F01-OP Blackbook, Grand Opening

[Jevi 0]

"I gotta better idea."

The redhead was suddenly much closer to her than she was too seconds ago. Knees and shoulders bumped awkwardly as she entered Jevi's space, practically leaning into her as she scoured her inventory for something. Sipping from her drink, she watched over Mari's shoulder as a finger scrolled through the massive list of items. The names of various equipment and consumables flew by, too fast for her to make out anything eye catching. A familiar looking crystal materialized into Mari's open palm, she recognized it as, basically, a camera crystal. A selfie? she thought to herself, was Mari taking her suggestion and snapping a pic for her husband? 

And it seemed like she was going to be a part of it. 

The sweet perfume of citrus and spice had been masked by the bite of whiskey but, now as Mari faced her, the intertwined aromas were intoxicating. Tips of her fingers scathing the skin of her temples, sending a chill down her spine as Mari rounded her ear to tuck some loose hairs away. Eyes of gold studied Mari's icy gaze, the way they smiled as she admired her handiwork before turning away once more. 

The pressure of Mari's rear, sitting partially on her thigh nearly caused her to choke on her drink. Right, they were posing for a picture.. she had nearly forgotten. Wiping the corner of her lip with the pad of her thumb, she turned her attention to the crystal standing upright within the bartender's hands. A cautious hand rested on the back of Mari's shoulder - just to support her so she doesn't fall, right? 

"live in the moment. Take what you want." 

Mari's words repeated in her head. Would that be so bad? Palm lifted from Mari's exposed, freckled shoulder before the tips of her fingers slowly trailed down her side. Finding a new, more comfortable place on Mari's hip. Her lips curled into a flirtatious smile as she leaned into Mari's back, eyes on the camera. 

Not as much flare as taking a picture with an actual camera, but it did its job. 

Then she watched as Mari sent the image to her husband, an attempt to bait him into coming. 

Jevi forgot that that was the plan all along, and a twinge of guilt started to set in. 

"I'd actually love one, thanks." The image appeared in her messages a moment later. Jevi looked over it for a moment, wistful smile on her face, before waving the menu away. 

Feeling the need to turn her attention away, she shifted in her seat to look at the stage behind her. Past the dancing and the mingling couples, at the duet on stage. "Hm.." Jevi hummed twirling her drink in her hand, "Thought they would've.. y'know.. switched partners or some shit with the new song." Her words slurred as she rolled out her question. "Maybe Oscar got bored of playing matchmaker." Not that Jevi was hoping that the darkness would whisk her away into someone else's arms, she was enjoying Mari's company. On the other hand, maybe she'd stop fawning over a married woman that she had just met if she had someone else to distract her. She rose her glass for another sip, but only found ice in her cup. 

“Che cosa pensi?”

The unfamiliar voice of a man talking to her from across Mari caught her attention.

"The fuck you say to me?" 

Blunt.. and charming as ever.

@Mari@Lancaster

[Mari 1]

Mari was still close to Jevi, thighs still touching. As expected, she hadn’t received a response from Lancaster, he was probably resting. “Switch partners….” Mari slurred as she rested a head on Jevi’s shoulder. “I am enjoying yours though….I’m not really one for dancing.” A hand lifting up to fix V's hair. Mari rarely admitted to enjoying someones company, it was probably the alcohol.

Mari felt the presence of another join them and her smile faded, barely glancing at the man. She didn’t really feel like being hit on by strangers. “Don’t you just hate unwanted guests…” Mari began in an annoyed tone, shifting closer to V. Doing her best to give whoever was behind her the cold shoulder.

"A Sullivan's Cove, on the rocks... straight."

Mari visibly stilled, goosebumps erupting on her skin. Her heart beat just a little harder, it felt like it skipped multiple beats at the tone of his voice. Memories of being burned alive flashed across her mind, lie after lie after lie…lies…

Not real…..this one isn’t real…

Mari’s fingers curled inwards into a fist as she suddenly found it difficult to breathe. Dots danced in front of her vision. Who had the audacity to pretend this time? In a quick and messy motion, stumbling over her stool Mari turned to face the man. Who is it? Is he real? Is he mine? 

