Ninth House | Official RP Thread

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?

8 Likes

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}

⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆

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

7 Likes

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

devon Lacey (2)

✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁All I ever wanted was the world :sparkling_heart:▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩

Devon’s cheeks flush with a blend of pleasure and excitement at the man’s compliments. She smiles coyly, surrendering herself to the pleasant feeling of butterflies in her stomach. A sense of mystery and allure filled the air, paired with soft music and the earthy scent of roses. The two lock eyes as Devon’s smile grows wider and she offers her hand to the mysterious gentleman. The man’s words seemed to weave a spell over Devon, drawing her further into the enchantment of the masquerade ball. With one last sip of champagne, the crisp, fruity flavors dance on her tongue. Finally, she sets the glass down, turning her attention to him once again, her voice soft and sweet, “You’ve got a way with words, and you’re awfully kind, I’d love to dance with you”.

✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁ :sparkling_heart:▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩

As they glided through the crowd of swirling colors and masked faces, Devon felt a tinge of curiosity. In an attempt to get to know him better and possibly figure out his identity, she asks, “So, you from around here? What’d bring you back for another year?”. Her eyes sparkled from beneath the mask, her feet moving in accordance with the dance, hand in hand with the man who captivated her attention. Earlier on, Devon had the notion that the ball would be relatively mundane, the only things really interesting to her being fashion and liquor. Being here with him was an unexpected change in events, but it was indeed well worth it. Previous suitors lacked charisma and humor, they were plain, boring even. But now, it was like he’d spoken directly to her, possessing a similar charming flair.

@Tina.G - Oggy

6 Likes

enzo|597px;x209px;

careful what you wish for

Finally, when he lifted her chin, she seemed to take in the view he had been intending to show her the whole time, and the mischievous glint in her eyes seemed to dim, her pupils expanding like a wishing well as the stars poured into them. It sobered Vinnie just a bit, wondering what it might be that perplexed her, yet he did not ask, for he sensed that a question like that would be too personal for a face he did not know.

When he looked at the sky above, Vincenzo often thought of possibilities. Coming from a quite hard past, there was not too much to reminisce on, so he preferred to ignore the past. Instead, he lived in futurity, assigning outcomes to different choices, and wondering what his destiny might be.

It inspired him… to thrive within hypothetical realities. But the stars, often-thought emblems for destiny, only seemed to follow one path, leading to their demise when they burnt out. He wondered if he would be like them. He wondered if she thought of it too.

But instead of asking, he decided it would have been a bit too intimate to ponder their emotions further, swallowing the words he was gonna say with a small gulp.

She laughed at him, and he was almost offended at first, but then she explained, and Enzo chuckled. Although his words were not half-hearted, and did hold sincerity as he thought she was very physically attractive, he understood how they could be perceived as shallow, because he did not know her soul.

“Hard to impress, I see.” Vincenzo shook his head, a bit challenged by her proud demeanor. But that wasn’t going to deter from his confidence. She was still, like she said, just one of the many that he tried to enamor. They would never be anything, nor did he expect them to, but he wondered if perhaps they had been before.

Being a guy who, proved by her suspicions, slept around a decent amount, he had to admit that he had a decent set of past partners, many of them currently in the other room, all clad in masks concealing their identities. She too, did not ever seem to falter in her prowess, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was because she had practice. Surely, she must have, looking the way she did. But if they both seemed like those kinds of people, how had they never crossed paths?

The mystery woman wrapped her arms around his neck, and he smirked. For a drunk girl, it was hard to resist her. He liked the way she seemed to speak messily, and move messily, like at any moment she could fall back into his arms.

“You’re on nickname basis to me, but I haven’t heard you call me any name yet.” he said, encouraging her to think of something, some way to remember him.

Vincenzo gave her a chance to save herself, but she refuted. As she spoke into his lips, he felt a bit guilty smelling the twinge of alcohol on her breath. He could not help but feel like he was at an advantage, because although he drank, too, he was used to it. And he doubted a girl like her would have that in common with him. Yet, that ethic code failed to question him. His desire for her was stronger. “Just what I like to hear.”

