F01-OP Blackbook, Grand Opening

[Telrenya 0]

‘Castor.’ His words were few, but his smile was sweet. Telrenya followed that lead. Fumbling over her tongue while she fished for the correct way to present herself was only going to drown the mood that seemed to rest in the air so effortlessly. Like a thick fog surrounding them, she had little choice but to breathe in.

Their hands met and the music infected them. Slowly, for her. Her movements were unpracticed. Feet not unsteady, simply unconfident as they shifted her to and fro in time with the heavy beat. Her partner, on the other hand, carried himself seemingly effortlessly. She was silently grateful to be able to follow his lead.

The longer their bodies fell in time to the pulsing rhythm, the more natural the motions felt. Estelle may have never set foot in a nightclub, but Telrenya was a graceful fighter, light on her feet and quick to adapt. The lines began to blur. The fingers that curled around her inhibitions began to slip. Much like her partner, something like instinct took over in a way that might have surprised her if her mind would have spared a shred of self-scrutiny. There was no room for it left.

Lysette’s tantalizing voice danced across the chorus just as Castor pulled her into a spin. Her arm extended briefly in flourish, then the momentum pulled them back together.

”You’re very good at this.” She praised, letting out a genuine chuckle that dispersed any bit of nerves that may have remained. ”I don’t suppose you do this sort of thing often?” She asked, her lips settling into a playful smile. Not that she knew of any other masquerade ball venues in Aincrad, but the sentiment for the general party-goer was there regardless.

@Morningstar

[Jevi 0]

A short glass, heavy with the scent of alcohol found her before any company did, but was she truly expecting someone to just fall into her lap? Just like the crab boil, the airship, every other gathering she stepped out of her comfort zone to attend.. hoping she could find someone to interact with. A friend, a potential lover.. hell, just someone to help keep her on her feet and not lock herself in her shop  in her home again for days on end until she decided to try again. Rinse and repeat.

The rum burned as it trickled down her throat. She continued to turn the glass upwards until the ice collided with her lips, and, just as soon as she had gotten her drink, her cup ran empty once more. 

Looks like she needed a new one, a change of scenery sounded nice too. She was getting tired of watching people trying to slow dance to an vivacious, dark-pop melody. Leaving her empty glass for a sever to retrieve, Jevi rounded the dance floor. Knees peeked from the slits in her pants with each, slow step. Still eyeing the couples who were currently engaged with one another, despite her disdain.. was it possibly jealously? Not that she would admit it out loud.

Slowing to a halt before reaching her destination, she caught a glimpse of a familiar mess of green hair (@Hirru). Though with the mask adorning his face - and player-chosen name inconveniently hidden from her gaze - she could not be certain if it was her friend. Besides, he held another woman in his arms at the moment (@Vanta), it would be rude for her to interrupt such an intimate moment. Hurried steps carried her the rest of the way to the bar. Less people watching, more drinking. That sounded like a good plan. 

The watering-hole seemed much less occupied, many allowing the liquid courage to carry them onto the dance floor, or into amatory conversation with another. One individual remained at the bar, not engaging with any others. Fiery orange from the top of her ginger head to her high heels. Jevi was no good at reading others, so she could not tell if the woman preferred to be alone, or if they were sitting in the same boat; out at sea with not a single fish biting. 

"Mind if I join you?" She asked, standing in a space close enough to the woman to engage in conversation, but far enough away so she would not have to retreat if she turned down her offer for company. "Another Dark and Stormy. Extra stormy." she would address the bartender over her shoulder. "Are you waiting for someone? Or is your date at the bottom of a bottle too?" she would ask with a small smirk. "I'm not too.. great at these things. But trying to get out there more, meet more people, ya'know?"

"Sorry." the woman apologized as she took a sip of her newly acquired drink and sat it down on the counter, before reaching a hand out in greeting. 

This was a masquerade.. she wanted to make new friends but.. should she stick with the theme? Keep the mystique? Maybe a little of both. A nickname? Her name was already short enough.. what was it that Adelyte called her?

"Name's V."

@Mari

Edited 16 hours ago by Jevi

[Hirru 0]

She is rather apologetic and heavily analytical, but not in a way that that was arrogant, nor concerning.  It only took her a few moment to, not only figure out that something was wrong with the jade player, but to also find the closest way to alleviate the situation.  There were few factors that were being followed, but those were probably detailed within her mind. 