Wide blue eyes stared at the man before her, wearing a cocky smile she couldn’t mistake anywhere…but…but…Mari had been burned before…literally. Her right arm is a testament to that. Mari wanted to believe it was him…So terribly and irrevocably so…but…why was he here? Was someone somehow reading her messages? Was it a coincidence? “You’re…?” Disbelief as a trembling hand reached out, a tender cup of his cheek, thumb grazing his skin. Feeling the slight mark of a scar unseen, left by her, before Mari’s other hand joined on the opposite side. Was this her Vincent? Or just another imposter. “A-are you real?”  A question she would ask him every single time they’d meet after time apart.

Then a sudden jerk forward, as she pulled his face closer to hers, inspecting his eyes, name and icon hidden by his mask - but those same too flecks of green in his eye, then without missing a beat she’d jam a thumb into his mouth forcing it open. Tongue ring…back left wisdom tooth missing, but not the right. Small things no one could possibly imitate.

“Ah…”

Mari quickly let him go. “I gueshh….he came.” Mari breathed, words meant for the dark skinned woman behind her. A stuttered and deep breath in and a long and low exhale to calm her shaken nerves. Of course it was him. No one was monitoring their messages. No one could imitate the warmth that grin held… the intensity of those burning eyes. Mari would offer him a smile as she picked up his glass, drawing deep from its golden allure.

Then, a tug on Lancasters tie to pull him down to her level. Decorum be damned, she needed to claim what was rightfully hers, in front of everyone. A press of her lips to his, and a flood of alcohol passed them into his. Mari gave the man no room to breathe and waited for him to swallow before pulling away, licking her lips.

Mari would almost fall over as she took a seat back on her stool, placing a hand neatly over V’s, patting it a few times. “Thishh…is V. Ahh.. uhmm…” Worries washed away by the knowledge her husband was here, Mari was settling back into her calm near drunken state. “una bella fa…farlll…farlla in una trappola.” Mari would laugh, resting a head against Lancasters shoulder.

“You shmell good.”

Oh....She lifted her head from him and turned to V, "Thish,...her name is V. She's very nice."

Edited yesterday at 02:53 AM by Mari

[Morningstar 0]

#

[Lysette 0]

Lysette hadn’t really known what to expect when the song began. But by the time they had got into it proper, she could tell that her duet partner was a very skilled musician. His own personal flair had been sublime. His voice even more so. Though she wished that he might have leaned a bit more into it. They finished their number far more quickly than she would have hoped. It was a rare pleasure to find such a fantastic duet partner. Their number was met with a smattering of applause. Lysette noticed that the crowd had thinned somewhat. Perhaps they were availing themselves of the Upper Rooms? The back-up musicians filled the silence as they recovered from their song. A bright smile was plastered on her face as they stepped out of center stage.

“For sure! That was sooo fun!” Lysette’s reply was more chipper than it usually was. She hated her career, but she loved the music. And that shared love was infectious. Two people - sounds rising in harmony - just tickled a part of her brain she couldn’t truly articulate. “I wish I could sign that guitar or something though. You were so fucking awesome! I’d love to jam out with you. And I definitely owe you that guitar when we get out of here.”

Lysette had been so swept up in the moment that she’d almost forgotten about Abellio still milling about on the dance floor. Her gaze flicked over towards him. There was a glimmer of something in her eye, her smile cooling to a mischievous smirk. Her gaze flicked back to Jomei.

“Between you and me,” Lysette began. “He’s too nice of a guy to do anything inappropriate. We’ve held hands and kissed, but nothing really physical.” She was probably oversharing. But the night was about desire as much as it was about music. Lysette hoped that Jomei might forgive her blunt response.

“I got one more song in me for the night so I guess this girl’s just gonna have to take charge.”

—

Lysette took to the stage again. The musicians quieted and she cleared her throat with a soft cough.

“Thank you for being such a wonderful audience! It seems like everyone’s having a good time. This is gonna be my last song, so I’m gonna dedicate it to a special someone. He knows who he is.”

The band started playing. More soft tones - smooth. A pleasant melody. Lysette’s voice joined the instruments. Just as smooth, just as melodic. Haunting, even.

