F01-OP Blackbook, Grand Opening

[Shikari 0]

They whispered their name into his ear.

(and time slowed. they’re close. intimate. 

maybe it had been ages since he’s had this much closeness pressed against someone else. shikari’s found his breath caught lodged in his throat from a gasp of air drunk deep, legs almost stilled from motion by the lack of distance between them. 

almost.

there had been a whiff of something fragrant from their near presence, and shikari might’ve been convinced then that if he were willing to close his eyes, that worldspinning reverie would be no different than with prior bodies familiar he’d held onto in the dark.)

“but if you treat all your majesties this way, i could be convinced to lend you mine for the rest of the night.” 

A grin was drawn upon Shikari’s face, easing from the hard shadows to a gentle ambient glow when they’d pulled away. He chuckled, then, as they continued their push and pull, their practiced steps back and forth. They end as captivated as he had been in that moment — Shikari abided by Sibyl’s wishes for a twirl that sent them away, then read the rhythm of the song. He dragged them back in by their waist on the final beat, striking with poise akin to that which they started out with. This time, their fingers were interlocked.

Their attention was called from the stage, and they paused. Their emcee transitioned them into a slow dance given the performance interim, and Shikari returned to Sibyl, his hand on the small of their back with a smile. What was surprising to him, as they drifted apart, was how there were only a few pairs on the floor that had seemed liken to trade off partners; they were not one of them. With the sudden shift of energy from their hosts, however, perhaps it didn’t feel formal enough a dismissal. So, left in the afterglow, they remained circling around each other. Slow, comfortable.

A question lingered at the back of his mind.

“I’d like to think I’m a gentleman,” Shikari started, his head tilted slightly. “And by your decree, given you are royalty tonight, I’d let you decide with your own discretion, Sibyl.”

(there was a roll of his tongue, smooth like butter, that started on an answer to dawn upon him as he said their name. the air, humming with tension amidst the other patrons, felt only broken by a sweetness in his echo of their handle. 

shikari sighed into it, contemplating the fleeting dream.)

“... There are better things you can call me, if you’d like.”

Had he let that query linger, it was to his own benefit. Shikari had to check: was he reading the room right? The conclusion he had arrived at cited no profound realization. After all, there were stranger things to have happened in Aincrad; he was certain his ‘re-existence’ was one of them. His gaze went to the necklace, caught in highlights reflecting the room’s illumination, and was coaxed into a welcome serenity.

He motioned with his lips, a gaping worth of a single syllable, tested unsaid as he swung them around. His hold seemed to be tight on Sibyl as they slid past another pair.

“Or, you could decide to come up with something better from ‘Sylvester’, of course.”

Had they stayed paired long enough to listen to the announcement made upon Lysette’s return, Shikari might’ve perked up, having been caught unaware. He was not one known to prefer a change of plans, but while he was re-envisioning the night given the chance, why not? 

“A new stage, was it?” 

He surveyed Sibyl for their response.

“Forgive me if the invitation seems forward, but I’d like to take one of the rooms they have upstairs later. Would you care to join me?” He gestured briefly with a finger or two pulled away from their shared hold. “I figured it would be a welcome respite from the crowd, if only for a moment. There’s no shame in resting up after breaking a sweat. Maybe it’d be a good place for a nap, if the hosts allow for it.”

(the sleep was one modus operandi that never seemed to change.)

Instinctively, behind the mask, Shikari winked. “But if you’ve got places to be, I’ll understand. Promise I wouldn’t hold you up for long.”

[Winnie 0]

This hadn't been her goal, she didn't come here for this, for him. Yet she found herself on the edge of his knife, ready to give in, yet horrified to do so. Everything within her warred against her flesh, but it was being drowned into a muffled ghost with every inch he claimed. This was dangerous, foolish. He would change her, her old self would die the moment he bridged the gap... if he did. She felt it, he was trembling, it hadn't been her imagination. She looked into his eyes once more, the question begged, Why? Why did he shake? What wound them so tightly? Why did she feel this way?! Her pulse quickened. 'Surrender comes at a hefty cost.'

Another inch closer. Fear ringing in her ears. 

She leaned back, the rod digging into her back, she had knowhere to go, there was no escape. Her mind raged. The realization hitting her, drowning her, I'm scared, but I need you. It was too much, she was overwhelmed by him, lips crashing into hers. She breathed in sharply, her mind went blank, body going limp in his hold. She was completely and utterly enraptured by him. Oscar.

Finally she found her strength, instinct taking over. Her arms wrapped around him, clinging desperately. He held her so close, kissing her deeply, she matched him, unpracticed, yet sweet, devouring him. They didn't listen to one another. They both knew, this was beyond unwise. But here they were, driven to one another without another hesitation. They locked together, cleanly, bodies fitting perfectly against the other. His kissed her hungrily, his own need seeping through the carefully structured walls.

She could feel his body tense, then relax all in the same moments, hand sliding up her body possessively before curling around her head, locking her in place. She shifted slightly, leg wrapping around his in a desperate attempt to get even closer. Arms, curling, and wrapping around his neck slowly, sloppily, tightly. Every touch of her palms was heavy, laced with heat, fingers traveling through his hair smoothly, soft tugs telling him to keep doing what he was doing. 

