no matter how brief their exchange was. she picked up her own drink from the counter, having set it down earlier with her order, and thumbed where its stem met the glass. "i haven't done ‘on the house’ just yet,” iris elaborated, offering her cup out for a toast. “it's a little out of the way, but this is likely more familiar to you even if you hadn't, either. to whom do i owe the pleasure of company?" 

she made a home out of small talk, beaming as she relaxed against the counter once again. "bambi is fine. i'm not sure when 'my date' would return —” iris did air quotes with a hand as she said this, “ — but you're welcome to stay for the while." 

and, had there been an introduction in topics, she would’ve let the stranger follow-up with their say; she figured she was just a sounding board to front social niceties for, a primer before the other's actual prowl for a man. iris admitted that she couldn't even find it within herself to protest against that idea tonight, resigning herself to the role of a curious observer instead.

she thought nothing of their exchange of fluids, leftovers saliva on the straw. when the opportunity presented itself, iris expected her words to have been a supportive goad, scanning the room with sharpened eyes. "pardon my nosiness, but it's difficult for me to imagine someone like you going home from an event like this without someone in your arms. does that happen to be your m.o. for tonight?" 

[Plum 0]

"You'll make it up to me later, no doubt."

Plum's laughter was soft, but genuine, carried on the music like a ripple of light through blackened waters. Her companion was quite charismatic, and as out of practice as she was to be in the spotlight of someone's attention, she found herself shamelessly reveling in its warmth. Perhaps that betrayed how little time she spent in the playful presence of friends - so long she had spent locked away in the safety of this first floor, or hidden in the shadows behind hired help. Had she focused so solely on seeking out rare treasures, that she'd forgotten to accept the simple pleasures found in good company? 

With a sportive eye on her counterpart's sinful mask, she had to remind herself not to trust so readily that she was in good company. There was no way to be sure of how authentic anybody here was. Which, granted, was the appeal in a masquerade - to be as bold and uninhibited as one so desired. But to the cautious type, and such was the nature of the violet-clad woman, it required a commitment to remaining guarded, vigilant. 

For the briefest of moments, Plum's grin slipped towards grimace, her internal debate between what was safe and what was fun fanning its endless flame. She should have begun the night with something stronger than champagne. 

"Eccentric," she finally echoed, the word escaping her lips just a second before her thoughts caught up, and her mind returned to the present. "Not a bad business model, certainly draws in a crowd. Makes people linger - wondering who's behind it all." Her eyes sharpened with the sentiment, sweeping over the features of her companion in a willfully obvious attempt at unmasking him. 

Her hand flexed lightly in his, testing the give of his grasp. His confidence wasn't just a practiced facade - it was lived in. The world here was detailed beyond belief, but even then, it lacked the subtleties of the real world; were this not a game, Plum imagined she would feel the callouses indicative of a fighter. As it were, all she had to go off of was his unwavering hold. She could guess he didn't shy from Aincrad as a swordsman, but that was about as much as she was going to glean off such a small thing. As for what she might guess from her observing the rest of him - well, that wouldn't be polite to share. 

She hummed with gentle approval as he tried his best at leading them through the dance. And to his credit - he was doing remarkably fine. There were woefully few chances to dance, formally, as an adult outside of the occasional wedding. In her case, she'd attended enough charity galas in the between-times that she had a more solid foundation of it. So it was with precision, and delicate tact, that she guided her partner into the occasional spin. She hoped, by the end of it, she might lure him into an intimate dip.

"A dangerous default," she returned, a comfortable heat rising in her cheeks as the space between them grew... less spacious. "Though I can't deny the appeal." 

"And as for orbits..." She let him continue to close the distance, albeit only slightly, her chin tilted up in mock consideration as she took measure of his words. Her thumb brushed faintly across his knuckles, a gesture somewhere between mischief and innocence. She wanted to say she didn't mind being pulled in if he was at the center of it - his was a gravity that drew others in long before they themselves noticed. But even the temporary safety of anonymity didn't grant her that sort of boldness. Only banter and intrigue, and carefully timed glances.

Plum's bright eyes bore up at him, ablaze with unspoken earnest in spite of the coy smile pressed on her lips. "I suppose I can't fault you for wanting to test gravity. I have my own theories - you'll need to share with me what you discover by the night's end." 
@Oscar

Edited 2 hours ago by Plum

[Demian 0]

@Edict

“Please sit! I came here to feel a little less lonely, but it turns out the masks are having the opposite effect.”

"strange," demian replied, as he fiddled with his mask carelessly. "to me, it feels like a piece of armor, even having driven a curated persona on the daily." he leaned in, gesturing for a handshake towards the other. "i'm maxwell. it's a pleasure to meet you." 

he poured over his memories for anything regarding the dye quest on the twenty-first, but came up with nothing, even by his eclectic memory. "so it is," he presumed, lending the other the benefit of the doubt. as the stranger elaborated, underneath his mask, demian's expression had morphed into one of disbelief, if only for a second. perhaps he was assuming it was a curious thing to admit in daylight: pity for an npc. almost as though to correct him (or was it something more?) demian started, head angled downwards. "i wouldn't say all requests in here are forewarned about their objectives and rewards from the get go myself, but i suppose it's a standalone intent that defines altruism within a vacuum, isn't it?"

to his offer, the man had seemed composed in reception, and demian had no reason not to take his thoughts at face value. what hesitation he did have was in picking apart the choice in words the player was using — how could a machine dictate one's own sexuality? 

demian simply smiled back, legs crossed, leaning back into his seat. 

"... are you telling me i have the rest of the night to test it's theory?" he waved a hand thereafter, almost too quick in his dismissal. "i jest. it would be rude to impose anything more otherwise. but since you're seated here on your own, i suppose my company's not entirely unwelcome then? or, at least," and demian's gaze went to the dance floor, "until the night grows a little older."

he brought his attention back to his conversation partner. here was a man just as curious as any other last player he'd seen. so he leaned forward, fingers placed together in a steeple, feigning pleasantries above a deep urge to study him further.

"i am curious as to why you've left the decision to cardinal, however. about your sexuality, sure, but among other things as well." demian pointed to his own hair, gaze raised to the player's. "accepting the quest is one thing, but making use of its rewards is another, especially with regards to your own presentation. i wouldn't know if you had any other occasions where that may be the case, however. but, in addition, i had wondered if one's guilty conscience motivated their choice between the masks come wandering in." he recalled how smoothly shikari had taken the white instead, and reflected on his own decision between the pair. 

demian raised his hands, palms facing outwards. "not to pry on intention, of course." he said. "call it a self-study, if you'd rather." 

(because between the player's appeal for assistance and demian's own choice to stay hidden from his perpetrators, he realized they took very different stances in lieu of how they might fit in with others. here was a man that seemed honest, yet he seemed closed and distant from the others, even with the mask on. and, even as he knew otherwise, demian had felt like he was king for a night the moment his visage was further obscured.)

"even if i can't be your bedwarmer come sunlight, i think having settled that altruism doesn't make a saint or a sinner helps, doesn't it?" demian smirked back, folding his arms. "it doesn't hurt for me to offer you a listening ear, if you'd like. at least, to a fellow sinner," he gestured to the air between them briefly, "this happens to be a godless space. and, for full disclosure, i won't be expecting anything out of this, either. honest. ... so what do you say?"