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 yesterday at 10:50 AM 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?"

[Sinnamon 0]

“could I get a sex on the beach please?”

“Wherever you want it, Bambi.”

Bold was the theme of the evening. And Sin was certainly that. Besides, Iris’s reaction was too cute to pass up. Sin wanted to needle her more. See just how far she could take it. And the woman was picking up what she was putting down - even if she seemed a bit too shy and shaken to fully engage. That was fine. Sin was very good at melting down walls. Though, she usually did so a bit more swiftly than she was now. But it was a fun joust. And she found herself wondering if this was what Oscar felt like when he was circling in the waters.

"i haven't done ‘on the house’ just yet,”

“Me either,” Sin said as she took the proffered drink. Her eyes never left the blonde as she brought the beverage up to her lips and took a small sip. The implication would not be lost on Iris, surely. That Sin lack the ability to get drunk. That everything before and after this was a conscious decision. That the hunger was not exacerbated by spirits. Sin had to wonder how she would react upon that realization. That in-your-face want.

“Isn’t the point of a masquerade to not know names?”

Sin placed her glass down on the bar. Despite her chiding, she raised her hand to her face and plucked the mask from her visage. Name and cursor winked into existence above her head.

“You can call me Sin, if you like. Sinnamon is my stage name.”

What stage in particular? Iris seemed like a smart girl - she could suss it out.

“I’ll have to tell your date that your attention is stolen for the evening,” she said with a sly smile. “They can have you back when I’m satisfied.”

Yep, that totally sounded like an Oscar move. Sin had to be honest with herself. It felt more empowering than any performance she’d ever made. Intoxicating, even. She would lean in more. Be more direct - if that was even possible.

“In my arms. On top of me. Under me. Perhaps not home though. There’s plenty of shadows to lurk in. What do you think Bambi? Wanna hide with me?”

 

[Oscar 0]

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 are always better than one,” Oscar replied. “And my attention often extends past the end of the night.”

Sometimes the sinful needs to be shown the light of day.

Music swelled. Rising action. Each note brought them more in-time with one another. Bold as he was, he could not help but perform. Guiding her into spins and twirls, all culminating in a sweeping hip. His hand at the small of her back. More decadent than any lascivious behavior in this setting. A promise? A tease? Or, perhaps, a statement of intent. How far he would go, if she allowed. Or was it the reverse?

He brought her back to her feet, spinning her back towards him. He didn’t stop her. Made no effort to halt the collision. They coiled into one another, her back to his chest, arms tangle around her frame. She was soft. Blazing hot. From the exertion or from the unspoken fantasy he’d woven around them. The nebulous but contradictory focused desire.

He did not hide it. Oscar never did, but the understatement stoked a flame he did not know that he possessed. There was finesse in his act always, infinitely more so now. He struggled with his words - if only for a moment - as they embraced and sway softly to the music. A tender display, almost innocent. Yet innocence was not what he craved from her.

“Gravity is lovely, in the moment. But my thoughts are of the collision,” Oscar said. He reached up, fingertips hooking under her chin. He guided her eyeline up, his gaze locking with hers. “I would like to see stars with you, I think.”

 

[Plum 0]

He was a quick learner. He never lapsed in confidence, but it was clear he had found his footing midway through their dance, and soon she was able to fall back into step, their motions having found harmony in one another. The music carried them easily now, each note coaxing them tantalizingly closer. His lead was sure now, almost instinctive; where he turned, she followed.

Plum's immense enjoyment of the dance was palpable - her playfully shy smile had reached its apex, spread from ear to ear, her unrestrained laughter saccharine against the worked up sweat. Even her smattering of freckles seemed to sparkle. In each twirl, her gown flared in sweeping arcs of magenta and violet, painting ribbons of color in the dim light. Her glee culminated in the dip, his hand steady against her back, her own fingers finding the curve of his shoulder for balance.

When he drew her in again, the shift was seamless.

For a heartbeat, she forgot the music. She forgot the murmuring crowd and the flickering lights. The rest of the Blackbook blurred into the periphery, until all that remained was the warmth of his arms around her, and the ache of her racing heart pounding against her ribs. She was sure he could feel it. She didn't care to pull away. 