Finally he broke away, ragged breaths leaving them, her eyes opening to meet his. Oscar pressed his forehead to hers, her eyes closing once more. She ran a hand through his hair gently, trailing it down to cup his cheek. She wasn't sure what had provoked her to do so in the aftermath, but it felt right. 

For a moment, she stood there, taking in what had just happened. The world was soundless- just the frantic rhythm in her chest, the ghost of his lips still lingering on her own. Her mind threatened to recoil- the bare truth hitting her harshly, he wanted her. Not to worship her, or use her for her 'power.' No, he wanted the woman, the Her that had bled and broke and doubted. Everything screamed within her to stop, to run far away and never look back- to remember her station, her purpose. But her body disobeyed, her fingers trembling, the other hand tracing along his collarbone, feeling the heat beneath his skin. The tremor in his breath, matching her own. 

"Not an indulgence." He paused his tone thick, dark. "I want- all of you. If you would share." her heart lept in her throat, this was it. Her answer decided it all. There was something so painfully mortal in his defiance, could she be free like this? She opened her mouth to reply but the words didn't come, only a soft sigh, one of surrender. It took her a moment, but eventually she spoke. 

"You want me, but what if not all of me is gentle? What if everything under the surface burns?" she looked back up at him, slowly, carefully, her fear showing blatantly this time. Her breath hitched, the next words coming out shakily, "I want you so badly it hurts. I'm terrified Oscar, of what this is, what it all means." It was the most cutting, real thing she had ever confessed, and it was for him alone. Her eyes searched his a moment more, then her body overtook everything, nothing could stop it now. She grabbed his collar pulling him back in. She kissed him, fully this time, with a desperate clarity of someone standing at the edge of a fall and stepping forward anyways. The kiss was fevered, chaotic, too human to be holy. Her divinity barely recoiled, her soul surged. 

Every nerve felt alive, sparkling like starlight across her skin. She tasted him- the salt of breath, the heavy ache of want. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as though she were anchoring herself to the mortal world. For a moment she wasn't divine. She wasn't a savior or symbol or myth. 

She was simply alive. 

And here with him. 

Edited Thursday at 05:39 PM by Winnie

[Arbalest 0]

Only having just sat down, Arbalest quickly found herself in the same feelings those amongst the dancers. When those feeling began to dissipate instead of being re-introduced to the plate of food that she so desperately desired was replaced with a lovely looking woman. As great as she looked, Arbalest herself was not in costume -- besides the mask of course -- and was so surprised by the sudden shift of her position. It was quickly making her sick despite her prior experience.

"Ugh...Fuji was less nauseating than that-" She started complaining before noticing Bliss. "Oh. You're not the hotdog I ordered but you've certainly go the 'hot' down." Arbalest was never one to hold her thoughts to herself. Still, she returned the bow as is a custom she respected. Even if it wasn't necessary amongst peers, like themselves, but they were still strangers so it wasn't farfetched.

Immediately, she attempted to introduce herself yet... Something stopped her? A supernatural force controlled by the game forced her lips closed on the subject. Her anger at the obstruction of formality went in the face of everything she felt was proper. After struggling through grunts of stunted dialogue she gave up. "Ahem- Excuse me. It seems that pleasantries must be disregarded. As much as my blood boils at such a distasteful practice... I will side step it for now."

It was only when she reached out to take Bliss's hand that she'd noticed the pork in her hand - Literally. "I only came here to enjoy the food... Oh well." The dog disappeared into hammerspace where would sit for later consumption.

Edited Thursday at 02:11 PM by Scarlet Firefly

[Reytac 0]

Reytac adjusted the collar of his shirt, loosening it slightly as he took in a deep breath. He had debated, going back and forth with himself, on whether or not he should attend the masquerade. He hadn’t gone to many large parties – attending the cookout how been the first time he’d seen more than a couple of Players together at the same time in over a year – but he finally convinced himself that he should go. Should remind himself that he wasn’t alone here – hells, that he even knew people again. And, it would be a chance to unwind and meet some new people, to reconnect with being human. He’d even gone so far as to get an outfit for the event, and a cane to finish the ensemble. It had been a while since he’d worn anything fancy like this, barring the cosmetic for the trick or treating, and he felt a little stifled in it. Aphrael landed on his shoulder and let out a soft squawk into his ear, and he chuckled before reaching up and stroking the white star on her chest.  
”I know, I know. I’m still sitting here and second guessing myself, aren’t I? It’s not like anyone is going to be upset I showed up, huh, girl?” The raven let out another squawk and affectionately nibbled at his ear before preening his hair as he started walking toward the entrance to the venue. As the bird gave his ear one last nip with her beak before taking off, flying up towards one of the nearby rooftops. For a moment Reytac watched her go, envying the freedom, and then shook himself before turning to the doorman, who was looking towards him with a placid, bland expression. The man held up two masks, a white one and a black one, and after a moment, Reytac took the white mask, slipping it into place. He watched as above him, his cursor and name vanished, and he chuckled softly.  
”Anonymity’s shadow, huh? Alright.” He tapped his way inside, the cane clicking with every other step as he pushed inside. And for a moment, he took in a nice ambiance, calm air as soft music played and someone sang. A slight smile stretched his lips as he looked around – before freezing as he felt someone jostle into him from the side, and he got a split second to see someone on his other side throwing red wine at him – or more likely the person who had just run into him - that splashed against his coat, dripping down to the floor.  
Reytac took in a deep breath and exhaled it through gritted teeth as the person who had thrown the wine stumbled forward, jabbing a finger into his chest. The man babbledsomething  incomprehensible, and splashed the dregs of his glass against Reytac again. And Rey tried, hard, to not react, he was trying to be firm and polite, until the NPC reached up and grabbed at his collar, trying to push Rey around – towards the door. 
”Gots ‘nuf people in ‘re already. Dun need no more. Out with you, out-OW” Reytac had slammed his cane down on top of the man’s foot, making the NPC let out a yelp of pain. Rey could already see some bouncers moving towards them from around the room, so he restrained himself to cracking the head of the cane against the man’s leg, making him crumple to the ground. 
”I came here, to relax, drink, and unwind. Not get harassed and accosted by a drunk who covered me in wine.” He said in frustration as the man was hauled up by the bouncers who had reached them, and dragged away. Reytac’s shoulders slumped and he shook his head in frustration before he tried to shake the worst of the wine off of his suit jacket as he made his way towards the bar to get a drink of his own. 
 

