Ninth House | Official RP Thread

Hayes New

{ ball / with Freya }

‧˚₊┈┈ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ⋆˖⁺˖⋆ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ┈┈┈‧₊˚⊹

The arrival of Hayes might not have been something most students expected. As Hayes was a student who was supposed to graduate and leave Ninth House last year. However, things did not turn out as planned and he found himself back in the same place. What no one knows is that this was his decision, no one made him do it; he had some work left unfinished and this place was all he needed. Usually one would let his family in on what is going on in their life, or at least if we look at Hayes, he’d let Lenore in but the girl was as clueless as the rest of them.

The tall figure, seemingly indifferent to the setting, moved through the corridors with an air of quiet contemplation. His eyes, sharp and observant, scanned the surroundings as if he were looking for something. For any hint that he was not imagining things and others knew what he knew. But deep down he knew they were all just excited to be back.

With the smoke of his cigarette following him, skipping the usual greetings and festivities, Hayes went straight to the bedroom he abruptly left last academic year. Everything was still where he left it - bed unmade, a bunch of books open on the floor and that same bed. Parchments just spread around, some thankfully dried from the spilled ink. In the quiet of his room, Hayes turned his attention to the collection of plants that adorned his windowsill. The once vibrant greenery had withered, their leaves drooped, a testament to the neglect they endured. Unfortunately, some of his plants have died but he was sure he stored everything they had to offer somewhere in many of his drawers. With a subtle gesture, he beckoned the ambient light into his grasp, gathering the power of his photokinetic resonance. Now Hayes was good at many things, but this… This has always been a weakness of his. Soft rays of golden light emanated from his fingertips, strong enough to bring some life back into the plants.


As the ballroom doors beckoned, Hayes hesitated for a moment, caught between the familiarity of the past and the anticipation of a new beginning. A good new beginning that will hopefully end everything. With a steady breath, dressed in a simple tailored suit, Hayes crossed the threshold into the transformed ballroom. Despite the buzz, he felt a sense of comfort shrouded in anonymity, a sentiment amplified by the mask that was hiding his features. His goal for the night was simple - stay hidden in the shadows and just observe. Do not draw any attention to yourself. So that’s what Hayes did for the moment, he lingered in the shadows, an observer of the lively event. He allowed his gaze to wander, taking note of the diverse characters that graced the ballroom. From elegant masks to rich costumes, Ninth House’s student body enjoyed the ball. Oh how naive they were…

As he strolled along the edges of the ballroom, he noticed a lonely figure seated at a secluded corner, seemingly detached from the festivites. For a moment it reminded him of himself. Because of that girl, sat with a quiet demeanor and her gaze fixed on some distant point, a curiosity sparked within Hayes as he watched her, detecting a certain disinterest that set her apart. Hayes was never the one to approach anyone but tonight was different, his goal this year was different, and hiding under that mask she might not even know who he was. His steps were measured and with a subtle grace he reached her side. The rhythmic music and laughter created a backdrop as he spoke, his voice calm.

”You seem a bit out of place,“ he noted, his hands casually resting in his pockets. Was this maybe a good opportunity to start his plans? To gather students who would trust him and follow him?* ”Is this not your scene?“ He continued, finding the courage to speak knowing under the mask he could be anyone. ”Quite… Unnecessary if you ask me.“

‧˚₊┈┈ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ⋆˖⁺˖⋆ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ┈┈┈‧₊˚⊹

* Dumbledore’s army but make it anti Dumbledore’s army. Dumbledore in this scenario being Adrian
@/novella - Freya

10 Likes

Renlin

Oh my deer, how lovely, Aurora exclaimed as Renlin approached her. A mischievous smirk played on his lips as he responded, calling me lovely?" He found a playful challenge in her words, a banter born from the quirk that was the peculiar association with deer, a trait he had grown used to despite its initial strangeness, especially given her last name.

Renlin and Aurora shared a peculiar dynamic, straddling the line between friendship and something less definable. It was a connection that defied conventional labels, residing in the space between friends and acquaintances, where familiarity mingled with an air of unpredictability.

Aurora, beyond her association with Renlin, was also his sister’s friend. In a twist of fate or perhaps by design, Renlin’s sister happened to be best friends with the headmaster’s daughter.

In the enchanting realm of their college, it appeared that everyone’s relationships were interconnected. Within its hallowed halls, the threads of fate wove together, creating a blanket that bound the community together in ways both seen and unseen.

Reflecting on his relationships within the school, Renlin found solace in the mostly positive nature of his connections. Renlin cherished his friends dearly. Renlin’s loyalty extended to Umbra, and his commitment to the members of this society knew no bounds. As his thoughts about this continued he found that his affections were not evenly distributed. Certain members held a more profound place in his heart.

“This night is perfect, can’t you tell?” she asked him, and Renlin couldn’t help but agree. The vibrant energy, the pulsating rhythm, the lively dance of the masquerade embodied everything he loved – the loud, the movement, the life, the party, the sheer joy of revelry. It was the essence he sought in all things. Renlin, caught in the enchantment of the night, grinned and replied, “H^ll yeah! This is the kind of chaos I live for!”

“So many wrong impressions tonight, I see. What makes you think I’m hiding anything? Are you just trying to make me take this off so you see me better? Do you really miss me that much?

Renlin laughed, the sound blending seamlessly with the rhythm of the music. “Well, can you blame me? With a mask that stunning, who wouldn’t want to uncover the mysteries beneath?” He winked, matching her playful tone as he gently nudged her shoulder in return. Renlin savored the sensation of her touch, finding a sense of connection and warmth in the gentle pressure of her hand on his shoulder. But hey, I’m not one to pry, so if you’re not keeping any secrets, I suppose I’ll just have to bask in the mystery that is you,

@astxrism

8 Likes

Copy of Black Minimal Motivation Quote LinkedIn Banner (1)

Summer proved to be a fulfilling time for Inessa, as she reveled in the comforts of her home and the dedicated spaces where she pursued her various practices. Inessa wholeheartedly embraced her passions and daily rituals. Seizing the opportunity presented by Renlin’s increased distractions during the summer, Inessa immersed herself in experimentation and cultivation. With the space to herself, she embraced the chance to explore the vast potential of her botanical haven.

The greenhouse became not just a space for nurturing plants but a canvas for Inessa’s curiosity and botanical creativity. The summer became a transformative journey as she ventured into uncharted territory, embracing newfound curiosities and honing skills she hadn’t anticipated.

In the moments when the greenhouse lay dormant, Inessa found herself lost in enchanting melodies that echoed through the secluded spaces around the island. Along a tranquil path, a vintage piano, thanks to her mother, stood as a silent companion to the whispering leaves and rustling trees.
Here, in this enchanting setting, Inessa’s skills flourished with the vibrant blooms she nurtured. The old piano was weathered but sat under a gazebo that was hidden within vines.The woods became a sanctuary where her skills unfurled like petals. She was really starting to find her true self she felt.

Returning to school, Inessa carried with her a radiant glow, a testament to the sun-kissed days spent in the embrace of summer. As Inessa returned to the familiar corridors of school, her skin retained the echoes of a summer well-lived. Her affection for academic pursuits and a genuine love for learning fueled her passion for the educational journey. She thrived on the challenges that each subject presented, and the thrill of mastering new concepts propelled her forward.

Her fondness for school wasn’t merely confined to a love for learning; it was intertwined with a competitive spirit that had become widely recognized.The pursuit of excellence was not just a personal goal; it was a part of her identity that she wore proudly. n the pursuit of her academic goals, she recognized the value of surrounding herself with like-minded peers.

Inessa strolled back to her room from her brother’s place, wearing a wry grin on her lips that hid the emotions churning within. Despite any underlying frustration with her brother, she made a conscious choice not to let it show. Understanding the importance of maintaining a composed demeanor, she opted for a mask of cheerfulness.

Inessa recognized that displaying anger or annoyance publicly wasn’t productive, and she preferred to navigate interpersonal dynamics with a level-headed approach. The smile she wore acted as a shield, shielding her true emotions from the prying eyes of others.

The annoyance simmered, fueled by her brother’s actions. However, as she retreated to her room, she recognized the complexity of familial relationships. Understanding that her brother’s actions might stem from what she deemed as “dumb boy” behavior, Inessa chose to cut him some slack. It’s what you do for family – a blend of exasperation and unconditional love.

Alone in her room, Inessa let the artificial smile fade as she turned her attention to the mirror. Her fingers traced the contours of her cheekbones, a subconscious release of tension. With deliberate movements, Inessa’s hands wove through her hair, arranging it with care.