I put a spell on you/
Brought your fantasies to life/
Like you never knew/
Had to go and blow your mind/
Oh, oh, oh/
I, I did what I always do/
I put a spell on you/

And then the music switched. High tempo techno beats. Pounding bass. Most assuredly not in keeping with the tone. But, she had always planned on ending her little set with a bang. Though she didn’t think she would be singing it with Abellio in the room. And perish the idea of singing it to him. As the tone of the music shifted, so too did her own cadence. 

Get it up, get it up, keep it up/
Sucking it down like Dracula/
Giving him brain like amygdala/
Ain't no tricks, just abracadabra/
I make that cauldron bubble/
Double, double, toil she trouble/
Grip the wand, 'cause I ain't no muggle/
Go drip, drip, drop and I leave 'em in a puddle/

She didn’t work the crowd as she did with the previous song, but she did add her own flair to the number. Gesticulations with her hands, rolling her hips. Lysette really couldn’t have cared less if she had the room’s attention. It wasn’t for them. It was for Abellio. A very clear sign that not even that adorable idiot would be able to miss. She pushed through the song, barely able to keep her voice and her movements in time with the music. Really, she just wanted to hurry up and be done with it. Before she lost her nerve or he did. Her eyes sought him out in the crowd, her gaze locking onto his. She thought it was so fucking adorable how wide-eyed he was. Clearly, she’d had the intended effect.

Time to hammer it home.

Give him head like guillotine/
Haunted house, I make him scream/
Trick or treat 'til he explode/
Now he got a Hallo-ween/
Hope somebody checks on the boy/
Had to put an oral hex on the boy/
What's next for the boy?/
Depressed and destroyed/
Had the best and the worst, just the rest for the boy/

She broke her gaze, returning to her dancing as she finished the rest of the song. And as she sang her final lyric, she brought her hand up to her lips and blew a kiss to the audience.

“Thank you all for coming! Good night!”

And with that, she rushed off stage - allowing the band to take over for the rest of the night.

Song Three - Oral Hex

[Oscar 0]

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

“I wouldn’t consider myself a chaperone either,” he continued. He led her through the steps, a bit more at ease now than with his last dance. Oscar, generally, acted in good taste. Not necessarily because he didn’t have any sort of lascivious intentions, but because it was simply expected. Even at a time and place such as this, it was faux pas to simply go for the throat. Though he might have found it easier to cut to the quick, he would not let it be said that any of his connections were “easy.”

But seeing how the crowd began to ebb, flowing towards the stairwells to the sides of the main floor, Oscar found himself compelled to lean towards misbehavior.

“I find that they often get in the way of intention,” Oscar added. He guided Winnie into a spin, arm extending outward with hands still entwined. He pulled her back at the apex of the motion, twirling her back into his arms. In the same motion, he dipped her down low, holding her hips to his as he brought her back up in a wide, sweeping arc. “Speaking of intention. What are yours for the evening?”

A simple question. An invitation and request for honesty. The night was about desire - at least as far as Oscar thought. Simple, burning, primal. That ever-present need to find someone to sink your fangs into. That need that - in a civilized world - one had to shy away from. But with the masks and the darkness and the clarity of intent he’d cultivated, there was no need. Even if they dolled themselves up in fancy gowns and three-piece suits, the true interest was of what lay underneath.

“Because I’ll tell you mine,” Oscar said. "If you'll indulge me. If you ask me to."

A promise. A threat in some ways, if his tone was to be believed. Low, husky. A whisper just loud enough to be heard over the music. Their dancing had broken the ice. While he would not go for the throat right after meeting someone, when the opportunity presented itself…

“Interests seem to have diverged,” he continued, looking around the room. “The dance is carrying itself upstairs.” Oscar shifted his gaze down. There were many beautiful people here tonight, but he wouldn’t let the one in his arms be confused about where his attention was. “Which are you looking for? A partner for the song, or for the night?”

 

@Winnie

 

[Ceres 0]

<<Saint Mask>>

Ceres was terribly late...

But sometimes, that wasn't entirely a bad thing, now was it? It meant she could blend right into the crowds. Maybe have a drink or two, listen to some nice music, and not have the icky feeling of being the first one there. Fashionably late she was... One of the main reasons Ceres had been late in the first place is that she had been turned away for not wearing the correct attire. So the woman had to go back to town and find a tailor - then an outfit. The person stationed at the door sighed heavily. Seeing that she changed the colour of her outfit, but she was still not quite dressed for the event.