The hunter shook his head ever so slightly, but took the glass anyway.  The drink from before didn't warm him anymore than what he thought it would, but the hand that held that glass towards him was.  So too was this hand; warm behind the cool glass.

"No, thank you.  You distracted me from my own mind."

He replied before letting the glass touch his lips.  Nice and cool, though the sensation really made him feel the heat in his ears.  Letting the glass trail off to his cheek to feel a little bit more, before letting it settle back to chest level.  

"My apologies to you, for taking care of me so close to helping you.  Though saying that, the way you went through that detailed observation was.. impressive.  Not only my complexion, but how and where to get the freshest water to alleviate my issue.  Have you been observing everything in this room?"

He would ask as a joke, not really thinking that it would be a serious thing.  He was starting to let the combinations of Mack and Freyd show before Mari's words seemed to creep into his mind.

Quote

"You'll be okay...because you're Hirru.."

That's right.  He just needed to be himself, even behind the mask.  A small smile would form from behind the mask.  He did not notice the players moving around him.  Tonight, he was there to be distracted.

"Ah. sorry.. I was just about to exit for a moment.  Get some air, if you will."

He said before letting his other hand lay open, in a gesture to accept hers, if she so wished.

"Would you care to.. escort me there?  I'm sure I can handle, but I would like someone to talk to."

@Vanta

Edited 14 hours ago by Hirru

[Simmone 0]

Ph till after work

[Mari 1]

A slow blink as cerulean eyes raised to meet with emerald green - glistening just so under the flickering lights of the club. Mari hadn't expected anyone to approach her - Mari never really considered herself much of a looker. Tired circles beneath her eyes, freckles spotted all over her body. Wide hips, and a short stature - but...maybe there was some kind of allure to that, she guessed. Oscar seemed to enjoy it, as did Lancaster. Still...Years of neglect from an ex husband were not so easily wiped from her memory.

Then there was the curse of the orange crystal - ever the mark of sin floating over her head...

But here, she was not Mari.
She was not A Pker.

She was jut another lonely soul finding answers at the bottom of a crystalline glass. 

"Mind if I join you?"

Mari waved a hand toward the free seat beside her with a quick rise and fall of her shoulders. "Not like anyone else is." Mari said quietly, finishing off her glass. Mari paused. Listening to the other woman order a drink. Dark and Stormy? Rum?  Mari signalled at the bar-staff, holding up two fingers - the man nodded and gave her a drink just like her dark haired partners. "Neither." Mari replied as she circled the rim of her glass with an index finger. "It seems anyone I hang out with gets paired off with someone else." She lifted up her cup and paused just before the drink hit her lips, realizing she probably sounded bitter, or jaded. "Ah! Not that its a bad thing, I mean... It's not like I want to dance with just anyone." 

Two large gulps of her fourth drink, head buzzing. Cheeks reddened. "My hus-husband is...." Mari tilted her head, "I don't think he'd come here. Honeshtly...only reason I'm here is caush I am familiar with the host....like you... I figured maybe...I should meet some people, or shomething."

A pause as the woman introduced herself as V. "V...huh..." Should Mari use her name? Not like she had anything to hide.  "Mari."

@Jevi

[iris 0]

@Sinnamon

with a scoop of her hand, sin led them into the backrooms.

— and the anticipation through the walk was fucking killing her. iris had actively tried not to make eye contact with anyone else that might’ve seen her, and couldn’t keep her gaze off the floor as they shuffled through staff-only areas. embarrassing. it was times like these that her inexperience was showing, in spite of her desire, underlining the underlying tinges of a personal regret and fear. 

she could only hope that sin would not notice.

not that it lingered for long. when iris was introduced to sin’s office, she had been blown away by how pristine everything seemed to be kept. an educated guess from someone beyond her was that it had been untouched since it was decorated; iris just thought the furnishing choices were exuberant. luxurious. unaffordable and expensive. but sin left her little time to ogle the furniture. it was a fair motive — iris would’ve preferred to be entertained by her companion rather than the room. 