He needn't have directed her eyes towards him - his gaze was magnetic, she was pulled in by it in an instant. At the brush of his fingers at her chin, unexpectedly tender, she found herself leaning into his touch, until her cheek was cupped by his hand. His thumb rested near the contour of her mask. There was no risk of him removing it for her - she couldn't help but wonder if he wanted to, or if he was savoring the mystery of it the same as she. 

“I would like to see stars with you, I think.”

"'The lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels,'" she half-quoted back absently. Her stare seemed to harden, but her tone remained teasing: "You won't forget me when the song is over, will you?"

[Jomei 0]

Jomei the emerald duelist

Spoiler notes Level: 35 | Paragon: 92 | Tier: 4(13)  Jomei | HP: 1060/1060 | EN: 144/144 | DMG: 21 | MIT:44 | ACC:4 | AA  | F-SPIRIT | EVA:3 | BH:58 | HB: 23 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 8 | LD:5 Equipment: Vicious Mockery : ACC II | Taunt | Blight  Fencer's Regalia - Trepidation: Vamp D II | HB | MIT  Token of Serenity: HB| EVA III   equipped Vicious Mockery Fencer's Regalia - Trepidation Token of Serenity battle-ready inventory Listed Below skills Spoiler Skills Rapier R5 | TECH Spec. Combat Mastery DMG R3 Cloth Armor R5 Charge B Healing R5 Energis Howl Fighting Spirit Quick Change Extended Weight Limit Searching R4 Extra: Concentration Survival   Parry Forgotten King's Authority Assault Mode  Lady Luck Meditation Mods Athletics Emergency Recovery Vengeful Riposte Justified Riposte Night Vision Addons Stamina  Focus Precision Nimble Focused Howl buffs Spoiler Buffs Dimensional Backpack +1 BRI slot Well Rested: -1 energy cost for the first three expenditures of each combat     Squeaky Clean: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 25% (rounded down)     Tasty: Turn 2 identical food items (same quality, tier, & enhancements) into a Lesser Feast. Relaxed: Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts. Filling: Increase the effectiveness of a single food item consumed in a thread by +1 T1 slot. This can exceed normal Cook enhancement caps.  Multipurpose: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll Item Stash: +1 BRI slot Advanced Training: +10% EXP to a thread. Limit one use per month. Must be used on a player's first post in a thread. Cooldown begins counting down when used in a post.

Two masks were presented before him, one black, one white. The Sinful and The Sainted. 

Many in Aincrad saw viewed Jomei as 'saintly' due to his selflessness, compassion, and good deeds. Always putting himself in the line of danger not for his own self gain, but, to protect those he held dear. To fight for those who could not raise a sword. Would never turn down a friend's request for help and will always uplift those around him.

But this was Oscar's den. Jomei was well aware of the type of man his friend was, and knew what mood Oscar wanted his club to embody. Dark corners to mask private escapades, stocked bars with thirsty patrons, and music that pulls you under the surface and drowns out the rest of the room. Hell, Jomei was the one who decided on the name for this place after all. 

So when in Rome..

Jomei tidied himself up in a mirror before entering the Blackbook proper. Sporting a white shirt, a black vest and slacks, and a long, green coat draped over his shoulders. He couldn't just outright abandon his signature color. Even if he wanted to lean into the romance of the masquerade. When Oscar first told him about his plans to host the ball, he was to extend the invitation to Lessa. But masquerades were all about mystery.. so why not have a little fun with it?

To: Lessa

I'll see you there.  Find me. - Jomei

Stepping into the club turned ballroom proper, he would scan the interior. When he was last within these walls, it was only Oscar and himself. Now, seeing it packed with players mingling, drinking, and dancing. Jomei could not help but hide a smile, proud that his friends hard work was not for naught. Taking a small band on his wrist, Jomei would run his fingers through the hair that fell in front of his masked face, tying it off in a messy half bun. Not a look he would normally wear outside of the privacy of his home, but he felt it would help fortify the disguise. (But how many other tall gingers were their in Aincrad, really?). 