Without missing a beat, she continued their banter, teasing his arrogance, causing him to laugh, and then asking questions by playing dumb, trying to get him to explain. But to him, it wasn’t so simple, so he decided against it.

“Why would I explain it, when I can show you?” He flirted back.

They finally kissed, and he expected her to reel in more, but what he got instead was much better. She stepped back, and after the chains of her dress had dropped, the black cloth did too, hitting the floor.

She kicked it to the side, and he finally saw her. For the first, and only time, he stared at her body in awe. He was right about her being flawless. Beneath her mask, she had her curves undulated seamlessly. And still standing on her high heels, he noticed her smooth skin, the tender appearance of her thighs. Above them, her breasts looked supple, and warm. If he saw her turn around, he could already picture exactly what he was going to see. But between her legs, he saw the best part. Her pussy looked soft, and warm. He wondered what it felt like inside of it. He needed to know.

In her face, she seemed oblivious to how much power she held in that simple look she gave him, but she knew. That must have been why she looked at him that way, waiting for him to run to her.

Her hand pushed his chest, causing a soft thud as he landed back on the mattress, and she swinged her legs over his body to straddle him. Already naked, he admired her figure from down below for a second, then she nuzzled into his neck. She trailed kisses over him, swirling her tongue over his ear. Much like she hinted at before, only sweeter.

Curiously, he pulled her closer to him, and slid his fingers down to her pussy, rolling his fingertips on her wetness, testing whether or not she was ready. It felt glossed already, but he decided she needed a bit more help, and slid two fingers inside her. Thrusting them on the spongy part of her spot, he slid his thumb slowly up to find the nub of her clit, putting down a bit of pressure to get in just the right place.

She unzipped his pants, revealing the bulge through his boxers. She dragged down the two fabrics together, and his d^ck lifted up and back a bit when she brought it out, and he looked down at it at the same time as she. He was so hard, and his tip glistened with precum.
He looked up at her, and through the masks, they made eye contact. He gave her a timid smile, and felt a feeling all too familiar. He had to have seen those hazel eyes before.

The girl curled her hand around the shaft, stroking from the root to the tip, and he moaned softly, enthralled by the sensation of her fingertips.
She tugged on the chains of his shirt, playing with it coyly like she wanted to take them off.
He shook his head against her hair when she asked to remove it. It was a bit complicated to get off for the first time, so he did it for her, leaning up a bit from the bed to pull off the shirt after.
She hauled his boxers off, then, and they were finally both bare.

He lifted his hands, cupping her face as her disheveled hair covered some of her features. He pushed it aside and began to kiss her, their lips crashing at a fast pace, and his tongue pushed down on hers with kind possession, massaging hers again and again. Subconsciously, he began rolling his hips on her body, and for brief seconds, he felt their bottoms kiss.

“Tell me what to do, please,” The girl spoke frailly, begging, and he kissed her once more, taking a breath when he answered. Into her.

“Dance with me.” He said, referring back to the ballroom, with the sides of his mouth curling on lips, and then he bit her bottom lip, signaling her to turn around.

He lifted her up, and rushed her to her place on the bed before he placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her down into an arched position.
Her ass pointed up at him, and her spine rolled down like a valley.

He picked up his condom from beside him, feeling up the round shape of her cheek with the other hand. Then, he ripped the wrapper with his teeth, pulling it out and beginning to slide it down his length.

But, as he looked down at her, he took note of something he hadn’t otherwise thought to notice.
It was a tattoo. Not a picture, not a phrase, but one single name.
Monet.

Vincenzo drew back for a second, and the condom rolled down to the root.

But he was not distraught, nor beginning to reconsider his actions. Instead, he looked down at the slip in front of him, and he bit his lip, entering a whole new world. The surface of the pools in his eyes seemed to freeze, losing their pigment and glinting a much whiter hue. The color of steel.
And suddenly, he realized he had been swimming.
But there was no way out anymore. He was completely submerged.