but the way she was forced into the chair took the wind out of her. sin gave her a look dangerous; iris gulped, knowing to stay put. she simply slid off her fur shawl as sin busied herself in the silence, iris too self-conscious to have noticed what the other woman was doing. the only thing staving off her bubbling dread about her self-insecurities was curiosity: iris wanted to know where things would go from here, never mind her reticence.

so she got comfortable, hands abiding to the shape of the arm rest. and just as quickly as they’d slid into a lull, they’d jumped back into the height of it — loud music, a large glass of whiskey, and suddenly —

— iris found herself straddled by sin.

she’d taken in a whiff of the alcohol as its cork was pushed out the decanter with a pop. smoky, fragrant and intoxicating; iris wasn't sure if it was the scent of fermentation or the kiss deep thereafter that got her drunk on the mood first. perhaps it had been both at the same time. and though iris wasn’t sure how it tasted to sin, she was starting to learn that it was even more delicious a drink, for certain, when she tasted it on the lips of her partner.

and her unintentional squeals had only been masked by the music, motions drowned out by the reverberations of the stereo through the floor. iris shivered under every trace of sin’s nails across her frame, craning back and forth as she was willed to expose more skin to her instigator. and, to ground herself (or to beg for more — forgive iris for not being able to tell the difference in the heat of the moment!), her own fingers tore again upon sin’s back, having risen from their displacement upon the latter’s hip and waist. with every surge she felt, drained of sanity and deprived of oxygen, her consciousness was pulled from a hazy fold in a minor act of rejuvenation. each fresh grip from then came with renewed strength and desire.

all that from iris, but in the battle of tongues, she had been losing graciously, feverishly accepting all sin would do to her. because in that mix of flesh and skin, lips made warm and numb, all iris wanted was to melt into her aggressor. and she wanted to be indomitable, as a right she knew she was familiar with, but iris only found herself a lone victory when it came to a nip on sin’s lower lips, however slight. then, she found herself chasing them through her teeth as sin pulled herself away.

iris was weakened, almost slack. from her eyes welded shut in indulgence of that kiss, barely anything was made clear in her vision. so when the clash of light and shadows assaulted her vision, it was only then that she remembered they had donned masks at the beginning of the night. now, revealed, iris was only culpable in her expression, shifting her eyes to the side as she held sin close by her hips.

“Iris.”

“sin,” she whined back, only sparing her partner a glance, but gasping at the roll of sin’s hips against her groin. she knew full well where she had meant to be teased at — what she didn’t know was sin’s secret to being so damn accurate.

“Sorry if you wanted to remain anonymous. I didn’t wanna call you Bambi all night.”

iris' chuckle came out breathy, the woman leaning in subconsciously as she braved herself for eye contact. "i suppose i could only go by an alias for so long after all?" but she shook her head. "i don't have a problem with it. you're already doing so much..."

but sin could do more. in fact, she did so, to iris’ horror. and now, even with their best intentions in mind, iris’ inexperience was definitely showing, called to front and center, because she was rendered completely still, flustered, while watching sin’s performance a feast for the eyes. she wasn’t sure if she should reach out to touch her while sin worked her body, or if iris was meant to start shedding pieces on herself just as well. the agony of indecision only ripped at her own self-control, and undoubtedly, iris found herself licking her lips, subtly chewing on the inside of her cheek after —

fuck. those undergarments. lace, like sin been planning for a night like this all along. was this a honeypot operation and she herself the first fly?

(but then why did it look — no, feel so good at the same time?)

lust doesn’t leave her gaze as her eyes trailed up sin’s body, iris mentally undoing the buttons faster than sin can work them. and sin’s voice is breathy, showing signs of effort to keep iris under her spell.

"you know, all of this has a price."

(oh shit. 100% a honeypot. girl a bitch be broke.)

she’s afraid of her own voice as she considered her col off the top of her memory: enough for a small apartment. okay, maybe two rooms in a small apartment. look, it wasn't much. but it was an allowance distributed by her connection chain and she was sure to receive more in the coming days and it was up to her to decide what to do with it regardless if it pertained to work.

her heartbeat hammered in her throat as she wondered about if she could afford it — then sin dived in the kill. the tension warring beneath her skin is palpable: iris shivers and feels the pinprick needles on her skin as the cold air stung against her from her want. 

sin was tantalizing — is still tantalizing even now. iris desperately wanted to reach underneath that shirt and glide her hands across that perfect sun-kissed body, getting her revenge on being put through the motions and ringer by making sin vocalize for her… but the thought of being held liable for a sum she could not afford held her back.

the wait, excruciating, was enough for sin to grow impatient. it showed with how fast she left iris’ domain once more. and, for the first time in a long while, iris became reacquainted with the definition of the word 'frustration'. her hesitation showed further when sin ordered her, grip on iris’ wrists and motioned towards her ribcage, and iris' fingers refused to flex smoothly in exploration, only held steady upon warmth with the slightest touch.