As she readied herself, Inessa sought solace in the ritual of preparation. Each stroke of the brush, every adjustment to her attire, was a step toward reclaiming composure. Inessa’s chosen dress perfectly complemented both her physical attributes and her personality. A two-piece ensemble, it exuded elegance with a touch of subtle allure. The long-sleeved top, slightly off her shoulders, delicately framed her collarbones. The skirt started just at her belly button, revealing a toned stomach that spoke of her dedication to wellness.

The intricate pattern on the dress resembled winding vines, lending a botanical charm to the ensemble. The coordinated design seamlessly flowed from the top to the elegant skirt, creating a harmonious visual narrative. The mask, an extension of the dress, enhancing the overall allure of her appearance.

Upon entering the ball, Inessa’s eyes quickly scanned the lively gathering until they landed on her friend Thalia. A surge of happiness and excitement animated her features, and without hesitation, Inessa made her way through the crowd. Spotting Thalia, she approached with a beaming smile and, unable to contain her enthusiasm, gently grabbed her friend’s wrist.

“Thalia!” Inessa exclaimed, the joy evident in her voice. “I have missed you! I can’t wait to catch up and share everything!” Thalia’s sweet and pure soul radiated an authenticity that Inessa cherished deeply.

Inessa couldn’t help but suppress a subtle smirk as she glanced at Thalia’s mask, perhaps the flower a touch too large for her delicate features. With a feigned innocence, she remarked, “Thalia, your mask is quite the statement piece, isn’t it? It’s almost as if it’s trying to outshine the entire ballroom tonight.” The words carried a hint of playfulness, a concealed jest that only a close friend might detect, adding a touch of lighthearted banter to the otherwise enchanting atmosphere.
@Kristi

8 Likes

imageedit_7_4060629179

[༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ]

Thalia’s eyes bore the weight of a restless night, a silent testimony to the tumultuous journey through the realm of dreams. The moonlight had cast its silvery glow upon her room, tracing delicate patterns on the walls as Thalia tossed and turned, ensnared in the clutches of a sleep that eluded her. She woke up with a sigh, her curly hair disheveled- it would take a long time to brush and Thalia wondered if she should even brush it at all.

There was no point in doing so, and sure it was a formal ball, but it was also a masked ball. In a room filled with people, Thalia had never been the first a person will notice, that was because she had always stuck to the shadows, always making herself invisible as she watched others. In a room filled with masked people, Thalia was obviously not going to go noticed, especially when she planned to wear a mask that made it hard to tell it was her.

She stood up from her bed, although quite reluctantly, and made her way to the bathroom. The clothes she wore, removed themselves from her body as she found herself in the very hot shower, that felt like liquid fire against her skin. The scalding water cascaded down her body, attempting to wash away the remnants of a sleepless night. Thalia closed her eyes and let the sensation envelop her, the searing heat serving as a stark contrast to the cold tendrils of unrest that had lingered in her dreams.

With a mindful twist of the faucet, she turned the dial to the colder side, seeking a respite from the intensity of the heat. The water transitioned from scorching hot to slightly cool, never too cool because Thalia had a dislike for warm water. It felt strange to bathe or shower in warm water, same with cold water, Thalia never got how people could so easily shower with cold water. One of her twins sisters(technically triplet sisters might have been the proper word?) Calista had always loved to shower cold, something that Thalia never understood.

There were a lot of things that Thalia did not understand, like why had Miles North disappeared? Or more like why was he targeted . Recently, there seemed to be a lot of disappearances in the school, people seemed to go missing one by one and it sent an unsettling feeling in Thalia’s stomach. Having her second guessing herself for being in this school. She should have never been here in the first place and she knew it, after all it was through… that she has been accepted here. But she had come here with a purpose, to solve something or more like to find someone. She had been told that what she desired was in this school, in fact more than what she desired was here and she did not truly understand what was meant by the more, though she had a guess that it was to prove herself, prove that she could belong in a place and that she was not so different.

She clutched the pendant wrapped around her neck- yes, she was in a shower with a pendant, she never took it off for reasons, but she was especially not going to take it off anytime in this school, especially with how strange it seemed to get with each passing day. Miles North, just what had happened to you?

She stepped out of the shower, brushing her teeth and she mused. She was not friends with Miles North in any shape or form- they had a total of 2 conversations together? But from that she could tell that he was not the type to just go off on his own like that, or maybe she was just making wild speculations, which she doubts. Sure, her mind might be wired weird as her sisters tended to describe, but still she could tell it was not a mild speculation. She finished dressing herself, wearing a silk golden dress she had stolen from Calista wardrobe just before she set off to Ninth house. The dress was not something she would usually wear, it was too tight fitting, and to low on the chest- that was not to say that Thalia was a modest dresser, no, it was just that the dress was quite beautiful and attention bringing and for Thalia who tended to love the shadows, it was an unusual dressing style for her but that was why she picked it.

With the mask she wore, one her mother had given to her, she did not look like the usual Thalia, perhaps the only way to tell it was truly her was from the hair and pendant she refused to remove, but other than that it kept away people she did not want to speak with yet, from approaching her with the knowledge that this was Thalia.


Last night, Thalia had called Desdemona, a friend of her’s she had met over the summer, who at first Thalia had been quite suspicious that she needed to talk to her.
When Desdemona had come, Thalia had not said a single word to her, instead opted towards hugging her, because Thalia knew that just being around Desdemona tended to calm down her emotions in a weird way. When Desdemona had asked her what was wrong, Thalia had just smiled and told her nerves, but it was of course much much more than that. Standing in this crowded ball, right now, Thalia’s wondered if she should take her camera from inside her bag and take a picture of the scene.

It was quite beautiful and she was not really paying attention to what headmaster was saying, that was of course until she had heard the words, Miles North. The hairs on her body seemed to come up, and an uncomfortable expression crossed her face.

“Our community is bound by shared experiences, and the sudden absence of Miles North is deeply felt by all. We extend our prayers and support to his family and remain steadfast in our commitment to finding answers.”

Then why are they not doing that, finding answers? Instead they had arranged a ball, where everyone was hiding, where everyone with secrets had even more secrets. It seemed so fake, none of them truly cared for Miles North or where he had gone. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, as if…this was not something quite serious. She sighed, there was nothing she could do right now, all she could do really was enjoy herself. Thalia had always liked parties, unlike what it might seem, they were fun and they calmed her nerves because she never had to think, just enjoy the moment.

Thalia loved not thinking, she loved enjoying the moment and if not for the disappearance of Miles North that would have been an easy thing to do. She took her camera out from her purse and took a picture of someone that reminded her of Miles North but she knew was not Miles North. The hair was too light brown for that, North had darker than that. She sighed as she looked at the picture, deleting it. She placed the camera back in her bag and was about to head out to get a drink, when she blinked and a hand found its way on her wrist.

“Thalia!” Inessa had exclaimed, “I have missed you! I can’t wait to catch up and share everything!” She went on, Thalia simply blinked but then shook her head with a quick smile, processing what had just happened. A wide smile crossed her features, as she found herself wrapping her arms around Inessa, “Inessa!” She greeted with a wider smile. Inessa had been her close friend since Thalia came to the school, but Thalia had known Inessa longer than she had been in Ninth house. They were in high school together after all, and Inessa was a friend of both her sisters.

Inessa’s embrace was warm and familiar, a comforting reminder of the bonds they shared. Thalia, couldn’t help but feel a genuine warmth in Inessa’s presence, despite everything and despite Thalia’s personal feelings… “It’s been far too long!” Thalia agreed, holding Inessa at arm’s length to get a good look at her. She wore a mask, a green net masks that did nothing to conceal who Inessa was, it was obvious from looking at her that Inessa was Well Inessa. "Wow, i definitely would not know who you were if you didn’t come up to me. " Thalia teased playfully, poking fun at how very non concealing Inessa’s mask was, “Definitely put the mask in masquerade ball.” She teased even more.

But as Thalia had her jokes, Inessa did too have her own jokes as she stared at Thalia’s masks, as she remarked that Thalia’s mask was trying to outshine the entire ballroom tonight. Thalia pouted and stuck out her tongue, “Meanie,” She said playfully, “I was going for a romeo and juliet but peacock core look,” She commented, or at least that was what she was going for during a high school party when her mother first gave her that mask.

Thinking about her mother, made Thalia think of a lot of things, like the reason she was here and how Miles North mother most feel, having her son disappear without a trace. Thalia shook her head, “You know, Inessa, I think our masks need a drink. What do you say we head to the bar and get something to wet their… feathers and nets?” Thalia said, a small smirk on her lips, “We can’t catch up if we’re thirsty, and God knows i’m thirsty.” And tired, and awfully tired, but then again no one told Thalia to go out last night. All she needed was a drink to wake her up and Inessa’s cherry persona to get her giddy.