He grabbed her hips harshly and thrusted down into her belly. He pulsed into and out of her, feeling her pussy envelop him completely, and how he hit the depths of her walls. Every hit brought him closer to the edge, a drop of sweat dripping from his temples. Vincenzo grunted lowly inside her, but even then, he struggled to manage. Nearing the climax, he breathed heavily, and moaned. Beneath his body, too, Amani whimpered, overtaken by something between pain and pleasure, and he mustered a few words.

“Come with me, baby.” He huffed, strengthening his grip on her ass trying to keep composure.

“One,” He counted.
“Two,”
“Three.”

Simultaneously, cum cascaded out from his tip, and her legs convulsed when they finished. The bottom of the condom filled with semen, and she lifted her head weakly, looking messy from her face pushing into her pillow. They separated a bit, and his part slipped out, her pussy releasing it and then closing back to normal when she turned to face him. She seemed like she considered drawing back away from him, but before she could, he drew closer to her, gently pulling the corner of her mask back into place.

“I wouldn’t want to ruin the anonymity.” He whispered again, and chuckled.
God, she would kill him if she found out about this.

@Kristi Amani

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✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ • ✧∭✧∰✧∭✧

IMG_3126

✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ Cause Space was just a Word Made Up ✧∭✧∰✧∭✧

Agastya’s hand rest lightly on the lady’s waist, each hand in hand as they swirled through the ethereal welcoming ball. They’re mask kept the anonymity still, but the girl with midnight black hair and a dress that curved her body perfectly in a deep pink kept Agastya’s mind from anything but them. “So, you from around here? What’d bring you back for another year?”

Agastya chuckled softly, a wry smile playing on his lips as he considered her question. “I suppose you could say I’m back here to challenge myself,” he replied, his voice smooth and melodious. “To prove to myself that I have what it takes to truly master the craft of writing, to delve deeper into the mysteries of language and storytelling.” But deep down, Agastya knew there was more to it than that. He had returned to Ninth House not just to prove his skills as a writer, but to unravel the tangled threads of his own existence. To seek out the elusive purpose that seemed to flee him at every turn.

As a poet and wordsmith, Agastya had always been drawn to the power of language that shaped reality, to weave words that could change hearts and minds. He saw writing not just as a means of self-expression, but as a gateway to a deeper understanding of the world around him. “What might you be doing back, Miss Vixen?” Agastya’s voice like silk, tilting his head in the soft light, a halo illusion atop his head.

✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ • ✧∭✧∰✧∭✧

@Mouschi • Devon Dearest • if you look up vixen he means the first definition :sob::heart:

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<><><> September 1st, 2023 <><><>

<><> Masquerade Ball <><>

Raven’s eyes scanned the room ahead of her as she walked into the grand ballroom of Ninth House. While she may not be the most social of individuals, one should not mistake her introverted nature for a lack of confidence. She looked about the room as though she were better than it all. While she knew the ballroom was filled with her peers, they would not be considered the same forever.

The quiet observance of the room came to a sudden halt as a girl came up to her, cheerfully saying how she liked Raven’s dress. The girl, who exuded a childlike demeanor, grinned and introduced herself. It only seemed fitting that her dress was designed to mimic the scales of a fish, likely to be reminiscent of a mermaid or siren. Likely the prior, more innocent and idyllic of the two, despite the greater power of the later. Though elegant, and eye catching, even her dress couldn’t change the demeanor of the wearer.

“Thank you.” she answered in response to her compliment, though not returning the same. “Raven. I assume you’re new?” she questioned, knowing she had not met a Desdemona in her prior years at the school, and knowing that those at the school who held such a pure light in their eyes were few and far between.


@raviola - Desdemona

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Copy of Copy of Silas (1)

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They were up in a room her mother liked to call her little observatory. It was a large room that existed inside the house, the whole purpose of the room was for viewing the stars, and the planets. Amani remembers it quite, she was no older than 9, and she could not sleep. She had gone downstairs for some hot chocolate to hopefully help her sleep, but her mother sat there drinking some coffee as she walked on some files on her macbook. She had been startled upon seeing the young Amani there, and Amani had simply told her she could not sleep and she was here for some hot chocolate. Her mother had made it for her and then instead of letting Amani go back to her room, she had taken her to the little observatory.