First a drink, he thought to himself as his eyes settled on the bar busy with patrons. Stepping around the dance floor, he would scan the paired up players, catching @Oscar's gaze for just a moment to offer a quick nod in greeting. Looked like an important meeting, and who was he to get in the way of that. 

Leaning against the corner of the bar, he would wait until he had the bartender's attention. "A tequila old fashioned please." he would offer a smile in thanks.

Edited 2 hours ago by Jomei

[iris 0]

from her passing comments, iris was starting to realize her companion, having introduced herself as sin, was a woman of few words, yet still captivated an audience with her intensity. their glasses had met with an audible clink, and as her own lips folded around her straw dainty, iris couldn’t shrug off the way the other’s eyes had remained on her. she barely held contact for long, brushing the feeling off with a smile.

"Sinnamon is my stage name.”

and neither had she expected herself to be on equal footing on their mannerisms, then. there was a twinkle in iris’ eyes, borne from curiosity and surprise both.

“is that so?” a pause. “well, i think it’s a wonderful name. you’ll have to tell me more about your performances some time, sin. i’m sure you’re a great actress.”

(because while she thought herself sure sin wasn't planning on it, iris was already feeling hot under the collar, adjusting the strap of her dress slightly with a slip of a finger between silk and skin as she looked away.)

"myself — i can't say much due to the nature of my job, but i happen to be familiar with playing a role myself as well.” and there was something in her that wanted to breach that contract, due to their anonymity. “i suppose i’m more proficient at firearms?” her gaze had instinctively fell to sin’s arms, relaxed, before a smile surged in her expression. “not that it helps beyond building relations in aincrad, of course. i'm sure you've been able to put your skills to better use."

iris had hesitated on the truth, knowing it would be a difficult reproach if her identity ever fell into the wrong hands. so she hoped that, to sin, a finger to her lips and a wink as a nod to hiding her secrets would suffice.

“I’ll have to tell your date that your attention is stolen for the evening. They can have you back when I’m satisfied.”

(and here was the kicker: marquis had never needed to linger in her orbit for so long had iris been so brave as to test the waters with someone else. but she had presumed herself not up to the task for that night — until sin came along. made her time worthwhile with banter alone; kept things lively, interesting.)

"well, it wouldn't exactly be stealing if i went along willingly with you, would it?" 

and she hadn't the imagination to guess how well sin was a performer in the sheets, but neither had her mind flitted towards it as her own destination by the end of the night. iris hummed, thinking of it as a little excursion — runaways, just the two of them, even for a minor bout. and maybe she was a little salty everyone else had gone missing.

so why not them?

"i take it that means you're familiar with the place?" sin’s story started to make a little more sense, then: a well-funded establishment, celebrates its opening grand, wanting to leave players with a decent first impression to keep them coming back. it had a reputation to uphold, and then maintain. now, whether or not sin was a member of their staff or simply a v.i.p. in their midst, or otherwise, iris found herself having little reason to doubt her host. 

she offered sin a hand, as if asking once more for consent to her own presence. her other had slid the glass upon the counter behind her, now drained of her satisfying mocktail. "well, let's go on an adventure then. i'm sure no one would miss me for a night." she chuffed, smiling bright. "would you show me a good time, sin?"

[Telrenya 0]

Telrenya picked the color of her mask in a panicked rush. She didn’t realize there would be a choice awaiting her at the door. Yet once the ornate white mask was placed in her hands, she was just as quick to slip it over her features, like a mouse scurrying away from the light. A quick murmur past her lips and she shuffled in through the entrance, seeking out an unoccupied sliver of space where she might be able to collect herself.

 

She looked out over the people in attendance. The sea of little spinning cursors was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she watched in awe as dozens of masked identities glided across the dance floor, lounged in expensive-looking furniture, and plucked small treats off of serving trays. Telrenya didn’t know if the layer of anonymity truly let the anxiety stirring in her stomach rest like she had hoped it would.

 

’This is a good thing.’ She told herself again. It was good to get out and do something different. It was good to interact with people. And should she make an absolute fool of herself, she could live in the peace that nothing had to follow her home, she told herself. She was a mystery woman now. The thought forced her lips to finally crack and give way to a small smile.