Thalia and Inessa weaved through the lively crowd, the ambient chatter and music enveloping them as they approached the bar. The array of colorful drinks and the glinting glasses caught Thalia’s eye, momentarily distracting her from the weight of the night. She turned to Inessa as she asked, “Alcohol now or alcohol later?” Thalia said weighting her choice, she was not planning on drinking a lot today, but a sip could never hurt right. “And also your presentation was amazing, I forgot to tell you that.” Thalia added at the end. Truthfully, she had not been paying that much attention as her head drifted to the disappearance of people, but still, she had looked and Inessa had done amazingly as she always did. Inessa just had a way of wowwing the crowd and wowing Thalia it seemed.

[༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ]

Tagsss

@Madilnel - Inessa

mentioned

@raviola - des pookie

6 Likes

Dante


As Dante strolled into the opening masquerade ball at Ninth House, his eyes scanned the room, taking in the swirl of colorful masks and elegant attire. His long leather jacket swayed with each confident step, complementing the sleek black pants and shoes he wore. A black shirt with small white dots added a touch of flair and playful elegance to his ensemble, while an asymmetrical but smooth black mask concealed part of his face, adding an air of mystery to his presence amidst the festivities.

Amidst the crowd, he spotted a girl who could be no other than Celestine. She truly stood out with her extravagant hairstyle, she was in fact the epitome of grace and charm. Her presence radiated an aura of sophistication that seemed to draw everyone’s attention, even Dante’s. With a casual swagger, Dante made his way through the throng of students, his gaze lingering on Celestine as he approached her. “Well, well, if it isn’t the golden girl herself,” he remarked, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he reached her side. Despite his teasing, there was a genuine admiration in his tone, a recognition of Celestine’s undeniable allure and popularity.

“I see you’re dazzling the crowd once again with your golden aura. Must be tough being everyone’s favorite, huh?” His words were accompanied by a grin, and as he spoke, Dante maintained a relaxed posture, his easygoing manner contrasted with the formality of the event. His teasing remark were delivered with a lightness that suggests a hint of friendly rivalry between them, acknowledging Celeste’s status while also playfully challenging it.


@cordyx - Celestine

9 Likes

freya

⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ Vienna - Billy Joel ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆

Anticipation. Ambition. Apprehension. Freya Lorelei Hastings’ enrolment into Ninth House was a double-edged sword. In the forefront of her mind was that she was following the footsteps of her mother, and it was her chance to feel closer to her. Though plaguing her thoughts was that very reason among many putting immense pressure regarding her actions for the next few years in the institution. Freya knew she had to tread carefully, meticulously manoeuvring through the course of her academic years. Proceed with caution, she told herself.

What had unsettled Freya was the disappearance of a student. One thing about Wyndham College was that, try as she might, it appeared impossible to find information beyond surface level statements provided by administrations and the successes of previous alumni. It had left Freya feeling unsettled, ignorance to situations was not something she accepted comfortably. Considering her only link to the school gone, Freya had been left to wonder about what hidden truth’s had lay beneath the school’s facade. With the recent revelation of Miles North’s absence, it became clear that the layers were deeper than she had previously imagined.

All things considered, attending a Masquerade Ball was the last thing on her mind. Freya appreciated that it was an effective way to make connections with people, but relationships were not a priority for her. Other people could be unpredictable, and that wasn’t something she could plan for. But alas, there didn’t seem to be any alternative options, and suddenly she was stepping into the extravagance of the ball.

With a touch of optimism, Freya weaved her way through the crowd of people, attempts to smile at some people she encountered. She even waved back at someone and started to say “Hey, I like your—” Until realising they were talking to the person behind her. Nope. Who was she kidding here? None of this came naturally to her anymore. Thankful for her mask in that moment, Freya abruptly slipped out of sight and found herself slumped on one of the chairs in the corner, her interest disappearing as quickly as it has appeared.

At this point, the only option Freya appeared to have was to sit and wait for the ball to end. It seemed to be going well for a while, until someone joined her. She had to listen with more care as he spoke, as with the obstacle of masks, it was hard to decipher the true tones behind the words. “I don’t know where you got that from, this is a blast,” Freya told him, in a matter-of-fact tone as her eyes remained on the centre of the festivities. After a beat she broke her gaze, eventually letting her eyes land on him. “No. It’s not something I’m used to,” She then added, admittedly but still a vast understatement.

“Not your scene either?” Freya questioned, drawing attention to his comment about it being unnecessary. “Surely this is just a rare occurrence, right?” She then asked him, her eyes drifted elsewhere once again, his answer clueing her into whether he was a new student too.

⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆

@astxrism Hey Hayes

9 Likes

{ ball }

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·.

“What a sh^thole,” he mused silently, entering the lavish room. It glittered with ostentatious displays of gold and breathtaking embellishments, meticulously crafted to distract everyone from the sickening, hounded truth looming over the school.

The boy was missing… and they were partying in full swing, indulging themselves in alcohol that was smuggled in their underpants. But they were dressed beautifully, those w^nkers… parading like adorned marionettes, devoid of genuine empathy, which was replaced by burnt straw shavings inside them.

But so did Floriano… like all those people, he came here. And like all those people, he was dressed in his costume. What a hypocrite, he rebuked himself in his mind. Eventually, however, he inferred that he had it all shoved deep where the sun didn’t shine. He breathed quietly, feeling the malaise overwhelming his being. Ah, the cleansing power of having everything up one’s a^se. Sensational.

He was late. Not because he was planning to make a grand entrance in the style of the mysterious bumbler who considered his biggest dark secret to be that he once sucked his sister’s hamster up with a vacuum. He was late… because it just happened. He was too busy not looking at his watch. He had no intention of enduring the monotonous sermon of the headmaster. His presence, or lack thereof, would scarcely register amidst the sea of inflated egos that were supposed to be his ‘new schoolmates.’ After weighing the two options… to come or not to come… his choice was obvious, to say the least.

Thus, he turned up fashionably late after the bash had already started.

The room swirled with a kaleidoscope of opulence as a throng of extravagantly attired guests cascaded in akin to shimmering, slowly spreading lava. Floriano, amidst this sea of masks and masked intentions, tried to stay in the shadows. He was also wearing a mask, a necessity dictated by regulation rather than choice. It would be foolish to get into trouble over such a triviality - that was, not wearing a mask at all. Even so, his mask was unlike the customary Venetian style. The one under which he hid his features covered his entire face, not only his eyes and nose.

Floriano’s mask, an embodiment of discord, was split down the middle, one half as dark as midnight, the other gleaming like moonlit silver. The metallic side emitted a soft glow amidst the shimmering dance of light. Floriano scolded himself internally for choosing such a mask. Instead of shrouding his identity, his half-silver mask only attracted people’s attention to him.

It seemed as though the two halves engaged in a silent struggle, the silver’s luminosity attempting to mask the depths of the other side’s blackness.

Unfazed by his less-than-impeccable attire, Floriano’s focus remained elsewhere, but others could not turn a blind eye to the clear signs of neglect. His jacket was under-ironed, and his trousers, pooling at his feet, covered his once-shiny black shoes. With a haphazard tug, he adjusted his turtleneck, covering even more of his neck.

Finally, after making his way through the maze of dresses and suits, he found respite at a secluded table nestled in the shadows at the rear of the hall. He positioned himself strategically, angling his mask so that the silver side’s glow was concealed within the shadows, while the black side was exposed to confront the onslaught of light. It was a small win against the hall’s brightness, as the dark hue absorbed rather than reflected the intrusive beams.

As he settled into his seat, he allowed his body to relax, the vents of his suit jacket melding seamlessly with the back of the chair, draping the boy in a cloak of anonymity amidst the dazzling ball.

Despite being physically present, Floriano felt detached, a mere observer of the spectacle unfolding around him. It was as if he wasn’t really there, and only his corporeal form was now sitting at the table, sweeping its bored gaze over the tangible guests. However, his ethereal essence lingered elsewhere.

With a sigh, he shut his eyes, silently counting the hourly seconds, yearning for a merciful end to this pathetic farce. Each moment stretched agonizingly as he awaited a perfect opportunity to retreat to his sanctuary. There, accompanied by his skilled hand hidden in the abyss of the duvet, he would finally feel something for at least a brief, fleeting moment.

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·.