For how much she called it little, it was a very large room with paintings of stars adorned everywhere- there were many telescopes in the room and Amani’s mother had her staring into one. Looking at the planets and stars, she had asked Amani to identify the planets she saw- and Amani did but her being young and lacking interest in stars could not identify all the constellations she had saw that her mother asked about. Because Amani could not name the constellations, her mother had went on a long and Amani would have you know it was a very long lesson about the constellations that Amani was not paying attention too. She pretended she was, her face filled with smiles and her eyes bright but nothing that her mother told her truly went through. Instead Amani thought of something more… how does she put this? Passionate She imagined having a little family friend of her’s flying in the sky, going to close to the sun just like Icarus had! And burning, their skin turning into ashes and their scream loud- it would be a good punishment for what they had done to Amani.

“You were born right here, in this room,” her mother said with a wistful smile, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. Turning Amani’s attention to her, as Amani quirked her brows, cocking her head all so innocently.

“What do you mean mama?” Amani asked, her hazel eyes staring widely at her mother’s brown one’s.

Her mother chuckled, embracing Amani in her arms and kissed her forehead. Her mother was always so lovely and kind, She was so sweet-quite possible the sweetest woman on earth Amani had concluded when she was 5. “Your father and I-” She began, staring wishfully at the paintings of the stars, “We both wanted your birth to be magical, something extraordinary. So when the time came for baby Amani to leave mommy’s pouch, we didn’t rush to the hospital. Instead, I gave birth to you right here, in this very room, surrounded by the stars.” Well, that was definitely a story her mother never told her. “We were under the spell of a shooting star,” her mother continued, her gaze drifting to the night sky. “Me and your dad both made a wish for you, my little star, as you took your first breath. i wished that you would have all the peace the world had to offer and your dad wished that you will have it all, the world and the little stars and everything you desired It was a magical and unforgettable night.” That was how she named Amani, she was told. Amani was peace in swahilli- a testament to her mother’s wish, and wishes in Arabic, a testament to her father’s big wish.

She had realized she was staring at the stars too long when the masked man began to speak, she had turned to him, her face filled with amusement as she began to laugh. His words were quite sweet, and if Amani was a fool and a romantic fool at that, she would have smiled and sighed wishfully at his words. Her mother was a romantic fo- her mother was a romantic at heart and that was exactly what she would have done, she was easy to fool like that but Amani was not her mother.

"i’ve been told that impressing me is like teaching a cat to salsa dance – challenging, stressful, and ultimately, the cat’s probably going to walk away disappointed , because it never learnt to dance. " She responded with a sly smirk, arching her brows, hazel pools that rested inside her eyes reflected a mixture of amusement and challenge. As if challenging him to try, to prove a different Amani knew he was never going to be able to prove, but it would be fun for her to watch.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, teasingly, knowing she was bringing their lips close to each other but their lips shall not actually kiss, at least not now. Leaning into his ear, she had whispered a question, are we on nickname bases? she had asked, pulling away from his ear and staring into his electric eyes. He had asked for a nickname, and how Amani loved to give nicknames. Her eyes had lit up with amusement as she stared into his eyes, trying to think of names to give him.

She had come up with a few, they were not the nicest she would admit, but when had Amani ever been the nicest? She had fish eyes, the american eagle, Chrome dome and… Well she won’t say the rest, because they were unimportant, no? And none would be good to moan too. It had to be something simple and that could fit him, “Eto,” She decided on, it was short for the word star in french and this masked man, well he seemed to be obsessed with stars, it was only fitting or she could have called him, “Altair, Aster, Eos or Eto, which one do you prefer?” She had asked but it was not like she was going to take it into consideration, his preference that is. She had already set her mind on eto for the day, it was short and sweet and did not say much. For someone who did not know french or at least the word for star in french, they would not know that Eto was étoile, and because they did not know that, the name- the meaning was therefore a secret just like his identity. "So Eto, do you like to dance salsa? She asked, referring to the previous talk of the cat and salsa. She was asking him if he wanted to take a risk, to play with her for the night

She unwrapped her arms from his neck when he asked her how many drinks she had. It was one, one simple drink, but she had not said so, instead she had played unto the anonymity of the night, telling him she had enough. Enough for fun and enough to remember herself. He seemed to like that, because after all that was what he had said, ‘just what i like to hear’

He had said something again, about how he wished to help her make her own ‘song’ and how he was just the man for the job. This of course had made Amani to tease him, to poke fun of his arrogance and ask him just what job he was referring to, playing the fool.