 

 

Reytac: Masked, Saint. 
Reytac | HP: 640/640 | EN: 82/82 | DMG: 21 | MIT:36 | ACC:2 | EVA:2 | BH:6 | REC: 2 | BLD: 24  | LD:3                                                                       

                                                      

 

Edited Thursday at 06:29 PM by Reytac

[Jomei 0]

 "You're mine"

A flush of warmth traveled across his cheeks, contrary to the prickling coolness that traveled up his spine. His heart like a wild drum, beating in time with the song. Uncertain if it was the percussion, or his own heartbeat in his ears. Yet those whispered words still pierced the boom of the bass and the cacophony of conversations around them and melted his core.

Lessa was matching his energy, and was doing it better. It was only after their lips separated did he try to take hold of the reins again.. though the soft touch of her lips made coherent thoughts impossible. 

Now hand in hand, Jomei led Lessa to their own little spot on the dace floor. Lysette's song faded and, as applause from the crowd died down, softer, more casual music took its place. A bit easier to dance to, with his untrained feet at least. 

"Is that so?" Jomei responded with an impish smirk of his own. "Lucky for you then, I'm not going anywh-" 

CRASH

Callous laughter and shrieks filled the room as multiple individuals began causing mayhem. Simple party crashers or something more, most seemed to just be in it for the chaos; tossing half emptied drinks into the crowd, knocking over furniture as they passed. Others, however, seemed to take it a bit farther, threatening some of the other party goers with violence. 

Flash back to the gala atop the airship, and the bang of pirates who had attacked them. Coincidentally enough, they also interrupted the couple from sharing a dance. 

His free hand balled into a fist, "Is it too much to ask for just one night?" Jomei muttered through grit teeth, malice poisoning his words. He only managed to take two steps before a tug on his opposite hand held him at bay. Lessa, his anchor, keeping him grounded as always. Masked gaze would look back at her, to the trouble being caused, and finally resting upon her once more.

"Let someone else handle it for once. I've been waiting all night for this." 

The sudden commotion cleared a bit of the dance floor as various players broke off to save the night form these ruffians. Jomei would not be one of them.

Let the Saints play hero. Tonight, they were Sinners.

"Want to dance?" 

[Jevi 0]

"We could find you shomeone? Maybe not though... I don't -"

Jevi did find someone though. Perhaps not a lover or someone to keep her bed warm like Mari was insinuating, but she found someone to spend time with. Connect with. Jevi wasn't feeling lonely, for once in a long time, and that's all she could ask for. Even if it was a bit too soon to call this woman her friend, at least, for tonight, they could act like it. 

For now, that was enough. 

"Well, I've used my name at least."

"Hey, not my fault you're not good at the masquerade game." Jevi teased her. "Besides, I techni.. tech-ni-cally gave you my name... just not my full one." 

Haven't you been reading these posts? Everyone's terrible at dancing :)

Mari accepted, reluctantly, to dance, claiming that she wasn't much of a dancer. "Theres no right way to dance, just move. Do what feels good." Jevi called to Mari over the music as she began to dance. "Right." she corrected herself quickly, "I mean, do waht feels right." Before she could really get into it, the song came to an end, and softer music took its place. She was hoping the louder music would stay, help drown out the room around them so they could really get lost in their dancing. But the night had other plans. The song was not a slow dance by any means, but it was definitely more of an intimate melody. 

If Lancaster was going to hunt down Mari and whisk her away from Jevi, then she wasn't going to make it easy for him. In fact, she decided she was going to enjoy this the best she could. For Mari's sake.. but she could use the fun too. Snagging a random drink off of a passing waiter's tray, she downed it in a single go. She didn't care if it was going to someone else, they weren't paying for it.

Oof, martinis are not good for drinking that fast. But it gave her the burning courage she needed. 