{ approachable }

look at this stuff

doesn’t it s^ck

wouldn’t you think my post’s complete?

wouldn’t you think I’m the girl

the girl who knows how to write?

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Lyra


Lyra stepped into the grand hall, her heart racing with anticipation and a touch of apprehension. This was the first moment she would be introduced to a group of people she would have to spend the rest of her time at Ninth House with. The lavish atmosphere of the masquerade ball dazzled her senses, a stark departure from the simplicity of her upbringing. It exuded an air of opulence, elegance, and a hint of darkness, contrasting sharply with Lyra’s modest upbringing surrounded by the brightness of nature.

She couldn’t shake the feeling of being alone in a sea of strangers. Despite knowing familiar faces who might be walking around - her good friend Esther, childhood friend Inessa, and cousin Ayla - she was all alone in this moment arriving at the ball. Her footsteps echoed softly against the polished wooden floors as she ventured further into the room, her eyes searching for a familiar face amidst the elaborate masks and swirling gowns.

As she scanned the crowd, she realized she didn’t recognize anyone. The masks obscured the identities of the guests, leaving her feeling adrift in a world of anonymity. Despite the lively atmosphere, a sense of isolation settled over her like a heavy cloak.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Lyra straightened her posture and summoned her courage. She reminded herself of the excitement that had initially drawn her to the school and the ball, the allure of mystery and magic that this evening would be the start off. With each step, she resolved to embrace the unknown and immerse herself in the enchantment of the masquerade, hopeful that amidst the masked strangers, she might find a connection or a glimpse of familiarity.


Approachable

Mentioned:
Esther | @Mouschi
Inessa | @Madilnel
Ayla | @Tina.G

8 Likes

celestine beaumont

i say a little prayer for you

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Curling the edges of her lashes, she looked hastily in the mirror as she finalizes the touch-ups, adding and wiping away the things she saw unladylike. Too red, too pink, too bright, too dark. It took her a godly amount of time until she decided on a look she was proud to say, ball worthy. It may just be a simple formal school event, but she was adamant in making an impression unlike who she was last year. She was even surprised, paging across every memory she had scanned and analyzed, this would be the first time she was actually going to wear a dress she picked for herself; a dress with no second opinion added, something just for her liking. If she was going to cherish a moment where she would be by herself, might as well look the part of a distinguished lady. As the record behind her plays a selection she commissioned to prepare for this event, she stood up from her dresser as she navigated from the mirror to see her gown.

A floor length gown, with colors as gilded as the glistening water by the sunset. The drapes that formed her gown moved as if she had grown wings, wings that flurried down to the floor as it shined beneath the chandelier beneath her head. Naturally, it wouldn’t be her if she hadn’t styled her hair so intricately: a row of barrel curls cascading down her head, adding neccessary volume for her taste. She had sensed that the crowd may be uninspired by their choices, preferring dark tones that matched their surroundings to the point of camouflage, the thought of their gowns curled her lips as she made sure to really be the belle of the ball in this day. With her last touch ups in her jewels, she grabbed her matching gloves and purse as she awaits her future down at the ball.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

{the ball}

The following courses of events took place, and as Celestine guessed, it was the usual awe inspiring entrance with some courteous greetings and a trip to where the drinks would be most frequented. Celestine never drinks to a point of splendid stupor, but her she revels in a place where the broodiest man could be loose with their tongue with just a lick of that forbidden nectar. Ringing in the brim of her cup, she had felt a certain hum above her head. She couldn’t make the person right in front of her, it seems that he knew her, but who wouldn’t be. Looking up and down in his clothing, she flinched inside of her mind as she thought of no clues that could help in identifying the person next to her, she thought nothing but his uninspired look that looked sloppy than intriguing. At least it isn’t a boring suit, she contemplated. Hearing his voice however gained some clues on who he is, she had a hunch, but she was rather wary first before making any unnecessary moves. As usual, she kept with her finest decorum as she subtly raised her head, "I assure you, I’m no golden girl. If I am one, I would be at Shady Pines.

As he added another comment to her, she finally recognized the man right in front of him. She was stunning, yes, but she wasn’t that amazing. Sensing the tone of his voice and the way he slouched, she snickered to him, "I see you don’t give up with the whole gold thing, is my message that loud? Besides, I do love how everyone is paying attention at me, Celestine pointed at the crowd, eyes looking in different directions to different targets, “So what brings you to my direction? Do i sparkle enough to make you go blind? Or a warning that my hair is 5 inches too tall for any practical viewing?” She lightly chuckled as she fanned herself, being slightly worried that this playfulness may come off as a bit too harsh on anyone. Looking down the reflection of her face, she looked back at him, "I… apologize, the drinks here seems to have been special for today’s event it seems. But, I assume you are having a gay ol’ time at this ball, am I right? "

━─━────༺༻────━─━

@Jass - Dante

8 Likes

Dominic Vaillant

[⋅𖥔⋅]═════⋅𖥔⋅═══ [ ] ═══⋅𖥔⋅═════[⋅𖥔⋅]

As a child, Dominic often searched through old family archives, spending hours learning of knowledge meant to be concealed. Back then, he’d gotten a small glimpse of the magic world hidden from society. Yet he never would’ve imagined just how big it really was, until he found himself standing before the gates of Ninth House. A prestigious academy, where magic users found belonging and an opportunity to thrive. Dominic couldn’t help but wonder how such an establishment could lay hidden in the mountainside, without any word of it outside their inner circle. Its gothic towers hidden beneath the mist resembled architecture that was centuries old. It felt almost as if he’d stepped into a realm frozen in time, furthering the disorienting feeling of entering a foreign world.

He found himself among the members of Umbra Coven, the group that Dante had mentioned when they first met. Dominic didn’t have a single clue what he’d meant back then, but he should’ve guessed he’d fall among their ranks. The shadows never seemed to be far behind him, trailing him even in a place that was meant to be a safe haven. It almost seemed he was destined to be overcome by the darkness that haunted him.

Regardless, what was done was done. He made his choice to enroll and there was certainly no turning back now. Dominic had received an invitation to a so-called masquerade party. He wasn’t a fan of celebrations, in fact he would’ve rather skipped it and took his valuable time to explore the enigmatic and captivating towers he was standing in. Yet he was more lost than ever, not only as a new student, but as someone quite unfamiliar with magic. He had no choice but to attend, as draining as it felt. If there was ever a chance to get acquaintaned with the institution, such a large event would be it.

Dressed in a rather unremarkable way, Dominic aimed to blend with the crowd as much as he could. He put on a simple black suit with the plainest mask he could find, finishing it off with only a coat. At least there was one bit of familiarity in this whole situation, and it was his tendency to hide in the shadows and observe. His presence didn’t need to be made known yet. If something were to go wrong, he could slip out unnoticed and return to his old way of life.

Unfortunately for him, shadows weren’t the only thing constantly tied to him. They went hand in hand with misfortune, and it proved itself true just as he’d stepped into the ballroom. A speech from the headmaster himself, which he’d assumed would be another generic welcome, turned out to be an ominous warning of what lied ahead of him. News about the disappearance of a student, rather “unexplained absence”, clearly hinting at some deeper secrets. Yet the ball went on as if nothing happened. A chill ran down Dominic’s spine at the realization that anyone in the crowd could’ve been involved. In fact, everyone could already be aware but staying silent out of fear. Or maybe, it was a regular occurence to the point nobody bothered. He scanned the crowd with caution, his eyes landing from guest to guest, all hidden beneath their costumes for the night. Their masked faces made it hard to uncover their intentions, any one of them could be a threat. Just what had he gotten himself into? Following a complete stranger’s advice to enroll in Ninth House was so unbelievably impulsive, he could barely understand what went through his mind that day. And Dante, the very reason he was in this situation, was nowhere to be found. Rather, he was another person hidden beneath those masks.

The rational part of his mind was telling him to leave and go back to his old life. But his curiosity, as pestering as always, urged him to get a glimpse into this unfamiliar realm. He grabbed a drink, non-alcoholic to keep his mind sharp and present. And with that, he sat at a table in the corner, far from the busiest spot, so he could watch without getting involved. As his eyes wandered through the crowd, Dominic listened to the muffled voices blending with the music. People were all the same, having shallow conversations in their attention-grabbing costumes, attending some extravagant ball that had no meaning. This was an academy for people like him, outcasts among society due to their special powers. A place he was meant to find belonging in, yet, he felt more like an outsider than ever. Dominic didn’t belong in either world, and it was made painfully obvious that night.

A mysterious woman caught his attention, with her sapphire blue dress that was simple, yet elegant. He was captivated by her presence, his curiosity growing about what kind of person hid underneath that mask. But as she turned around and met his eyes, that was when he realized he’d been staring for longer than he should’ve. Dominic looked down at his drink, avoiding her gaze.