“I’m starting to think you don’t want me,” cooed the performer in her ear. “I’m putting in all this work just for you and you haven’t even tried to cop a feel."

iris swallowed.

"w-well, that's..."

"You can touch - I’ll let you. Break the rules, baby.”

sin returned to the offensive — iris followed, gingerly. while iris is outlined with confidence, her frame set to sin's two palms, iris' stemmed all contact with her snaking fingers from the brush of her nails, rolling flat and smooth and electrifying across sin's skin. she rolled her hips back in tandem with her partner, then realized how badly she needed a taut grip on sin for herself to achieve satisfaction with the way they operated together. that was enough a reason for her to start braving her desires to mold sin to the shape of her palms.

they're in the middle of it when sin comes to collect.

"I'm very expensive," sin reiterated. and for once, iris was given no buffer to protest nor speculate through — "I need you to fuck me up. Make it so you’re the one I’m thinking about when it’s the middle of the night and the mood strikes."

oh.

"Make it your name I fucking scream."

oh.

the proposition itself was enough to stun the woman back into silence and inhibition. sin straightened her back, and right before her hands were about to lay on iris' collar, her client murmured an almost unheard, dismissed yet shocked, "that's all it costs?"

her grip on iris' dress remained unyielding. sin closed the distance between them.

“Stop being so shy and fucking give it to me.”

(she had never known of her fang and claws until she had learned of hunger, only vaguely aware of how starved she was made to be until now. harsh, she pulled sin in, hands cupping the face of her victim before she registered her own insatiability. iris pressed their lips together in captivation and doesn't let go. a hand to the back of sin's head ensured she stayed there, while her other worked to indulge in her most base desires, wonton of restraint.

iris wasn’t sure whose voice overtakes the other's in volume. wasn’t certain if the music was successful in drowning their cries out in midst the throes of ecstasy, especially when her greed had overcome all of her regular thought processes. iris hadn’t realized just how fast they were plunging into things until the base of her thumb threatened to push that lace underwear down past sin's hips. it was then, only then, with her middle crossed over her index —)

(... well. you get the idea.)

[Vanta 0]

The hesitation and shake of his head only made her more persistent. She was relieved when he finally took the glass. There was something distant in the mans eyes, a longing. For what? She didn't know, but it wasn't a simple thing, it was more necessity than want. All she could gather in the current moment was that the kind man that now held her was in pain and she somehow found herself wanting to help him in any way she could. Whether it that meant she was used as a distraction, someone who he could vent to, or anything else really. The decision came through easily. She would stay with him, if he wished. 

"No, thank you. You distracted me from my own mind." She nodded to him reassuringly, watching as he drank. 

"My apologies to you, for taking care of me so close to helping you. Though saying that, the way you went through that detailed observation was.. impressive. Not only my complexion, but how and where to get the freshest water to alleviate my issue. Have you been observing everything in this room?"

She offered a soft smile." I ran into you, remember?" The smile faded, her gaze intent as ever. "No apology necessary, and to answer your question; yes I have." 

Her reply came honestly, Vanta was being perfectly serious. She had truly been observing everything in the room. She knew all the food choices available. She had noted the faces she'd seen amongst the masks, how many people resided on the dance floor whether paired or alone, how many people waited on the outskirts of the floor, expecting to be whisked away for a dance. She had noted the bartenders habits and the rate at which each drink offered was poured and mixed until completion, and who ordered what. What shoes people chose to wear, etc. All the little things that seemed insignificant to others, were exactly the things she habitually committed to her memory with every breath she took. In the moments she had been standing with her jade haired companion, she had noted the way his hair swayed when he moved, the way the fabric on his clothing felt smooth and soft, the way he glanced away when he was unsure, the way his grip on her would loosen just enough to shift them to a more comfortable position. She took everything in as if it were her lifeline. 