Taking a step deeper into the crowd of dancers, Jevi would pull Mari along. Yanking the ginger towards her in a way that spun Mari around, she caught her with her back to Jevi's chest. One arm snaked around her waist, palm on her stomach, the other hand gently rested on her hip. Swaying side to side in time with the music, she led her partner along. Chin slowly lowered towards Mari's shoulder, face hovering just beside hers. Her voice like a purr in Mari's ear, lips scathing the edge of her ear as she spoke. 

"Well then. He's going to have to work for it. Because I'm playin for keeps." 

Did she mean it? Not entirely. She didn't want to be known as a homewrecker. 

But she could have her fun, couldn't she? 

[Mari 1]

"Oh...I'm terrible at the mashkeraiding game." Mari said covering her mouth with her hand, hiding a wide smile. "Hell I ripped thi-this thing off within moments. I'm bad at hiding...I kinda..." Mari took a step back from V, holding out her arms as if presenting herself, "I mean..orange on orange on orange?" A step closer to V to place one arm on the womans shoulder, the other found its way in her hand.  "But...being who I am...I ain't got accshesh to like...shops and stuff." Her smile faded at that, Mari was fine with being orange. With failing redemption. But with times like this, thinking of what kind of dress she could have chosen...it did disappoint her a little. Her eyes fell to still healing burns on her right arm. Then to the scar around her right wrist. Wounds inflicted because of who she was. What she had done. Mari closed her eyes with a soft sigh. 

The two were moving, just barely, and the song ended - V, still with an arm around Mari's waist reached to down an entire martini. Then with a quick step closer to Mari she took charge, and Mari all too willingly accepted, letting the other woman take the lead. Allowing herself to fall to the sway and for once, loose control. She couldn't lie, there was a large part of her that enjoyed this. Just being able to live in the moment. Even the warm tingle of the other womans breath against her neck was welcomed. So Mari reciprocated, a tilt of her head toward V's - placing her hand over the other womans, a tight squeeze, doing her best to dance in the way V had decided.

Mari's eyes shifted around the room, to the banister above. She saw Oscar, leaning over the rails, entangled with a woman doused in cerulean as though she were the ocean itself. There was a pang of nostalgia in her chest but all Mari could do was laugh, and offer the man two little thumbs up from where she stood. As if to say, good job friendo. She doubted he could see her, or would even glance her way - so wrapped up in what he was doing. Mari swore she had seen him with a different woman at the beginning of the night- dude worked fast. Still, as long as he was happy - that's all that mattered. One of the few people she considered an actual friend.

"Well then. He's going to have to work for it. Because I'm playin for keeps." 

"Keeps?" Mari tilted her head, letting her temple rest against V's, her hair spilling over V's shoulder as she felt the woman tighten her hold around her. Chest pressed into Maris back. She thought for a moment, who'd ever want to keep her around? Besides Lancaster.... A snort, as she thought she'd give V the very same warning she once gave her husband. "Careful. I'm d-hic-dangerous." Said with a soft laughter as Mari turned, albeit with a little difficulty with how tight V's grip was around her waist. "But- I welcome the attempt." Mari was incredibly close to V, so much so that she could see just how different a hue of blue she had, shards of a lighter shade, almost like ice penetrated V's iris, a glimmering smattering of fine art. "It'd be a shame if you were hurt. Cause...I quite like you, V." A quiet admission, clear from the addled slurs of alcohol. Genuine. For it wasn't often Mari got along so well with someone.

Vanity @Lancaster  @Oscar

 

Edited yesterday at 02:59 PM by Mari

[Arsine 0]

<<Masked: Saintess>>

"Ahh~" She clasped her hands together in delight as soft green eyes, hidden behind the veiled mask of the Saintess wove over the crowds within the decadent dark den. "Who knew such a place existed!"  People danced across a dimly lit floor, vibrations from exuberant music rattled her core in all the right ways.  Soft lights flickered above, the scent of sweet drinks and savory foods filled her nostrils.

"Perhaps....I am under dressed?" Arsine thought aloud, tapping a glossed lip with one of her clawed fingers. The woman hadn't bothered to change into a gown, or anything of the sort. When she saw the flyers littering the sky, the ground, most everywhere Arsine initially thought it some kind of PR stunt from a frontliner, or perhaps a well thought out trap from a nefarious group wishing to prey on the vulnerable. Still... curiosity got the better of the woman and she chose to attend the event. As is. The only addition, a white mask, made of porcelain and shaped into that of a cats face. How apt, for the woman hoped the event would leave her mewling, purring in delight. 

Fashionably late, or perhaps..far too late Arsine decided as slow, languid steps lead her through the dance floor, past couples in throw throws of passions, some slow danacing, others pressed against each other. The heavy scent of hedonism and decadence in the air. This was her kind of place. But the night was well under way and Arsine had regretted not arriving earlier. Most everyone here was paired off already. Aside from a lone red-head at the bar - but he shot her a look that said 'leave me the fuck alone'

 

So with  a slender finger tapping the bar, the woman ordered a tall fancy cocktail. She sat herself right on the bar, rather than the bar stool, a woman of her stature, her nature, deserved to be higher up, after all. "How lovely..." Arsine said as she stirred the drink, a soft purple concoction filled with luminescent glitter.
 