 

A glass of red wine found its way into her hand like an accessory as Telrenya’s mind and body drifted into the grandeur like a rowboat out to sea. A sleek dress of a crimson gradient and swirling with matte gold lines cascaded to the floor where its hem danced around the simple black heels that cautiously stirred into motion. The top of her bodice was lined with fluffy black lace that draped around her arms and matched the cuffs around her wrists and neck. An ensemble unlike anything she’d normally wear. She took a sip and pressed on, drifting languidly among the unknown crowd.

 

 

[no quest active]

Telrenya | HP: 760/760 | EN: 114/114 | DMG: 21 | MIT:44 | ACC:4 | PHASE | EVA:3 | REC: 8 | LD:1 CHARACTER SHEET   Hide contents Telrenya's Character Sheet FULL STAT BLOCK   Hide contents equipped n/a   battle-ready inventory n/a skills »Rapier R5 (+7 DMG) »Cloth Armor R5 (+20 MIT) »Energist (+20EN) »Extended Weight Limit (+2 Battle Ready Inventory) »Combat Mastery: Damage R3 (+3 DMG) »Protector Familiar extra skills [4/5] »First Aid R5 »Survival (10% increased healing from all sources, immune to damaging environmental effects) »Meditation (+16EN | 3 post CD) addons »[Rapier] Precision (+1 ACC) »[Rapier] Stamina (-2EN) »[First Aid] Hyperactive (+3EN for 3 turns on party member or self | Unique | 3 post CD | 5EN) »[First Aid] Field Medic (Heal self and all party members 25% max HP | 3 post CD | 15EN) »[Cloth Armor] Nimble (+1 EVA, +1 LD) mods [4/5] »Athletics (+1 DMG) »Purify (Remove all status conditions on self or party member | 1 post CD | 3EN) »Energize (Restore 8EN to party member | 10EN) »Barrier (Reduce final dmg from all sources by 15% on all party members for one turn | 2 post CD | 15EN) buffs »

 

 

Edited 8 hours ago by Telrenya

[Mari 1]

Mari's brow furrowed slightly as Orpheus offered her a smile, stating he wanted to chat a little longer. It wasn't that his company wasn't welcome...Mari just didn't do well with new people, hell she was still a little akward around her guild members. There were very few people that the woman felt she could relax and speak freely around, and despite the air of familiarity the man had about him,. he was not one of them. Not at least, without another drink. A shrug of her shoulders as Mari downed the last of her whiskey, clearing her throat to dislodge the burn of pure alcohol. "I'm not good with this is all." Mari would say with a gesture up to her crystal, as though that somehow explained away her awkwardness. "More so, events like this. But the host is a dear friend of mine. And told me I needed it."

“Can I ask why you’re at a masquerade and choosing to avoid the mask? No judgment, even for silence; everyone is entitled to their secrets. Particularly at such an event as this.”

Mari's hand reached out to clasp the feathered black mask, finding comfort in knowing she could put it on and hide her PKer status if she needed.  Although, it wouldn't exactly be able to hide her Mari was a very familiar and very obvious visage draped entirely in a shimmery dress - it hem sparkled, glowing like the soft embers in a dying hearth. So obviously unabashedly Mari. And she was fine with that. "I'm pretty recognizable, even without the mask. I ...." Her eyes shifted to the dance floor, blinking as she saw who she thought was @Oscar dancing rather intimately with another woman. She watched the two for a moment, he really had a way with women, didn't he?  There was a feeling, a pang of what she guessed was a sort of sentimental yearning - he was perhaps one of the few Mari would attempt to dance with. But she'd not get in the way, she was happy he was enjoying his own event for once, and on the arms of a rather attractive woman. Her friend deserved to enjoy his own event. 