Realizing that getting her to listen long enough was an act in futility the man ushered Ceres inside, she picked up a white mask in her hand, not quite putting it on as she walked right smack bang into the middle of the dance floor, accidentally bumping into a pair of people on the way in - a green haired man and a tall pretty lady. "Oh...Sorry!" Ceres said in her usual airy tone. 

Ceres side stepped another pair of players. Now, she was standing in the middle of the dance floor, both hands clasped over her chest, holding her mask tight as she kept looking about. Confused. It seemed that a few of the others changed partners when the song changed. Was she...supposed to do that too?

Was she supposed to dance?

Where was the food? 

Who were all these masked people?

"Uhmm, Dancing Master?" She called out, to literally no one in particular. "Who am I supposed to go to?"

As though some unseen entity in the sky would shift her, but the thing she was staring at was nothing more than a yellow light.

Vanity tag: @Vanta @Hirru

[Winnie 0]

Winnie tilted her head slightly, eyes bright beneath the dim light. "You inquire about my intentions for the evening?" She flashed him a smile taking a moment to think about her reply. The music swelled around them. Oscars hand remained steady at her waist, the other guiding hers as the two of them were bound by dance. He was strong, yes- but not brutish. His confidence had rhythm, deliberate, almost practiced. 

His question rang in her ears once again. "Which are you looking for? A partner for the song, or for the night?" 

He had asked the question so plainly, as though he had been offering her a choice of snack. The sort of question that revealed as much about the asker as it sought to uncover. She could feel the honesty in it- bold, hungry, but not cruel. Desire didn't frighten her. It fascinated her. The villagers had worshipped her as something sacred, untouchable, a vessel for gifts they barely understood. But here, now, being looked at not as divine, but as a woman- it knocked at her senses in a way reverence never had. 

“Because I’ll tell you mine,” Oscar said. "If you'll indulge me. If you ask me to."

She felt his breath when he drew her near again, the faint brush of his jaw against her temple as they turned. The scent of spice and liquor clinging to him. His voice had dropped to a murmur, nearly lost in the music. Each step seemed to erase another inch of distance between them. She smiled as he twirled her about, leading into a charming dip. The man danced well, a quality she was happy to find in her partner. Her answer came, 

"My intention is to dance, to breathe, and perhaps survive your questions." Her eyes met his, "You speak of desire like it's a game, but tell me Oscar- what will you do when it stops playing back?" She smiled faintly, a hint of melancholy threading in her tone. "Careful, dances can take more from you than you intend to give." She brought a hand up and ran it through his hair, before trailing it down along his jaw, catching his chin. "To answer your question directly... what about both? Finish the dance with me Oscar? Wherever you lead after, I'll follow. At least for tonight."

 

@Oscar

Edited 23 hours ago by Winnie

[Oscar 0]

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

He had questions, but now wasn't the time.

And even so, there was only one that loomed large in his mind:

What happens when two spiders find themselves entangled in the other's web?

Oscar held fast to control. Outcomes and methods, careful machinations weaving a tapestry. An end result of his own design. Made real through his own hands, his own efforts. Often, he had no clue where his own plans would lead. But he could control his response, his emotions. Temper, unleash - all valves that released or increased pressure within that great engine of his psyche. And yet even he could find himself tested.

Enraptured.

Intrigued. 

Enthralled.

This woman was a curiosity. A novelty. Speaking as one who had never been truly desired. For if she had been, she would not ask such a silly question. It trapped his attention, his curiosity. Wrapped him up in a web he wasn't certain that she knew she was weaving. And perhaps that was the biggest frustration of all. That a stranger had found a gap in his armor with no conscious effort and struck fast with a dagger.

If he didn't know any better, he would think that she had been sent to undo him.

“People want,” Oscar said simply. “Always. It's a fact of life.”

His own web had been woven through conscious effort. Carefully chosen words and a steadfast carriage. He, too, knew how to be alluring.

Intriguing. 

Enthralling.

There was an innocent purity there, ignorant of the umbral hunger that surrounded her. Every person, every pair was ravenous for the person opposite them. They would deny it. Fill their bellies with lies and bluster. But it would never be as satisfying as indulgence. A simple moment of gluttonous satisfaction.