[Simmone 0]

A muddied mix of emotion, of passions and of desire. Simmone found herself liberated and yet suffocated by it. A small frame had since drawn itself closer becoming intertwined and wound in her own, a supple softness hoisting itself on her hips that felt as embracing as it was comforting. Akin to that of a flustered bit of sunlight on a cold afternoon, it threatened to melt resistance and bleed a whole new tempo that dwarfed their surroundings. The Blackbook in all of its elegance had become nothing more then a muffled whisper, a backdrop now muffled and squelched under racing heartbeats. The humming pulse mixed with electrical static that raced through pressed palms, an unending droplet of the now that worked to erode any reluctance and abolish troubles that lingered to the next morning. The future had fallen silent, waiting its turn and remaining patient. Thin fingers trace a tanned shoulder as some of their own dance around Simmone's collarbone, a dance all their own allowing passion to flow where words would not.

That hand of hers, the Black Cat's paw swimmed lightly across Cascade's darker skin drinking deep the warmth it gave off. Hot to the touch, threatening to burn if even turned up even that much more. "My aren't we forward?" Simmone offered in a whisper as a fond farewell and incentive is delivered under belated breath, as if there was an animal beneath something so small. "You'll find..." That thin line of porcelain made circles on a shoulder, encouraging as well as teasing. This was after all a game to play, and unlike most she'd savor it. All fine meals were meant to be enjoyed, not rushed to the final bite and consumed without tasting. In that same vein, Simmone knew how to enjoy a meal. Especially one delivered in her lap. "I am quite confident... Would you like a taste?" The sentence finishes with her right hand tucking itself neatly underneath Cascade's hair, winding itself in the strands it could reach. it tickled as that white hair dripped through her fingertips, raining down and asking to be wound even tighter.

Nested into a grip, her left hand seeks itself around and pulls abruptly into Cascade's love handle like a harness causing them both to become pressed together in a embrace so tight it threatened to burst at the seams. Flesh on flesh, skin on skin with nothing more then cloth between to stave an advance and what promised to be a pleasant evening. As zealous as before, a cat with a ball of twine Simmone makes good on her offer but waits not for it to be accepted. Instead her experienced lips find themselves pressed and sipping at the sweet succor that was @Cascade's in a playful and carnivorous fervor tempered with a teetering temptation that threatened to topple them both. Each moment tongues slide and share their pain as well as satisfaction, channeling a longing and emptiness being crushed betwixt them as well as an ache for it to be relieved for but one night.

Edited 16 hours ago by Simmone

[Lysette 0]

“So about that oral hex-”

Heat rushed to Lydia's face instantly. It was hard to play the part, here in his arms. She didn't have to put on airs for Abellio. Didn't need to pretend to be confident or go out of her way to be sexy. She could just... be. No mask, no character. Lydia could take center stage without fear, lay Lysette to rest and simply let Abellio's warmth melt her. Even now, even after she'd done what she had done and said what she had said - wrote a check as Lysette that Lydia would need to cash - he was still so warm. Still smiling. And before, she'd feel rebuffed. As if Abellio was just being Abellio - oblivious even if she made it so fucking obvious.

But for the first time, there was a hunger in his gaze. That possessive way he held her. He wouldn't say it directly - Abellio was too nice for that. Too good a person. But when she got him alone? When they finally got the fuck out of here? She just knew. And she couldn't help but return that expression. Clinging to his frame, arms locked around his neck and staring up at him with half-lidded eyes.

"I was wondering when you would get it," she said with a slight smirk. "You really had me starting to think you didn't want me."

A lie. She had to hope he would read between the lines. Understand how badly she needed him tonight. How he'd left her wanting so many nights before. But some of that was her fault. Awkward partings at the end of the night where she so badly wanted to tell him to come home with her. Bring him back to her place so he could stake his claim. So she could wake up, hair a mess, head resting on his chest as the sun came up through the trees.

She pulled him down into her, kissing him back as passionately as he had been gentle. It was a strange contradiction. She loved the way he looked at her. His smile and the way he held her. It was the first time in her life that she felt safe. 

There was always someone to fuck with her whenever she felt safe.

She heard movement behind her. Abellio sensed it too. She felt him bristle. And she just moved.

Her heels clicked against the floor and in the same instant she turned sharply. A man froze in front of her with a punch bowl filled to the brim with some odd, ruby concoction held over his head. Lydia swept his leg, he fell backwards. Then the punch bowl started falling. Abellio caught it just before it crashed into her head. The masked troublemaker slammed onto his back, the impact stunning him. Giving Lydia precious seconds to do what she was going to do. The man moved to sit up. Her heel dug into his throat.

Perhaps the most upsetting part of it all wasn't her sudden choice of violence, but the fact that she was smiling so sweetly while she ground her foot into that fucker's neck.

"Sweetie," she said softly without turning away from her unfortunate victim. "The punch bowl please." Her tone dripped saccharine, with exasperation in equal parts. Abellio didn't argue, merely placed the bowl into Lydia's waiting hand.