Realizing she may have been staring at the dance floor too long Mari pulled her eyes back to Orpheus. "I didn't like the idea of dancing with others." Cerulean eyes shifted down to her mask, fingers tracing it. "

The man had shifted his attention back to Artoria, not that Mari would blame him, she was stunning, and a far cry more pleasant to talk to than Mari. The moment Orpheaus said something about his body being enough for her, Mari loudly pushed her stool out from the bar. "okay you know what..." Mari said, a little exasperated. It was bad enough she couldn't be with her partner here, but these two flirting with each other and her being in the middle? Nah. She grabbed her mask and messily tied it so it hung loosely on her face, it immediately slid down her nose and looked as though it'd fall off with the slightest shake. 

Mari moved her stool out the way then stood behind Artoria, without much thought - Mari pushed the stool the other woman sat on till it bumped into Orpheus' leg. "Ya'll enjoy the night. Truly. I just don't want to sit between this." She said, gesturing between the two. Truth be told, Mari wanted to give them the space, so she pointed further down the bar. "I'll still be here after your dance."  Probably.

Thankfully, a familiar  mess of moss coloured hair interrupted them, Mari honestly wouldn't have picked it as Hirru, if not for him directly addressing her s a familiar face. "Actually, just the right time. These two were about to dance." A slight tug on his clothing would pull him a few seats away from the two more flirtatious members of their group.

Shifting two seats over She sat herself back down at the bar, and signaled the bartender for her third drink of the evening. "Whiskey sour, please." And just like that, Mari straightened her back, hair like cascading fire down her bare shoulders. Just another faceless person in the crowd.

There was something...inherently soothing about that. Maybe Oscar was right.

Her gaze shifted back to the man. "You...are Hirru, right?" She'd pick up her glass and take a long drink from it. "I needed that distraction, they were making eyes at each other."

 

 

@Acanthus @Hirru @Artoria

Edited 1 hour ago by Mari

[Lessa 1]

[Stats going in soon, I promise.]

Lessa stood outside the Wild Rose Forge, her hands on her hips, her face contorted in an expression that could only be described as confused annoyance. Annoyed confusion? Regardless, she was annoyed, and that confused her. Why did the mere sight of her shop spawn such negative emotions? Why had years passed without her even stepping across the threshold? The sunlight spilling through the windows illuminated the dust particles beyond the glass, filling the serene space with glitter. And it still did nothing to entice her inside.

“I hate you,” she told the inanimate object. Then her blonde eyebrows furrowed. “Why do I hate you?”

Something drifted into existence a foot from her face, and without conscious thought, Lessa plucked the paper from the air. “We’re not done here,” she informed the shop before shifting her attention to the paper. Her blue eyes danced across the words once, twice, and then a third time before she slipped the invitation into the wide pocket of her hoodie.

Her laughter filled the entire street.

—

The door opened, and Lessa passed from one darkness into another. A blast of cool air brushed her hair back from her face, and sent the soft fabric of her skirts whispering across her thighs. She closed her eyes and hummed appreciatively as the soft music and scent of mingled perfumes reached her. When she opened them again, she found soft red lighting, comfortable seating, and dozens of patrons already enjoying themselves. While The Blackbook was the perfect name for the establishment, it just as easily could have been called Oscar’s - it had his fingerprints all over it.

Her gaze tracked across the masked faces as she attempted to locate her friend, but a cleared throat from her right interrupted her search.

“Mask, miss?” 

She turned to find a man in a black suit. He offered her two masks, one white and one black. Sainted and sinful. Her head tilted as she studied the options for a moment, every bit Neo considering the red or the blue pill. “Which one should I go with?” she finally asked the stranger.

Without hesitation, he replied, “I suppose that’s up to you.”

Her grin unfurled across her face like delicate flower petals, but the devilish gleam in her eye was anything but fragile. “You’re exactly right,” she told him, accepting the black mask and deftly tying it beneath her heavy blonde waves. “It is up to me.” If ever there was a place to indulge in her sinful side, it was a nightclub called The Blackbook. Besides, the black matched her dress.

The long fabric in the back of her dress, a nod to the cape she favored, flared as she strode across the dance floor. The gold belts slung over her hips jingled faintly with each step, accenting the sharp clip of her stilettos on the polished floor. She had nearly reached the crowded bar when a familiar ping heralded the arrival of a new message.