"Ah. sorry.. I was just about to exit for a moment. Get some air, if you will."

"Would you care to.. escort me there? I'm sure I can handle, but I would like someone to talk to."

The reply was reluctant; not because she was unsure of him, but because she was unsure of herself. Finally, she put her hand in his. "I'd be delighted." Her gaze softened as she looked into his eyes once more. No matter the outcome of the evening, she was glad to have met him.

@Hirru

Edited 5 hours ago by Vanta

[Artoria 0]

lancaster?

artoria’s eyes sharpen. thousands of names in idle remembrance and this one— had she heard this one somewhere?

what stops her from examining that thought to pieces is the way mari almost appears to glow when she talks about her husband. for a moment there, she’s lost in her own little world. the last thing artoria wants is to be called another man’s wife, but… love is beautiful on the faces of others. she isn’t masochistic enough to sit here and watch it flourish in a pardoned killer. she smiles, polite in excusing her momentary withdrawal with a raise of her glass. “how sweet.”

the shot burns on its way down.

 

 

it didn’t come across that artoria wants to keep her options open herself. in any old bar, maybe, she’d have started to consider moving on to someone who is more amenable to a quick fuck. but the chase is also part of the game, at least to her, and oscar’s party seems to encourage a certain délicatesse that short of properly abiding his dress code, artoria is willing to follow.

she isn’t stung by the denial. she’s a little enticed by the earnestness of it.

“very well,” she titters, then she throws a deliberate glance at her mask, one her company is meant to follow. “i’ll strive not to convince you too hard, but you should know, i prefer a bit of a pursuit. some things are more beautiful the more difficult they are to attain, aren’t they?”

and mari is fed up. so fixated is she on the red-soaked color of her dance partner’s eyes that artoria doesn’t notice mari approach until her hands are already on the wood of her bar stool and she’s pushing her forward, knocking her knees into orpheus. surprised, artoria defaults to a fruitless effort to ground herself. her elbow plunges into the table, nearly toppling what remains of their drinks, but mari’s coercion is already said and done. 

the girl playing wolf is very much concerned about her partner’s comfort. she smoothly slides out of her stool before the contact can prolong, shooting mari’s retreating figure a disbelieving stare.

but it’s almost time.

when artoria puts on her mask, she keeps it pushed to an off-angle, wearing it as one would a hairpiece rather than a facade that hides. she waits on orpheus, a hand extended cordially in invitation once he finishes his drink, and the answering warmth of his palm over hers inspires her lashes to lower in the satisfied laze of someone who has lured and caught.

“artoria, by the way. frontliner. if only i knew that this was what was waiting for me on the lower floors, i could have been convinced to cast down my gaze much earlier.”

she smiles in apology and the lights go  out. 

 

 

 no fear of discovery can hallucinate the feeling of her hold on you turning possessively strong. you are not dancing, not yet, but with her other hand finding its way to  
 your waist, the flower-scent of her hair tickling your nose as her refusal to backwards lean brings her head beneath your chin, you imagine it looks like you are. the roles 
 are reversed. the girl in the light would have asked. the girl in the dark murmurs to you through the destruction and remaking of the center floor a  command  so sweet. 

 stay close to me. you are mine for the song. 

 

 

 madness doesn't hurt.  everything is back. their hands are still joined and artoria has her head tilted, bemused at the music's tonal shift. "oh. oh, no." she ducks her head and laughs softly, embarrassed, as they begin to slowly sway, attempting to locate themselves in the beat. she surrenders the lead, but if orpheus doesn't take it, she steers them gently insistent into the motions of a slow dance... regardless of the song. "what is this? this isn't quite what i—"

Edited 2 hours ago by Pollux

[Winnie 0]

It was Winnies first time in a virtual world. Everything was new and scary. Upon her arrival in the game she had been met by dark skies. The objects fell from the clouds as though they were leaves of a tree, flittering, and fluttering downward towards her. There must have been thousands. Eyes glued to the sky slowly losing focus. Her mind subconsciously drifted away from reality. Everyone she had ever known was inside this world and she had been tasked with rescuing them. How could she even attempt such an outrageous thing?! Her mind threatened to become undone, but she fought it desperately. She felt ill, her body threatened her in retaliation to the thoughts of staying strong. This wasn't right, something was utterly, terribly wrong with her. The mere thought of her situation made her want to vomit. She couldn't do this, it wasn't as simple as the villagers had hoped. She wasn't who they wanted her to be, she didn't have the power they thought she had. Winnie was simply a girl now trapped in a death game, with no power, next to no wit, and a mind that was moments away from shattering. No. 