[⋅𖥔⋅]═════⋅𖥔⋅═══ [ ] ═══⋅𖥔⋅═════[⋅𖥔⋅]

@Caticorn ⋅𖥔⋅ Lenore Ferrell


9 Likes

IMG_4893

{ball}

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As Elijah stepped through the grand double doors of the ballroom, a surge of excitement coursed through him. The air was filled with the melodic strains of music, and the room shimmered with the soft glow of chandeliers. Although all of this was new scenery to him, he knew it could be a fun place to be if he wanted it to be. After all, his family had moved to this place to… start over, meaning a fresh start for him, right?

However, he wondered whether or not he and his family had encountered another tragic town upon recalling the earlier-mentioned announcement regarding a missing student. Was that a normal occurrence here? Not your problem, Elijah; you’re simply here to have a good time.

He saw nothing but gloomy expressions as he moved deeper into the crowd—everyone appeared to be seated. Where in the world did I end up, dammit? Isn’t this meant to be a celebration?

All these depressing souls made him think of his brother Floriano. As soon as his brother entered his thoughts, he saw him by himself, seated at a table. As he expected him to be, Elijah couldn’t help but grin as he walked up behind his brother.

“Why am I not shocked that the lonely, grumpy old Floriano is sitting all by himself? You do realize that this is a party, dear brother?” He teased as he playfully nudged him on the shoulder. The two did not get along, not since… well, not that—that matters now. Regardless, that never stopped Elijah from teasing his twin brother; he couldn’t resist getting under his skin, especially in front of a crowd.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆

@sunflower.flow :face_with_hand_over_mouth:

8 Likes

devon Lacey (2)

✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝟑𝟏𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩

An endless sea of people congregate on the dancefloor, alcohol swirling through their veins and bass pumping through their chests. Devon sips on expensive whiskey at the bar, engaging in friendly chatter with a handsome, unfamiliar guy. It was a game she indulged in from time to time, talking to rich men and coaxing them into buying her drinks. Occasionally, she went home with them, but left well before sunrise, ghosting them. It was her form of fun, she could dress up, spend hours getting ready and once she arrived at the club all her drinks would be paid for. Tonight was no different, her little black dress garnered her spectators and of course, whiskey. As she found herself acquainted with this man, her plan moved along smoothly and soon he called for his driver, indicating that they’d be leaving soon. Devon brushed up next to him, a seductive gleam in her eyes, reaching for his hand. The man was practically wrapped around her finger, his eyes and the way he looked at her sold him out. Slowly, the night dwindles and they both leave in their drunken state, hands dancing over each other’s skin before even making it to the car.

✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝐬𝐭, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩

Gentle rays of sun peek through the blinds, falling upon Devon’s face. Her eyes open immediately, both her head and heart pounding from last night’s festivities. A wave of nausea rushes over her as she sits up frantically, causing her to clench her stomach. Quickly, she springs up from the bed, locating her clothes and running for the bathroom. There, she splashes her face with cold water and begins dressing herself before exiting the building. The streets bustle with typical urban life, and in no time, Devon books a cab back to her apartment.

Once home, she began preparing herself a bath, setting out her dress and lavish accessories, and obviously stopping to stare at herself in the mirror. The clock was ticking and the fear of being late for the speeches had set in. To distract herself, she played music and lit a candle as she carefully submerged into the tub filled with rose petals. She put eye masks on to try and mask her hungover state, and within the confines of the tub, she practiced meditations, helping her to feel renewed. As she felt herself drifting away into a slumber, she grabbed her towel and began to make her way out of the bathroom. Her sister, Daphne had sent her a dress, a dark pink gown that fit her figure like a glove. Devon felt the excitement brewing inside of her, all she needed was to do her hair and she’d be on her way.

The greetings and headmaster’s speech had her sitting restlessly in anticipation for the main event. The disappearance of Miles North was only sort of concerning and she couldn’t let the news put a hold to her fun. After all, the champagne flutes in the ballroom awaited her presence. Some time had passed and finally the ball was in full swing, which meant that it was time to get drunk once again. As the servers passed around, Devon skillfully took a glass from the tray with her gloved hand, careful as to not let it slip, her index finger wrapped around the tip of the flute with a distinguished charm. Her eyes scanned the room and she took a deep breath in, closing her eyes to savor the moment. With a single step back, she’d unknowingly stepped her heel into someone’s shoe. A man stood behind her, dressed with immaculate style, “Well first, I’ll have to apologize for stepping on your shoe”, she began, staring him down from head to toe. “Then, I’ll have to compliment you on that outfit”, she giggled. At first she didn’t recognize the man but upon studying his features, Devon felt a sense of familiarity. “I’ve met you before haven’t I? My brain must be fried from all this champagne”.

@Tina.G - Oggy (finally done lmao)

7 Likes

enzo|597px;x209px;

PARTYNEXTDOOR

Her voice was hypnotic, whispering like him, and he leaned his head a bit closer subconsciously, piqued by the sultry sound of her dialogue. Most often, he approached women unknowing of what their reaction to him might be. The sweet ones always seemed a bit startled, with a pink hue growing under their cheeks. However, this girl did not seem like a lady of delicate mind. She was bold, matching his energy in a way that was familiar. So much, yet he could not quite place it.

He wondered where he had perhaps met her before, and why they had not spoken sooner. Perhaps he had seen her around school, perhaps in one of his dreams, dressed in mauve lingerie on sunset clouds, but it was definitely somewhere.

Her identity was a secret from him, and he wondered how long things would remain that way, would they figure out who the other was? Or could he possibly take her mask down.

Then again, there was always that third option; to never know. Imagine the magnificence of that, to share a night with a total stranger, and never hear of them again. Never know when you did, at least. Because, every day, you would attend the same school together, walking through the same corridors, inches away, with no idea. The only thing that would exist in your mind was that sole picture, standing alone in your memory, of the mask of your lover. Their hair, their silhouette, their lips and the outlines of their eyes- but never their name. How beautiful would that be?

And the thought crossed Vincenzo’s mind as they spoke. Although he attempted to keep his composure at the ball, he was never a well-contained man, and he thought in grand sequences. They were not exclusively sounds in his mind, nor just pictures, but fragments of life, put together on the never-ending canvas that Vincenzo never seemed to stop expanding. And currently, he was picturing how she could become a part of the ensemble, how he could fit pictures of her features between forgotten pearls and stardust.

“As you wish” He smirked, following orders.

Vincenzo allowed her a bit of space, and begun to dance with her, their ticket into his memory. At a more reasonable distance, he was finally able to digest her visage, or, the pieces he had permission to see. Upon that first look, her eyes tantalized him. They were the shape of almonds, and the color of a hazy summer hill, but the way she looked at him- it did not correlate. She reminded him of a cat; quiet, yet sharp, and hopefully, not afraid to leave a few scratches where she touched. And a thousand times, he might have seen around school eyes just like them, but not like this.

They waltzed; back and forth, forth and back, as he led her to the edge of the dance floor, the meaning of his dialogue, until they seemed to escape the grasp of their reality, where their dance seemed to slow as the world sped up into a blur. “Close your eyes.” He told her, and then, he took the mystery girl through a seemingly small crevice in the grand wall, to where their bodies exited the ballroom, and the ceiling was replaced by a glass enclosure, emulating a taller shape than that of a dome. The crystals shone gold on their mosaic edges, and above that, the constellations gazed down at them from the distance, spread across the sky like a blanket was wrapped around the earth. And suddenly, no one else was in the room but them.

An oriel. That was where he had chosen to take her, at least for now. “Now open them.” He said, albeit a bit commandingly. That was due to his enthusiasm, feeling very particular about the serenity of the spectacle. But in the sight of the moonlight, it became noticeable how thin the material of his mask must have been, the paper-like texture showing in its under fold, staring at her above the checkers. He never did like to hide who he was. “Dance with me here.” Said Vincenzo, briefly looking up to signal to the scenery, yet still holding the soft pace, even though the music had lowered in volume from the distance. He spoke again as they continued, releasing the words when they came nearly chest to chest. “Is that what you want?”

He teased her with the question, knowing what must be her desires. Still, he decided to continue prompting her, curious to hear her speak again. And perhaps he also considered whispering once more, only to feel her lips graze his skin once more. “So, what was your reason for you dressing up today, hm? Was there someone to impress. Or do you just look like this all the time?” Vincenzo mused, hoping to enchant this woman in some permanent way, no matter how hard to please she seemed.