“Come find me,” Lessa read aloud, the words surprisingly sensual as they passed her lips. Even as her heart skipped, her competitive spirit surged as she began to hunt for her ginger.

[Astra 0]

Which mask will you don today? Is it his again? Perhaps it’s time to tell us what you’re hiding behind that smile, young Pierrot. Show us who you really are. That is…If there is a “you.” Where do they end, and where do you begin? 

 

Where do I begin? 

 

It started with a curious invitation. Elegant, adorned with gold - yet filled with intrigue. A masquerade ball, hosted by one of the most charismatic yet enigmatic people in Aincrad. At first thought, an event like this seemed as if it was out of Astra’s league. Something for debutants, people with decorum. That wasn’t him in the slightest. He was polite, amiable - but in no way familiar with upper society. For a moment he considered ignoring the invitation, avoiding the crowds. Yet here he was, walking through the rain, making his way to The Blackbook. 

The tailor that Astra commissioned for his formal wear swore that this outfit would turn heads. Astra was hesitant, as he wasn’t really looking to peacock or garner attention - but the tailor continued to swear that it was perfect. “Trust me, you’ll be one of the prettiest boys at the ball” he joked. Astra smiled and laughed along, but some insecurities lingered. “Alright, just adding the finishing touches,” the tailor said while adjusting Astra’s tie. “Aaaand…Voila! What do you think?” 

Astra took a step towards the mirror, and thankfully when he looked upon it he was relieved to see his own face looking back. The outfit was formal, but with a twist. He wore a sleeveless collared shirt, beneath a stark black vest. Around his neck was a blood red neck tie. The lower half of his attire were a pair of striking white pants, with a pair of fitted black stockings with red trim over them. Finished off by a pair of boots, and a long glove over his right arm. 

“It’s really nice, thank you.” His biggest concern was that his “deformity” was front and center in this outfit, his notable red left arm. Usually he wore long sleeves and a glove to cover it, as most people he met growing up considered him a freak for it. The tailor could see Astra’s hesitance behind his stare, and offered a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Take a risk, let them see you.” Astra donned his soft smile, and was on his way. 

As The Blackbook came into view, the sheer size and splendor filled Astra with both awe and a hint of anxiety. He tried to scan the faces of the others who were in line at the door, but so far no familiar faces were found. Perhaps that was the point, it was a masquerade ball of course. When he made it to the door, the doorman presented him with two masks; one black, and one white. Sinful or saintly. 

A white mask. You just want to be pure. A porcelain white mask that was similar to the masquerade mask affixed to the hooded white cowl that he wore in battle. Familiarity would help with identity, or perhaps masking it. Astra placed the white masquerade mask over his eyes, and entered. Even with a mask, he probably stuck out like a sore thumb. His white hair bright in the dim room, one red arm, eyes like silver stars peering through the mask. If anyone he knew was here, he’d probably be recognized. 

Immediately he was swallowed by the red glow of the ballroom and lounge before him. Most here were dressed in elegant and refined clothing, donning the masks of the night. Some casually chatted and sipped on drinks, while others moved rhythmically on the ballroom floor - losing themselves in the intrigue of their masked partner, and the music filling the room. 

Astra made his way to the bar, where some had already gathered and conversed, some unmasked, and others not. One of the players he did recognize was the strikingly pretty but intimidating red-haired woman he’d seen at Oscar’s crab boil. She had an orange cursor, it was hard to miss while unmasked, and it was hard to forget. Astra pushed down his unease, however. It was clear that her and Oscar were close. If his guildmate trusted her, then Astra would have to as well. 

“What can I get you to drink?” The bartender asked, snapping Astra’s attention back to the person in front of him. 

“Um…I’ll take a gin and tonic, please.” 

That was his favorite drink. What’s mine? 

When the drink arrived, Astra thanked the bartender, and made his way to the edge of the ballroom floor. Sipping on his drink, he watched through the slits in his mask as masked dancers moved to and fro. It was easy to get lost in the movements of those who were dancing, as well as the swell of the music. Astra himself wasn’t much of a dancer, but he figured that maybe it wouldn’t be too dissimilar from sword-work. Rhythmic footwork, following the sounds around them. Maybe he wouldn’t be too bad at dancing after all. The caveat, however, was that he wasn’t bold enough to ask someone to dance. Most dancers already had a partner, so instead he observed. 