"Sir," she said, chiding the man as she moved her foot to dig into his sternum. "It's been years." Lydia brought the bowl in front of her chest, slowly tilting it forward and emptying the contents onto the man's face. And once it was empty, she dropped to her knees. One foot against the floor for stability, the opposite knee digging into his chest. It was difficult to think of modesty in such a position, but right now? Fuck it. "And you're not going to fuck this up for me."

She hit him across the face with the bowl. Once. Twice. Until she lost count. Until that crystal bowl shattered in her hands, against his skull. She switched to her hands then, blow after blow thundering down until she felt better. And once she had, she rose back to her feet. She smoothed out her dress and adjusted her shawl.

"I think our host needs some pest control. Shall we help clean up the mess before we get outta here?"

[Abellio 0]

Lysette was...

Frightening. Terrifying. And absolutely fucking hot.

Watching her take the man to task was an experience that immediately took its place as one of the greatest pleasures of his life. It was made all the sweeter knowing that her temper flared almost entirely out of hunger. It was a strange feeling, to be wanted like that. To the point where the delicate flower would bare her thorns. Abellio couldn't blame her for it. He was of the same mind. But she could take solace in the knowledge that there was little that could possibly happen that would "fuck this up for her." As she rose back to her full height, Abellio clocked movement off in the distance. He stepped forward, scooping her into his arms. Without missing a beat, he spun her around, placing himself in her previous position. A wine glass glanced off his head, shooting off in a wild direction and shattering against the wall.

But, really, he didn't care. Abellio didn't even register it beyond his head tilting to the side from the impact.

"They really out here throwing shit," he observed. "My God. It would be a mercy if we dealt with it before they grab Oscar's attention." He wondered why Oscar had let the pest problem get so out of hand. He craned his head up, to the balcony. Abellio had to stifle a laugh as he witnessed the scene unfolding above them. "That explains it. He's got company."

But he didn't really want to talk about Oscar right now. He loved the guy but no.

"You did say you wanted to dance. Does this count?" Abellio picked up an empty shot glass from a nearby table. He tested its weight, tossing it up lightly into the air before ripping it across the room towards the guy who'd hit him. Direct hit, right in the face. Glass shattered, victim bowled over backwards. Abellio let out a heavy sigh.

"Either way, I'm gonna need you to save some of that for me," he said, his tone scolding as he looked down to lock eyes with her. "Because you are so incredibly hot right now and I really just want to fuck your shit up as soon as possible."

Abellio smirked and stepped back two paces. As he did, he held his arm off to the side. In the next instant, another pest ran smack dab into his outstretched arm. He fell backwards onto his ass, only to quickly get a taste of Abellio's boot. Knocked prone, he couldn't do much as Abellio's foot swung in a wide arc, tip of his boot colliding sharply with his family jewels. And as he writhed from the sensation, Abellio stepped forward again. Arms coiling around Lysette, bright smile on his face.

"I'm not feeling real merciful tonight, so I'd really just prefer we let the big dog handle it."

[Vitalis 1]

Black parchment fluttered down from on high, drifting through the air like ash. A dark cloud that dissipated, each individual part of the whole beholden to the whims of the winds. They felt to earth, one by one, scattered about the ground. Stuck in the trees and upon rooftops.

Vitalis had a favorite spot. A small clearing in the forest of Floor One. A big oak tree standing tall and proud next to a small pond of crystal waters. Settlements were off limits, but that was fine. He had everything he needed here. And Vitalis rested. Arms folded behind his head, his back leaning against the trunk of that proud oak. Cradled by its roots, his bed softened by a layer of moss. Without opening his eyes, his hands shot up. Snatching a scrap of parchment from the air between two fingers. He brought it towards his center, emerald eyes fluttering open to read the text scrawled over the invite.

He let out a huff, looking skyward. Then he looked at the pond and the invitations floating like lilypads over the surface. Wordlessly, he rose to his feet and crossed over to the pond. One-by-one, he plucked the invitations from the waters and balled them up in his opposite hand. No sense in leaving his sanctuary littered with trash.

Besides, he would be rather busy this evening.

—

The invitation bade him to seek Ascalon. 

Whoever that was. The name rang a bell, but he couldn’t quite place it. He had met a lot of people. But when he arrived at the Orange Player entrance, it all suddenly clicked into place. 

“Yo,” Vitalis said with a wave. “Been a minute.”

Ascalon nodded curtly. “It has indeed. Didn’t think you’d show. You stay so busy.”

Vitalis shrugged. “I guess. But someone really pulled out all the stops to throw a good party. Might as well see what it’s all about. You ever deal with that guy you were talking about?”

Ascalon shook his head, exhaling forcefully. “Nah, I’m working for him. Long story.”

Vitalis raised one eyebrow. He had questions, but Ascalon was never one to get into the meat of things. “So he’d be the host then?”

His acquaintance nodded, opening the door and gesturing inside. “Yeah. Pick up a mask on your way in.”

With a nod, Vitalis stepped inside. There was some flavor text hanging in midair above the masks. He didn’t really pay them any attention. He chose the black one and placed it on his face as he wandered down the tunnel.
<<Sinner’s Mask>> equipped.

The tunnel opened up into the foyer of the Blackbook. Already the party was in full-swing. Party crashers included. Through their behavior, of course. Behaving as children in such a place struck him as absolutely shameful. But he paid it no mind. He cared little and less about how people chose to spend their free time. Making his way over to the bar, he leaned against it and patiently waited. It was a busy affair. He wound up waiting for a while.