@Kristi Amani

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Copy of Copy of Silas (1)

౨ৎ

Hazel eyes scanned the face of the masked man standing in front of her. Perhaps, it was truly a monumentally stupid decision, indulging in the embrace of a stranger. No, there was no perhaps to it, no doubt about it, for it was an utterly foolish move, considering a lot of things and maybe she would come to regret or perhaps she would find herself extremely entertained. Fun, echoed in her head, for he-the masked man- could be anyone, and if she was not slightly inebriated, she might have placed the puzzles in the right place and figured out his identity. His voice was oddly familiar, had she heard it before? Meh

Amani crossed paths with countless faces, countless voices, most of them fading into the blur of irrelevant encounters, deliberately left in the fog of oblivion so more important things can be stored in her mind. After all, why bother turning the irrelevant into memories when they mean nothing? Or held any significant importance to her, Amani seldom bothered to remember the names of nightly companions, all she could remember was damn they were attractive and damn did they serve their purpose for the night. Helping her release tension, and try something new for the night and then be gone for the morning.

Now, turning back to to the mask man, beneath the disguise, she could suppose he sported an attractive facade- generous 8 if she was feeling magnanimous- complete with what some (not her, she never said her) might call a handsome jawline. His brown hair, though thinning, possessed a certain charm. But it was his eyes, that intrigued her the most, she was sure she had seen those set of eyes before. Were they just a run-of-the-mill blue? Perhaps, but still there was something unique about them in a way that had her memory flickering but she could not quite place the finger on it.

But aah, that was just his masked persona, Amani couldn’t help but wonder, with a twisted sense of amusement, what lay beneath that disguise. Would he still exude the same magnetism, or would reality shatter the illusion he crafted? The unknown tantalized her curiosity, and oddly enough, the uncertainty only fueled her intrigue further. There was a certain allure to not knowing who laid under the mask, it was hot to think that he could be anyone, look anyhow under that mask or perhaps it was the wine.

When she had said lead the way, he had responded with ‘as you wish’ and a stupid smirk on his face. making her eyes rake over his face again and playfully roll her eyes. They had danced, it was for a short time, and she did not know why or how she agreed to it, instead of going straight to the point, but she did, accepting the game. Thankfully, the ‘game’ was short live or so she had thought until he had told her to close her eyes. She gave him a deadpan look, would it kill them to end?? Her eyes flickered around the room, and with a sigh she complied- wine does that to a person.

She had opened her eyes for second, it was slightly but she had and then closed her eyes as she followed him, she could not help but to muse whether he was to kill her with all this close your eyes stuff. When they had finally reached a spot, he had told her to open her eyes and she complied. Her eyes panned the scene and she blinked unimpressed. Now what was the meaning of this? Hopefully this was not some romantic nonsense, she would have preferred that he was a killer other than him possible confessing his romantic heart and how so he could not have a fling without feelings or some blllsht she had heard from one of her former didn’t get to happen fling, because she had left as soon as those words left his lips.

“I’m so impressed.” It sounded genuine but it was sarcastic, “I have never before seen a grand reveal like this, a room with a view?” Her eyes scanned the room once more, she did not know what she was expecting from closing her eyes- technically, she wasn’t expecting much but she was also not expecting this. Though, she suppose she could admit to herself that the view was not all that bad, she had seen better oriels, but this one was an 9.

Hopefully he was not planning on dragging this little game longer, but it seemed he was, for he had told her to dance with him, asking him if that’s what she wanted.She took a couple steps towards him, her voice lowering as she whispered in his ear,
“Dance with you and then seek the company of another who can do the job right—well, I suppose that is my desire.” She teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “But if we’re to dance, wouldn’t it be more exhilarating to do so… bare?” She pulled away, playing with the collar of his shirt as if adjusting it, “I don’t know,” She said, “What would you suppose, do you agree?” Her eyes lingered at his eyes through the golden mask he wore, then to his nose and lips as she played with the collar. She came close, as if to kiss him , she coyly added “But I suppose, a dance clothed is just as good.” She pulled away, giving distance to them. She quirked her brow, “So? So where is the music?”

He had questioned what her reason for dressing up today, “Other the fact we had to dress up for the ball, I always look like this and I was hoping for someone to help me with something…” She trailed off, not saying more.


@raviola

6 Likes

enzo|597px;x209px;

kiss u right now

The mystery woman sounded impressed, but he could not help but notice her lack of animation. She barely looked up, she did not even take a moment to notice the stars, so why would she feign amazement? She pretended to be stunned looking at the wall, he supposed, but that was hardly the highlight of the room, so he questioned it with a side smile. “Seriously, you’ve never seen a room with a view?” He asked, then used the back of his fingers to raise her chin, and show her the stars. “You’ve hardly looked at the best part. Which is great,” Vinnie gestured with his hands as he spoke, “but my favorite thing about it…” and he made sure to look at her as he said this next part, “is the seclusion.”

Above them, the constellations sprawled across the sky, including his personal favorite, Orion, that he went to spectate often. He adored the stars, and he adored pretty girls, so why not combine his two passions? Yes, it was true; it was not the only time Vincenzo had brought a girl to one of his ‘secret spots,’ with this new masqueraded woman now added to the list. And could you blame him? After all, he just wanted to share his gifts.

“Do you not see the allure of the sky above us, darling? You can’t just look past the beauty of the stars, and there is no reason you should see the stunning display of this glass ceiling and feel nothing.” Vincenzo paused, considering how to articulate his next words with his head tilted downward.

They were no longer close enough for a whisper, as she took in the scenery, but she was still close enough for him to lower his voice just slightly, enough for her to know she must listen keenly. “When someone asks me to take them somewhere, I think first of what may remind me of them, and since I don’t know you, I can only judge by your appearance. And you, seem flawless in my eyes. From head to toe. So I brought you somewhere… something like that.” He looked up again, flashing a stolen glance at her, and then grinned.

Enzo watched her hands play with his collar, and he chuckled, not expecting such unprompted courage. He let her toy with it, and then watched as she drew back, enjoying her allure, but also remaining aware that she seemed to be in… a rather vulnerable state- as she spoke of the music playing from the ballroom, and the idea of taking her clothes off.

“…How many drinks have you finished tonight, Angel?” He pressed, giving her the opportunity to run now if she was going to regret this. One chance, a courtesy he had to give, for he was not all monster.

During the performances, Enzo had also had a few cocktails, but, as he was a larger man, they had only taken a tad bit of effect, at least by his own definition, because he could not cognate a handful of few things, such as the identity of the girl before him, but his head could still be held high, with his same insufferable disposition as always.

On a good night, or, sometimes for Vincenzo, a very bad night, he had to first surpass his own tolerance for the drinks to take effect. After drinking as a source of comfort for… several years, he was quite used to the flavor of the alcohol, the different kinds, the soothing burn of it. But beyond this, he knew the effect alcohol had on him emotionally, and the way it lowered his inhibitions, causing him to do stupid things that he regrets. And in lieu of his own experiences, he loosely knew better than to take advantage of the raw feelings of someone under influence, regardless of his otherwise poor sense of morality. However, this specific woman, blessed with the powers of intemperance, looked to him like a feast waiting to be devoured. So with a singular yes, all of that could vanish.

As he gave her time to contemplate his statement, he added to his answer. “And the music, although quiet, is still audible. But if you are unable to hear it, then I can help you make your own song, okay?” He spoke gently and implicitly as she agreed, as if to talk her through the action of taking her dress straps off her shoulders. But actually, her dress did not have straps. Instead, the golden chains connected in a cross on her chest, which he placed his hand on gently, playing with the golden emblem as he searched for it’s hook to release. And as soon as he reached it, he began to question. “What’s this?” Vinnie smirked. “Because I’m offended you think I don’t dance properly, but there is another job I can do for you.”

The girl continued, only feeding his curiousity. It was sweet, how she was so naturally confident. Of course she would say she was stunning always, he expected nothing less of the truth. Admiring her, he had no complaints to give. It was likely that she had a few critiques of him, because he always somehow liked to land in bed with the choosey types, but he didn’t care.

From his point of view, Vincenzo believed that anything could be an eyesore, but also simultaneously, anything could be beautiful. It was why he saw darkness in those things that others deemed ‘good,’ but also why he saw light in those things described before; the purple of bruises, the rawness of drunkards, intimate moments framed by camera tapes. If one day, this woman were to know his identity and hate him, because of his reputation, or more personal antecedents, he could always deem himself capable of finding some good in her. Even if it required taking her dress down so he could see it.