Despite everything within her panicking and crying for surrender she somehow convinced herself otherwise. This must have been what she was created for. This had to be her destiny. Was it not? She stood motionless watching it all unfold. A deep inhale brought her back to the present as her eyes closed. They opened slowly, she had stood there long enough to see clear skies, the sun now shined down on her face, offering a gentle warmth. How strange. A hand reached out attempting to grasp anything the world she now faced would offer. It was in vain, nothing came. A sigh followed her unrooted attempt. Her eyes cast to the ground, looking upon hundreds if not thousands of small black papers. She bent down, picking one up. The paper was thick, the lettering beautiful and precise, the meaning behind it all remained ominous. She chuckled, she knew better than to curse or mock the laws of nature, but in the moment she couldn't help but feel slightly unhinged. 

"You brought me here for this?!" The words came out angrily, a small manical tone hidden beneath her rage. She brought a hand to her face, covering it before tears began to run down. Silent sobs escaped her as she took a moment to grieve what had just been flung upon her. She couldn't bring herself to think any further about what this meant for her. If she did, she was certain it would throw her over the edge. Winnie stood, her hands fisted before going limp, the crumpled invitation falling back to the ground. Maybe I will find someone from the village. This thought was how she justified her actions, denying the truth behind her carefully built walls, she needed a distraction, if only for tonight. She changed her attire and made her way to the ball. At the entrance, what seemed to be a butler, intercepted her path and offered her a choice between Saint or Sin. She looked to and from the black and white masks, before carefully selecting. 
<<Masked>> White Masquerade Mask 

"Thank you, sir." She gave a generous curtsy before tying on the mask and entering the double doored entrance. 

She was met with overwhelming sounds, smells, sights, and feelings. The room was a massive four by four with tables lined along the walls, filled to the brim with beverages and delectable food. A bar on the far end of the room, and looking back at her from the dead center, was the ballroom floor. She walked around a bit, her brandings calling for attention. Under normal circumstances they would be hidden and found shameful, but Winnie had been taught differently. Her brandings were sacred, she wore them proudly, glaring at anyone who dared to insult her with their disgusted expressions. It was true, the brandings may not look the prettiest, they certainly couldn't be compared to the beauty of a modern tattoo, but to her it was all she had. It was the very reason she had chosen to wear her hair up. To display what she was, to show what had been done to her and if it aided her search, which she figured it could, it was all the more reason to broadcast them. The brandings reminded her who she was, reminded her of her people; and most importantly, her purpose. 

She made her way to the bar selecting a seat. The bartender met with her not a moment too soon. She gave a nod, "I'll take anything with pineapple in it. Oh and make it a double." He nodded and began working on her drink. As she waited she took a moment to look around. There were plenty of people here, none of which she recognized. The Bartender tapped on the marble in front of her, she turned her head to him, putting an open hand up for retrieval. He obliged. The drink was cold and smelled nothing short of pineapples and toxic. She grinned and saluted the bartender with thanks. She brought it up to her lips downing a big gulp before coughing. She inhaled sharply through her teeth and let out a deep sigh. "That was certainly not what I expected." 

She let a soft laugh escape before retreating and leaving the remainder of the drink behind. She wouldn't think about the fact that she had just defiled her body, she wouldn't think about the fact that if her mentor could see her now she'd be shunned, or if her villagers had known what she'd done they'd lose all faith in her. No, not now. She wouldn't let the thoughts flow in. Tonight she was someone else. They owed her that much. Besides it wasn't like this was her real body. Tomorrow was a new day. The sins of the evening would be washed clean along with the alcohol, tomorrow she would set out on the quest she had been given. So for tonight, she would do exactly as she pleased. She smiled widely and made her way to the dance floor. It didn't matter if she had a partner of not. She could dance, so that's what she did.