“What can I get you?”

Vitalis thought for a moment. “Can you do a spiked chocolate shake?”

The bartender nodded. “Spiked with what?”

“Rum, please.”

Without skipping a beat, the bartender turned on his heels and got to work. Once he’d finally gotten attention, it didn’t take long for Vitalis to have his drink. It looked sublime. Chocolate syrup garnished the tall glass. The beverage was topped with whipped cream, a cherry, and what looked to be cinnamon. The bartender slid the glass over to Vitalis.

“What do I owe you?”

“Everything’s free tonight.”

Vitalis shook his head. Bartenders lived and died off tips. And the drink looked so good that he wanted to show his appreciation. “No. What do I owe you?”

“Call it five hundred,” the bartender replied.

Vitalis nodded, picked up his drink, and slid the Col across the bar. Leaning against it, he smiled softly as he looked down at the drink he held between both of his hands. If it tasted as good as it looked, he was in for a treat. He looked over the dance floor, head tilting from side to side as he watched the dancers enjoy themselves. His eyes settled upon one in particular. He found her a bit more interesting than the rest of the party-goers. If by “interesting,” one meant “unsettled.”

She was quite enchanting. Purple down, visage veiled by her sainted mask. From across the way, for a brief moment, their eyes met. Vitalis forgot all about the milkshake melting between his fingers. He was at a loss of what to do. Pulled in two different directions. The desire to cut in equal to the desire to make himself as small as possible and hide for the rest of the evening. Perhaps this had been a mistake. His grove sounded very appealing right now. But so did showing this stranger his slice of heaven.

Vitalis was rather violently brought back to reality. Two drunken party-goers had lost control of their fight. One slammed into him rather roughly and Vitalis was brought back into the moment. His drink slipped from his fingers, falling to the floor and shattering as the two combatants took their brawl elsewhere. Vitalis looked down, more disappointed than angry. “My milkshake…” 

Behind him, he heard a voice - the bartender. “Hey are you oka- Oh no. Would you like another?”

“Yes please,” he said mournfully.

@Plum

[Alinta 0]

Alinta laughed, shaking her head -then, her smile fell. Slightly. This…was all sweet on the surface. Fun and games.. But… there was a sense of ephemeral melancholy…knowing this would all soon end once the final song had struck its final chord. “My obsession…your favourite kind one moment - but the next…” A hand traced his jaw, delicate, lingering. “Your honeyed words will become venom as you look upon my compulsion to you with animosity.” Spoken from experience.

Still…the way his fingers trailed up her spine, the tingling remnants of the warmth they left against her bare back. How his hand, warm and calloused gripped the back of his neck, possessive. Firm. He’d offer more words, he’d find this more than just a dance. “It can be.” She whispered. “If you’d like.”

 A lean forward, a press of her lips to the outer corner of his eyebrow, and in return he tilted his head, breath hot against her ear. The action caused the woman to gasp, a new sensation forming deep in the pit of her core. Hungry, craving. Her hands wound their way around his form, slow and deliberate as they explored his body, one snaking underneath his shirt. Nails dragging lightly against his skin

More teasing, spoken with a low commanding drawl and Alinta couldn’t help herself. She pressed her lips against his, hungry and passionate - it wasn’t like the others, cautious and teasing this held something far more primal. Hands dug into skin, fingers wove into his shirt, and the world around them drowned into a haze.

[Scar 0]

For a moment, Jack almost forgot how to breathe. The words "If you'd like" came out of her like an invitation, soft, trembling, but laced with a kind of challenge that lit something primal behind his eyes. It was dangerous. The kind of danger he couldn't look away from. He smiled gradually, knowingly, almost as if he himself was shaking under his veneer of confidence.

Then, she kissed him.

The contact ignited something deeper, something that felt like a spark dropped into dry tinder. Jack's fingers found their way to her waist, drawing her close to him and his thumb tracing deliberate circles against her bare skin. Her taste was sweet, like the strawberry she'd toyed with earlier, but the fire behind it was anything but innocent. She kissed with hunger. He answered with dominance.

Her nails bit into his skin, and the pain only fueled him more. The other hand moved to her jaw, fingers curling just enough to tilt her face upward, forcing her to meet his gaze. Lavender and linen clung to him, but she smelled of cirtus and vanilla, bright and intoxicating, a contrast he wanted to drown in.

Her lips were separating again, and he was whispering against them, voice being low and gravelly, "Don't tempt me."

The words came between breaths, swallowed between the heat of their kiss, half a warning, half a yearning. Yet his body betrayed him, as it was moving closer with his breath mixing with hers as he deepened the kiss. His fingers threaded through her hair, a firm, possessive grip that made it clear he wasn't about to let her go so far.

Every movement felt deliberate now. The teasing tilt of his mouth against hers. The steady pressure of his hand trailing from her waist to the small of her back. His heartbeat thundered against her palm where it rested on his chest, the rhythm wild and uneven.

It was not meant to be like this. Just a dance. Just a fleeting night. However, as she was dissolving in his arms, Jack found himself losing his usual composure. It wasn't merely desire, it was a pull. A force of nature that drew him closer until the idea of space between them felt unbearable.