“Can I be the one to help you,” Vincenzo asked, leaning in again to whisper in her ear, his lips grazing her earlobe just as she had done to him, but then, he dragged his lips along a line, until the plump flesh of his lips met hers. “Because I think I know just what you need.”

He kissed her once, gently, teasing to make her come back for more and then clink. The gold on her chest separated, the open links falling down around her bust, and he had a sensation that he knew just what was about to happen next.

@Kristi Amani

6 Likes

✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ • ✧∭✧∰✧∭✧

IMG_3126

✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ 31st, August 2023 ✧∭✧∰✧∭✧

The sun had barely started to peek through the curtains when Agastya’s eyes flitted open, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. He reached down to where his prosthetic leg should have been charging overnight—because, even after all these years of course he’d forget—he was met with a cold and unresponsive metal. Swearing under his breath, he cursed himself for forgetting to plug it in before bed.

Dragging himself out of bed, Agastya made his way to the kitchen, the early morning light filtering through the ornate stained glass windows of his Gothic-inspired Airbnb. As he brewed himself a cup of strong black coffee, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding hanging over him like a dark cloud.

Sitting down at his desk, Agastya picked up his fountain pen and a leather-bound journal, the pages already filled with his elegant script from the day before. Poetry flowed effortlessly from his mind onto the paper, each word carefully chosen and full of emotion.

As the morning turned into afternoon, Agastya found himself lost in the world of his own creation, the worries of the day temporarily pushed to the back of his mind. But as the sun began to set, the dread began to creep back in.

College was starting up again soon, and while Agastya was excited to be back on campus and immersed in his studies, he couldn’t shake the nervousness that came with it. The certain campus hookups that had left him breathless and wanting more replayed in his mind, his great etiquette no match for the tangled web of emotions that came with them.

As he closed his journal for the day, Agastya couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease settle over him, the shadows of the room growing darker as night fell.

✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ 1st, September 2023 ✧∭✧∰✧∭✧

The mirror reflected back an image of a man clad in a white tuxedo top, with black pants that seemed to absorb all light around them.
As he fastened the intricate mask to his face, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of power and mystery coursing through his veins. The gold chains hanging down with pearls and jewels glistened in the dim light, a reflection of the tears that had been shed in past years. It matched his prosthetic leg, a testament to the battles he had fought and the obstacles he had overcome.

As he made his way to the grand ballroom, the world around him seemed to shift and warp, taking on a darker, more gothic tone. Lavish drapes hung from the ceiling, casting shadows that seemed to dance and swirl in the ethereal lighting that bathed the room in a haunting glow. The decorations that adorned the walls and tables evoked the spirit of the founders’ era, a time long past but never forgotten. Agastya felt a sense of reverence and awe as he entered the room, the weight of the history and tradition that surrounded him pressing down on his chest.


“Apology accepted, though I must say, your gown is far too stunning to be worried about a little shoe mishap,” Agastya replied, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He couldn’t even feel it. Literally. Her dark pink gown hugged her figure in a heavenly manner, and he couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her beauty.

As she mentioned their previous encounter, Agastya’s mind raced in an attempt to place her face. He had a feeling he had met her before, but the memory eluded him. “Well, if your brain is fried from champagne, then mine must be completely scrambled,” Agastya said with a chuckle, raising his glass of champagne in a salute.

“Well, if we have met before, it’s definitely a pleasure to see you again.” Agastya set his glass down on a passing waitress tray. “Care to dance and maybe jog my memory?” With a twinkle in his eye, Agastya extended his hand towards the lady, excited to spend the evening in her enchanting company.

✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ • ✧∭✧∰✧∭✧

@Mouschi • Deven • ORP ahhhhdbfkfn!! :sob::heart:

7 Likes

Aurora

{ ball / with Renlin }
‧˚₊•┈┈┈ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

How fast Aurora’s eyes rolled at Renlin’s words and actions should be in the book of records. For a girl who is friends with everyone Renlin sure had a way of making her just a little annoyed. Of course they can joke here and there but most of the time this is how she really felt. Or he simply had a way of… making her act as if she’s annoyed. Moving her hand from his shoulder she kept the smile on her face, continuing this silly banter. After all, this was not the place nor time to bicker with the guy. “Did you want to say the mask is stunning or me? I believe you mixed up a few words but Ren, dear, I’ve got nothing to hide.” But as fast as she moved her hand from his shoulder, she lifted it back up to fix his suit. “With this costume so stunning who wouldn’t want to do the same thing?” This time her eyes were gleaming with a mischievous light, only noticeable by someone who would really look at her and who previously experienced it. Despite the apparent annoyance there was a subtle warmth in everything she did.

With his last words, however, a flicker of vulnerability crossed her features. The smile she had fell, and for a brief moment, shadows cast themselves in the depths of her eyes. This only reminded her of her summer and everything that happened while she was away from home. It reminded her of the way her last academic year ended - does anyone not remember how Aurora was occasionally seen with Miles? Does anyone not care enough to ask if she was okay, considering someone she was close with had gone missing? She was still waiting for a text from him, for any sign that he was okay and somewhere out there and not… No, he got help. He was fine, he… Had to be fine.

And that’s what she thought she was going to say… A guy is missing and I’m not in the mood for your little games, but those were not the words that came out of her mouth. “Tell me, am I the first one you said that to or it just didn’t work on anyone else? What do you really want?” In that moment, Aurora’s eyes held an openness, an invitation for Renlin to reveal his intentions, to pierce through the layers of playful banter and glimpse the genuine motivations behind his words.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

@Madilnel

8 Likes

Hayes New

{ ball / with Freya }
mad world

‧˚₊┈┈ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ⋆˖⁺˖⋆ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ┈┈┈‧₊˚⊹

Not your scene either? Well, that would be an understatement.
Hayes would appear at these kinds of events simply out of obligation and a need to keep an eye on his sister. To everyone that ever crossed paths with him that would be rather obvious so her comment could either result in him thinking they simply never met before, she did not recognize who he was or she was new. In all honestly, Hayes hoped it wasn’t the last option; they surely did not need more students coming here but as much as he would like to say he didn’t understand why anyone would want to come here… he did. He was one of the most optimistic students with big wishes and ambitions, this place promising everything to him. Everything he never had but always wanted. One thing he learned is not to trust anything, when something seems too got to be true then it certainly is.

As the rhythmic melodies and laughter enveloped the grand ballroom, Hayes found himself momentarily lost in thought. His gaze wandered, almost absentmindedly, as he contemplated the complexities and relationships that unfolded at this place. His own relationships with people here. How much does one event change your whole perception of something? The lively energy of the masquerade persisted around him, but Hayes seemed detached, even forgetting he was talking to the girl.

With a subtle shake of his head, as if dispelling the thoughts that had carried him away, he focused on the scene unfolding in front of him. His gaze returned to her. ”Rare? I wish- rare?“ A comment she made caught his attention, anyone who spent at least one year here knows this is something that always happens so that could only mean she truly was new. There is no other reason she would ask that. His gaze just remained on the girl as if he was trying to uncover her reasons for being here. What brought her here now? ”You will get used to it,“ his voice barely a whisper. ”What happens is you waste your night and then tomorrow go to classes with a bunch of hangover students. I bet that’s exactly what you wanted to hear,“ Hayes’ eyes stayed fixed on Freya, observing her reaction. Breaking the momentary silence, he shifted his weight slightly, taking a step closer to Freya. ”What bring you here?“ Excue him for being a little straightforward, she did not know who he was after all and he was on a mission.

‧˚₊┈┈ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ⋆˖⁺˖⋆ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ┈┈┈‧₊˚⊹

@/novella

6 Likes

Copy of Copy of Silas (1)

౨ৎ

Upon opening her eyes, a blend of disappointment and unamusement etched across her face. She turned towards him, delivering a sarcastic comment that left no room for misunderstanding. He, evidently, caught the sarcasm, perhaps aided by her deliberate neglect of surveying the room. 'Seriously, you’ve never seen a room with a view?" 'he masked man inquired, a challenge in his tone. Amani, ready to respond, found a finger gently guiding her chin in another direction before she could utter a word. He gestured towards the stars, telling her how she hardly looked at them and Amani boredly looked at them. They were beautiful, she would suppose, really beautiful.

The constellations sprawled across the sky and it reminded Amani of her mother. Her mother had always loved the stars. Amani would suppose they were beautiful, but she could never muster the same enthusiasm her mother had for them. Her mother used to tell her stories about the constellations, weaving tales of ancient myths and celestial wonders. Amani would listen with half-hearted interest, playing the dutiful child through her expressions, but she was more absorbed in her own world of earthly matters. That was to say she was absorbed with anything else but the stars-she would rather be doing something more fun as a kid, like committing arson then acting like the innocent child she was or you know stuff.