I think I want to dance with somebody. Feel the heat with somebody. If they'll have me. 

***

Astra equips: Saintly Mask 
<<Masked>> 

Spoiler

 

Name: Astra
True Tier: 3
Level: 27
Paragon Level: 1
HP: 570/570
EN: 72/72

Stats:
Damage: 18
Mitigation: 54
Accuracy: 7
Evasion: 2
Recovery: 2
Bleed: 24
Battle Healing: 17

Equipped Gear:
Weapon/Armor/Trinket:
  - Seeker's Blade | T2 Perfect Straight Sword | DMG 2 | BLD 1 
Armor/Trinket:
  - Seeker's Attire | T2 Perfect Light Armor | MIT 2 | REC 1
Shield/Armor/Trinket:
  - Initiates Draw | T1 Perfect Trinket | ACC 3

Combat Mastery:
  - Combat Mastery: Damage - Rank 3

Combat Shift:
  - TECH

Familiar Skill:
  - N/A

Custom Skill:
  - N/A

Skills:
  - Straight Sword R5
  - Light Armor R5

Extra Skills:
- Concentration 
Action: Free Action
Cooldown: 5 Turns
Effect: As a free action, gain Absolute Accuracy on your next attack. In the case Absolute Accuracy is already present, increase your Accuracy by 1 instead. Effect lasts until the start of next turn.

Inactive Extra Skills:

Sword Arts:

• [x12] ST-I (12 EN) | A single-target sword art.
• [x15] ST-II (15 EN) | A powerful single-target sword art. Only available for use when ST-I was used and successfully struck an enemy the previous turn or if ST-II had been used and had missed the previous turn.
• [x20] ST-B (20 EN) | A devastating single-target sword art. Can only be used if the sword art used the previous turn is not ST-B and had rolled a natural CD9+. When performing an AoE attack, use only the first roll.
• [x11] AOE-I (11 + [2 * targets] EN) | AOE | A sword art that strikes multiple targets at once.
• [x14] AOE-II (14 + [2 * targets] EN) | AOE | A powerful sword art that strikes multiple targets at once. Only available for use when AOE-I was used and successfully struck an enemy the previous turn or if AOE-II had been used and had missed all intended targets the previous turn.
• [x12] TECH-A (13 EN) | STUN | A single-target sword art that stuns an enemy.
• [x12] TECH-B (12 EN) | DELAY | A single-target sword art that, on a successful strike, applies [Delay] on the enemy. [Delay] is a debuff that reduces the enemy’s ACC by 1 for one turn.
• [x12] TECH-D (12 EN) | SHATTER | A single-target sword art that applies a stack of [Shatter] to an enemy for 3 turns. [Shatter] is a debuff that can stack up to a cap of 3, taking immediate effect on the attack it was applied on. Each stack of [Shatter] removes -20 MIT from an enemy, down to 0, if it has MIT. Refreshes duration upon application. 

Addons:
  - Stamina | Reduces EN of all attacks by 2
  - Focus | Decreases minor critical threshold by 1. Also reduces DoT thresholds by 1.
  - Precision | +1 ACC
  - Resolve | +1 ACC and * 10 Tier HP

Mods:
  - Meticulous | +1 Base DMG

Inactive Mods:

Battle Ready Inventory:
  - Starter Healing Potions (Restores 50HP) x2

Housing Buffs:
-Bedroom | "Rested" | -1 energy cost for the first two expenditures of each combat
-Dining Hall | "Delicious" | Turn 3 identical food items (same quality, tier, & enhancements) into a Feast. A Feast contains 6 portions of the food items sacrificed. Feasts created this way cannot be used outside of the thread they are created. Limit 1 item created per thread.
-Living Room | "Relaxed" | Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.

Crafting Profession:
-

Gathering Profession:
-   Fishing                            

 

 

Edited 14 minutes ago by Astra

[Simmone 0]

Fuck it, yoink. This character fits sorta