“Why would I explain it, when I can show you?” He flirted back. She raised a brow at that “Ok, then, show me,” And before she knew it, his lips crashed unto her. It was soft, the taste of alcohol lingering on his lips, adding to the intensity.

But of course that was not the only thing bound to be intense this night, for Amani had pushed him unto the bed, her body bare and quivering, as if begging to be touched. Eto’s eyes raked her body, obviously enthralled by what he saw and she leaned in, giving him a feel of her body as she straddled him, climbing onto him. Her fingers groped her own breast as she leaned in to kiss him all over his face. She grabbed his hands, placing it on her chest as she planted soft kisses on his neck, making a circle with her tongue along the neck. “Touch me,” Her voice was frail, it was weak, it was so unlike Amani in her normal habitat, but this was not her normal habitat for this was either heaven or hell and Amani was ok with it being both. Especially when he had slipped his fingers inside her, causing her to stare at the ceiling for a bit as she got used to having something playing inside her.

“I want to feel you all over, I love your touch.” she whispered into his ear, her hands moving to undo his trousers and boxers. His dck poking her legs, she arched her back, pressing her breasts into his clothed chest, as her fingers curled around his shift, stroking it from the root to the tip, feeling the small feel of pre cum on her fingers as her lips pressed against his. She unwrapped her hands from her shaft, bringing her fingers to her face as she inserted two fingers into her mouth, the two fingers filled with the most c^m. It was warm and salty, reminded her of pool water and she found her fingers going to his dck again, pressing the tip. “Taste… you taste so good.” she moaned, her fingers going to the chains of his shirt. She wanted it out now, she wanted to feel his chest on her’s. She wanted to remove it but he had said no, removing it himself and as he did so. Amani was quick to attack his chest, planting kisses everywhere on his chest. She sat up so she sat on his legs as her tongue licked from his stomach up to his chest area.

When they were both fully exposed, he had cupped her face and leaned in to kiss her. It was not a soft or gentle kiss, no, it was a very very intense one and Amani was loving it. His tongue had pushed down on her’s and she let him take the lead, her tongue moving in harmony with his, she found herself pulling away from the kiss as he began rolling his hips on her body, a moan escaping her lips .

Her hands moved up to his chest, again, begging, asking to be told what to do. Dance with me he said and dance did she do.

She turned around as he instructed with his body movement, her body following his every instruction as she awaited for what was to come. He took quite the time, as if he was staring at something and Amani wondered whether he was just staring at her @ss, admiring the view or some shxt like that, but before she could ask, she felt her body being pulled down to a thick hard substance, causing her to let out a gasp. He was inside her and Amani had definitely not been prepared for that. She had yelped at that, feeling quite uncomfortable with presence of him so deep inside her, without giving her time to prepare.@ss-” She whimpered, 'hole," She finished, as his pace quickened and Amani body gradually became use to the presence of the unknown inside of her.

it was magnetic, electrifying and she was loving every moment of it. He was going deep, very deep into her and Amani felt herself moaning both in pain and pleasure as she bit her lips to keep her from screaming loudly. He began to talk, nearing his climax, his grip on her @ss. She listened to his countdown, counting with him in her head and when it struck three, Amani felt something like a waterfall falling from her; milky white liquid. She bit her lips, staring into the ceiling as she closed her lgs together, feeling it leak, her hands moving to play with her nipples a bit. When all had come out, Amani sighed, preparing to slip out the bed, but befor she could, Eto drew her closr, gently pulling the corner of her mask back into place.

“I wouldn’t want to ruin the anonymity.” He whispered again, and chuckled.

“Well, the night’s over. Goodbye, Eto.” She whispered to him, prepared to dress herself up and leave again, only to be stopped again, causing her to raise a brow.


@raviola

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