It was in times such as these that Oscar was reminded that at his core, he was not a good man. He fought against his better nature, tried to be decent. Succeeded often, failed rarely. The impulse to take, debase, and despoil always loomed over him. The ever-present devil on his shoulder. Telling him to lay waste, burn the crops, salt the earth.

And it screamed now.

Oscar knew better than to listen. 

“It's a thing better shown than told,” Oscar said. “I would caution against making promises so freely. But I'll see that you keep them. Every one. The dance now and then after-” He leaned in close, lips almost grazing her earlobe. His voice came out low, almost a growl. “I will show you what it means to be wanted.”

@Winnie

[Cascade 0]

.....

Edited 19 hours ago by Cascade

[Winnie 0]

Winnies breath caught- not from surprise, but from the precision of his words. A promise, a threat, a confession, all dressed in courtesy. Oscar was the kind of man that hid his hunger under refinement, and Winnie someone otherworldly with a sudden curiosity about her own humanity. She felt his fingers grazing her brands before resting between her shoulder blades. His touch was gentle, she found herself liking the sensation. Curiosity struck, what went through his mind? Others had found them disturbing, disgusting, strange. She pushed the question aside. He seemed to move along in thought, she followed. Her reply would neither yield nor harden, but it would blur the line between challenge and invitation. She let the silence stretch them until it nearly hummed. His words, tone, and the closeness with which he said it caused her to shiver. Then she laughed softly- low and lilting, like a candle flickering before it goes out.  

"Be careful Oscar, you say that like it's a gift." She tilted her head to the side as she eyed him. He swayed her about. "To be wanted, to be consumed until there's nothing left... I've seen what people do in the name of wanting. How easily tenderness becomes ruin." She smiled at him. "Understand 'want' cuts both ways, you may think you're the hunter, but the web is already moving." She leaned in close whispering into his ear, "Still then, if you can teach me something by the end of the night, you will have earned every breath I give you. Let's see if your 'wanting' keeps its rhythm when the song ends."

She leaned back, looking into the mans eyes. The music hadn't stopped but it felt quieter. The notes hung in the air like suspended breath. The chandeliers above them spilled amber light in fractures, the kind that softened edges and made sinners look divine. The ballroom carried on as if time couldn't interfere. Conversations, laughter, the clinking of glass ware- it all blurred into hazy backdrop. The only real sound was the cadence of their breath and the whisper of fabric against fabric. She looked deep into his eyes, his expression unreadable. She could have a sharp tongue, had it gotten her in trouble? Their dance became slower, tighter. He was warm against her. Their movements were measured but every glide of her hand or tilt of his head had them adapting to a new rhythm, one neither had agreed on, but somehow understood. The other dancers seemed distant now, the world narrowing to heat and heartbeat, the rise and fall of breath, the faint rasp of her dress catching his cuff. The scent of spice overwhelming her senses, her own floral scent accompanying. 

He spun her out- the movement sharp; he reeled her back in; quickly, precisely, her arm sliding up his own, finding its way once more to the back of his neck. She ran her fingers through his hair, it felt clean and soft. She tilted her head flashing him another smile. "You really are quite the charmer."

 The voices of her villagers threatened to break through, she was here for a reason. She was in a way, betraying them by getting involved with the man, even if it was only for a night; or so he claimed. She fought against her better nature. She had decided early on that she would escape, if only temporarily, from the fate that lay before her. She wanted to get lost in the stranger, wanted to know what he had to offer. There really was only one way to find out, so she stayed, even though everything within her told her to depart.

"I promise nothing freely, I may not fully understand the weight of what I've allowed, but I am no fool. I always weigh my options. Of this I can assure you."

 

@Oscar

Edited 9 hours ago by Winnie

[Arbalest 0]

Set on the idea of joining an event, Arbalest would groan in annoyance at the idea of having to dance. What a stupid waste of time. If it wasn't for the possible extra experience or equipment she wouldn't think twice about joining it.

When she entered, she had no intention of joining the dance so Arbalest would attempt to ignore the mask-giver. Unfortunately, it was locked to anyone without one. So she put on a black mask, not even bothering to check what it looked like, and entered the ballroom. Players, she assumed since she couldn't see cursors, filled the floor dancing to the music. Arbalest quickly diverted to the food. If she was gonna have to hang out here she was at least going to get a free meal. She sat at a table alone with a loaded plate and enjoyed herself in her own way.