The masked man’s voice brought her back to the present, his whispered words stirring a sense of anticipation. “When someone asks me to take them somewhere, I think first of what may remind me of them,” he confessed, his gaze locked onto her and with his next words she could not help but to laugh, her laughter ringing out in the quiet space of the oriel. “What do they say” She questioned, Turning to face him, as her eyes scanned his masked face “The others you bring here and tell this line,” She asked She asked walking up to him, a hand on his chest, her fingers tracing a subtle path across the fabric of his shirt. With her finger she climbed up with her fingers, a finger rubbing on his lips. “So, do they leave impressed, thinking you’re some mysterious romantic, or do they fall madly in love, convinced you’re the man of their dreams?” Her voice was low and husky, staring at his eyes, before she moved to the finger that still grazed on his lips. She dropped her finger and moved closer to the window, her back to him. “it’s beautiful.” She said staring at the scene, his words had reminded her of a certain someone, one she both missed and would rather not think about. This was the romantic nonsense she wanted no part of, after all she was technically-

She had turned back to him, and he had teased, asking if she wished to dance with him. She gazes up to him, and once again she finds herself walking towards him,hands on his collar, looking at his eyes. “How many drinks have you finished tonight, Angel?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. The usage of a nickname had not gone lost to her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, “So we are on nickname basis?” Then again they did not know each other’s names, and she believed it would be best if they didn’t, it was after all just one night. She brushed of his question of how many drinks she had with a small smirk, leaning close to him, their lips almost touching, “Enough, I had enough to make things interesting.” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, “But not enough to forget what I want and who I am.” And with that she pulled away, their lips brushing slightly but not enough to count for a kiss. And in truth, Amani had not drank much, a glass or two but not more than 2 because that was the golden rule for formal parties or parties in generals. Always watch your drink and never get drunk and she never did, especially in formal parties, that would just be a waste.

When he teased about helping her make her own song, his hands on her back, Amani chuckled. “You’re quite confident in your skills, aren’t you?” she quipped, her hazel eyes gleaming with amusement. The revelation of the dress’s fastening caught her slightly off guard, but she kept her composure “The job being?” she questioned, her lips curving into a sly smile. She knew exactly what he was alluding to, and what exactly she wanted.

As Vincenzo leaned in to whisper, his lips grazing her earlobe, Amani allowed herself to be drawn into the intimate exchange. The soft touch sent a shiver down her spine, and the anticipation of what was to come heightened the enigmatic allure of the moment.

“Can I be the one to help you,” Vincenzo whispered, his lips tracing a line until they met hers. Amani responded with a knowing smile, her eyes holding a glint of mischief. “Because I think I know just what you need.”

Their lips pressed together, the taste of alcohol lingering on his lips, adding a subtle intensity to the already charged atmosphere.

Amani took a step back, a subtle invitation for the dance to continue in the silent language they shared. The chains of her dress, now unfastened, created a soft jingle as she moved, an echo of the hidden allure that awaited beneath. Her bottom outfit had also fallen down, and she was bare now, bare except for her masks, which she had not touched as if to say the mask stays on and indeed the mask shall stay on, it was entertaining this way- the secrecy as if they were on opposite sides of a spy world or strictly business. They were close to each other now, standing face to face with each other but she was the only one bare and of course she could not have that.

She pushed him gently to the bed, as she got on top of him, leaning down to press her lips on his and then she found herself going down to his neck, planting kisses on it, her tongue swirled circles on his earlobe as her hands found the button of his trousers because this is good ol europe not america, tugging the zipper down. She tugs at the waist of his underwear, pulling it down with his pants as her hands roamed his clothed chests and then tentatively, she curled her hands around the masked man length and gave it an experiment stroke. It felt warm on her hands, warm andbig. Her hands still on his length, she continued her kisses along his neck, gently biting and sucking on the skin. She tugs on the chains around his shirt as one hand goes up there. She whispered in his here, “Your shirt,” She licks around his earlobe and neck, “Do you want me to remove it?” Her lips move down to his clothed chest, as her hands left his length and unto the buttons on his chest. “Tell me what to do, please,” She begs in a low voice, for this was the only time and place she was ever truly ready to beg. She nuzzles on his neck for a bit, her fingers still holding unto his button.


@raviola

6 Likes

Atlas Theodore Alstone

⊱—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⋅༻༺⋅—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⊰

Atlas’s lips curled into a smile gazing upon the scene — the warm glow from the chandeliers, the elegant velvet drapes, the crowds of people mingling in their masked attire. It was like a blur between fantasy and reality, past and present. He felt excitement coursing through his veins the moment the stepped in. He was surrounded by familiar faces, yet their masks concealed their identities to be almost unrecognizable. There was a certain intrigue which came with the unknown, getting to share a laugh and a drink with your closest friends as if they were strangers, and your enemies as well.

Out of all the events, Atlas favored the masquerade balls the most. Though, not only because it signified a new beginning. Slipping a mask on and concealing his identity, he could move among the crowd without a care. He could give up on perfection and let his actions come naturally, guided by what feels right rather than what’s expected. And not one person would get the same impression of him. He would slip into a different role with each conversation, playing with their expectations to his heart’s content. And at the end of the night, nobody would know who he really was, inside or outside. There was a thrill in keeping the anticipation high, letting his identity remain an enigma for the rest of eternity. That’s how he preferred it.

He let the music direct his movement, as he entered the ballroom with grace. The light danced along his deep blue suit, which he’d chosen for its resemblance to the night sky. Musical notes adorned his mask, its golden accents shimmering with the lighting. The elegant melody added to the enchanting atmosphere, freeing him of his concerns and making him feel as if he’s floating. Atlas closed his eyes briefly, focusing on how the instruments blended together in perfect harmony. But the more time passed, the more a bitter feeling began to settle in his stomach. His smile slowly faded as he glanced at the performers. If things were any different, he would’ve been among them, violin in hand and guiding the rhythm. But he’d become just another spectator of that grand performance. One meant to be seen by all the students, staff, faculty, everyone who’d step foot at the event.

Soon, he told himself. Soon he could return to his old life, soon he’d experience the euphoric feeling of being among the performers. But for now, he had to pass by them and continue on as if he wasn’t affected. Because he wasn’t, everything was okay. He took a drink from a tray, swirling it in his hand yet never bringing it close to his lips. He sighed, his thoughts drifting off.

The headmaster’s speech had reminded him how much he missed the university. Though the mention of an unexplained absence would raise alarm among new and old students alike, Atlas wasn’t one of them. He found it pointless to waste time worrying, Miles would return. It was tradition at that point, one that Atlas wasn’t in the mood to question. Another school year had begun, after all, and it was a new chance to aim for the top and prove himself. That was the goal, nothing could hold him back from it. His mind would no longer wander aimlessly as it did during the summer. As much as he loved its golden rays and the freedom to pursue his hobbies, he missed the thrill of academic expectations weighing on him. Exams, deadlines, constant new material to keep up with. There was always something to do, and as unhinged as he sounded, he enjoyed the pressure.

And he was back among his friends, acquaintances and strangers he was yet to befriend. Though he could barely tell the guests apart, he moved from person to person with a friendly smile. He’d exchanged words with so many people that he lost count. Playful banter, clinking glasses and shared dances, he continued to navigate the crowd with enthusiasm. Most of his conversations were brief, shallow, yet he wouldn’t have it any other way. Because if he let them stay in his presence for too long, they may start to piece things together. And where was the fun in that?

As he waved goodbye to a group he’d just met, his eyes scanned the crowd for someone new to get acquaintaned with. A captivating sight walked in front of his view. It was a woman whose deep blue dress caught his attention, its white sequins resembling stars on the night sky — a sight that was so familiar, and so dear to him as well. Hidden beneath her mask, she was unrecognizable, and there were no other hints to her identity. Atlas took a step forward, his smile warm as he approached her.

“Enjoying the ball so far?” he asked, his eyes trailing up to her mask. “I’ve attended a few times already, and I still can’t get enough of the scene. Might just be me though,” he added, taking a sip of his drink. Though a complete stranger, there was something familiar about her. Atlas couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, maybe she resembled someone he knew or just met, or maybe his intuition was wrong. But now he was left wondering who could be hiding behind that mask. With a mischievous grin, he glanced at her dress. “Were you trying to match with me? I’m honored,” he chuckled.

⊱—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⋅༻༺⋅—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⊰

@Mouschi Esther Ruth Dubois


6 Likes