He broke the kiss only long enough to rest his forehead against hers, both of them breathing hard, the faintest ghost of a grin curving his lips. "You have no idea what you're doing to me, Saintess," he whispered, his tone dark, reverent, and dripping with heat. "You think obsession runs one way?"

His thumb went over her bottom lip, a very faint touch of his nail producing a tingling feeling along the way. "I could lose myself in you," he murmured, the words almost more to himself than to her.

For a moment, he just watched her, eyes drinking her in, memorizing the flush in her cheeks, the way her breath caught, the way her pulse fluttered at the base of her throat.

And yet.. underneath all the heat, a hint of discipline lingered in his gaze. That slight, taunting dominance which caused him to withdraw just enough to let her chase the distance he created. A slow smirk followed, his voice being a hoarse whisper, "Careful, Alinta. Keep touching me like that, and I might forget this is just a dance."

Nevertheless, as he uttered those words, his lips brushed against hers again, lightly this time, a ghost of a promise.

* * *

WC: 578

[Cascade 0]

The press of bodies blurred into rhythm; the blackbooks music fell away until only breath filled the space between them. Cascades pulse hammered against Simmones, a duet that didn't need melody. Somewhere along the line Simmone had found a way to let go of her hand, the thought soured mood, hand finding her waist pulling them ever closer. The moment was nothing short of heat and passion, a burning need that begged to be met. Cascades hands started to wander, tracing every curve slowly, deliberately, making sure Simmone felt every touch. 

When she had teased the woman, she hadn't thought it would land her this deep, so quickly, but here they were, intertwined, hungry, seeking. She opened her eyes, bright, gorgeous purple eyes sought her own, never parting. She was daring, a trap laid carefully, one that held promise if she played along. She smiled against her lips, wrapping the other arm around her neck, deepening the contact, lips parting, seeking warmth. 

It wasn't time to think about what the others were doing, where Ascension was, when she would eat or drink next, no, she thought only of the burning desire within her being. And the one who seemed so happy to oblige. In time, if Ascension showed, he'd find her, she shivered at the thought. Of him seeing this side of her. She knew he wouldn't be angry, he wasn't that sort of man. No, he would claim her, everyone here would know she was his by the end of the evening. The idea excited her. She wanted him to come, to witness what she was, how she could be when desire struck above all else. She wanted to know what he would do, how her new friend would deal with the interruption. Until then, if the time came, she would happily play with the pretty black cat that had sunk its claws into her. 

 

@Simmone

Edited 8 hours ago by Cascade

[Luke Pendragon 0]

Luke got up out of bed at the sound of a knock at his door. He yawned and staggered over – he hadn’t gotten drunk last night but he felt especially groggy. He’d travelled back to the area not too long ago and while he was technically well rested he was ill adjusted to a more peaceful lifestyle. A month of constant adventuring and battling had made it hard to get a good night’s sleep. Now that he was finally back, the quiet was unnerving.

He was hopeful for some kind of adventure or quest to go on. Usually when people sought him out it was to get him to do some kind of job. He was half expecting to see an information broker standing outside his door. When he opened it, all he saw was an old man. At his feet… was that a note?

Luke read it over and his eyes narrowed. “Is this some kind of joke?” he asked, “it’s a bad one.”

But it wasn’t. It was some invitation to some ball. Next thing he knew he was dressed up in a fancy looking tuxedo with a mask on and he was dancing around like some kind of idiot. 

WC: 202


Level: 5

[Oscar 0]

#

[Arsine 0]

Soft metal chimed as Arsine tilted her head, noticing another approach the bar. Far enough away from her where Arsine had to push herself off the bar and approach the man. He was tall, lithe, and held a sort of calm yet commanding air about him. Or…perhaps he just didn’t want to deal with people. Arsine noticed the look of disgust that flashed across his emerald eyes when he glanced at the roughians that were causing a mess. The woman patiently waited for him to order his drink - arguing with the bartender over how much to be tipped. The woman didn’t think of that. Did NPCs like that sort of thing?

“Milkshake?” Arsine asked. Calm voice piqued, curious. It was an odd request, but who was she to judge someone based on their preferences? “Is it good?”

His gaze seemed to be focused elsewhere. Arsine followed it, a woman dressed in shades of purple, and lilac and lavender shifted with an eerie ease across the dancefloor. A shame, if the both of them are taken.

Quietly, gracefully, Arsine took a seat beside the stranger.  She didn’t intrude on his space. Arsine was many things, but she was not a cuckold. A deep inhale and a sigh fell from pursed lips. Should she say something to him? She opened her mouth, but her soft words were lost beneath the shattering  of glass, and the splatter of chocolate milk all up the side of her leg.

The woman was speechless for a moment, then - she couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh My! I have heard of someone taking your breath away….but….” A shake of her head as the bartender passed her a few napkins, and Arsine began to pat them against her leg, doing the best to clean herself up.

“You should just talk to her.”

As much Arsine wanted to keep his company, to ask about the scents of the forest, and of herbs - to see such a glimmering gaze focused on her, she’d not interfere. Try not to interfere.