Spoiler

Name: Arbalest
True Tier: 1
Level: 1
Paragon Level: 0
HP: 20/20
EN: 20/20

Stats:
Damage: 4

Equipped Gear:
Weapon/Armor/Trinket: 
  - 
Armor/Trinket: 
  - 
Shield/Armor/Trinket: 
  - 

Combat Mastery:
  - 

Combat Shift:
  - 

Familiar Skill:
  - 

Custom Skill:
  - 

Skills:
  - Claws R1

Extra Skills:

Inactive Extra Skills:

Addons:

Mods:

Inactive Mods:

Battle Ready Inventory:

Housing Buffs:

Guild Hall Buffs:

Scents of the Wild Totem:

Wedding Ring:

Crafting Profession:

Gathering Profession:

Arbalest | HP: 20/20 | EN: 20/20 | DMG: 4

[Hirru 0]

***

[Oscar 0]

“The freedom to want freely is a novelty. The freedom to act on those desires, even moreso,” Oscar replied. “That’s the point of the evening. To unashamedly chase that which you want.”

He had to admit to himself that she was right. People had worn themselves to dust in the name of desire. Wars fought, nations burned to ash. They wanted what they couldn’t have. Be it the love of a woman or the fertile lands of a neighbor. And so it drove them to bring their new enemy to ruin, only to find that to be their reward at the end of it all. But there was a key difference with this energy that built between her and him. 

Oscar didn’t seek her ruin.

“I’m not the hunter,” Oscar said. He couldn’t help but be slightly offended by the implication. That his intent, his gaze, his touch - his attention - were predatory. “I’m not trying to devour-” In the metaphysical sense, at least. “Only to indulge myself. And allow you to do so, if you please. I don’t mind the web, if I’m being honest. If you’re offering the freedom to have you as I wish, it’s only fair I do the same.”

Lysette’s final song ended. And, of course, the duties of the host fell back to him. He enjoyed the time to be free of the strings of his own party, but alas.

“C’est la vie,” Oscar breathed out. “It was a welcome break.”

He took a step back, parting from Winnie for just a moment. The clapping of his hands rang out. Lights flicked off, then on. Within the darkness, the sensation of movement. And then the lights returned. Oscar stood above the party, looking down at the shifted crowd. In the process, he had stolen his partner away from the floor to join him upon his perch above it all. He would hold vigil here for the remainder of the night, he thought. Assuming his company was willing.

“It is quite fun to play the magician,” Oscar mused. “Though I think I’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.”

From his place above the floor, he noticed there was something amiss. Perhaps it was sharp eyes or simply a gut feeling. But the way certain people moved in the crowd didn’t strike him as the movements of those that were here to truly enjoy the party. They had a different intention. And they didn’t strike him as good. The first shattered bottle was the clue. At the bar, glass stuck to a poor woman’s scalp, her shoulders as ruby red liquid drenched her gown. The culprit head the remains of the bottle by the jagged neck. 

The impulse was to act.

He held himself back.

And Oscar took a moment to think.

All at once, he came to the realization that these interlopers were the welcome sort. The point was to blow off steam. And, for some, that relief would not come in the form of the carnal - but of the violent. So he would wait, coiling his arm around his companion as he watched the show. Oscar’s time as an active player at the ball was winding down to a close. And it was the least that he could do to allow people to enjoy themselves in as many ways as possible.

"I think there are enough people on the floor to deal with this little hiccup," Oscar said, looking down at Winnie with a smile. His arm wound ever-so-slightly tighter around her waist. "My wanting must be strong indeed if I'm finding myself so wonderfully distracted from my own party."

DIFFERENT COMPANY
Blackbook follows its owner's decree. The room shifts at his command. Or perhaps you did. You find yourself hand-in-hand with a person different than the last as the lights return.

@Lessa & @Jomei
@Pollux & @Arbalest
@Cascade & @Simmone
@Azhoda & @Ceres & @Bliss

BEASTS ALL OVER THE SHOP
Party crashers of ill-repute have found their way into this sanctum of indulgence. Deal with them as you please. Violence is also an indulgence, after all. 
 

[Simmone 0]

PH, did a Aincrad Waifu just land on Simmone's Lap?

Will fill after work @Cascade