Ninth House | Official RP Thread

[Kristi]

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

[idiot.exe]

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

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

[Mouschi]

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

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”.

✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁ ▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩

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

[raviola]

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

[Tina.G]

✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ • ✧∭✧∰✧∭✧

✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ 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

[Littlefeets]

<><><> 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

[Kristi]

౨ৎ

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

[sunflower.flow]

{ ball / with Elijah }

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·.

Despite Floriano’s best efforts to cover his features under the intricate facade of his black-and-silver mask, Elijah’s keen eyes pierced through the crowd, spotting the boy. Not surprisingly, for a bond as deep as blood rendered disguises futile. A brother always recognizes his brother, even amidst the swirling chaos of a masquerade.

Floriano raised his gaze reluctantly, making brief eye contact with his twin, the weight of their shared history hanging heavy in the air. Elijah, with his effortless charm and striking appearance, had always been the favoured son. At least, according to Floriano’s subjective judgement. In spite of that, Floriano never felt the need to cause any rivalry between them, accepting the unfairness of fate without resentment. But now, as the shadows of past grudges loomed large, a sinister desire clawed at Floriano’s heart - a yearning to sever the wings of his twin.

Floriano averted his disdainful gaze, deciding that out of the two evils, he preferred to look at the dance floor than the poster boy that he, unfortunately, had to call his brother. Yet, the bitterness that simmered beneath his stoic facade found voice in his words.

“Why am I not shocked that you’re parading around with that d^mn smirk?” he said emotionlessly, his voice cutting through the air like a razor-sharp blade. “Mother always said that if you kept smiling like that, your mouth would stay that way. And she was right. You look like an imbecile with that dumb smirk. It’s like your badge of idiocy, that you wear so proudly. But… I’d say that it actually reflects your vacuous personality perfectly.”

They had teased each other as children, as well. They exchanged playful jabs and wrestled with each other, but always in good fun. They were boys, and boys needed a catalyst for their pent-up energy. However, now it wasn’t a source of innocent, childhood amusement, but rather a grim reminder of the festering animosity that poisoned their bond. Their words formed into intangible weapons, now used on the battleground of simmering hatred.

Floriano had no intention of entertaining his brother, no desire to bury the hatchet that cleaved their fractured relationship. “What are you talking to me for?” he asked directly, spitting out the words like bullets from a rifle. They pierced the air with lethal precision. “If you have nothing of substance to offer, spare me this nonsense. I don’t feel like indulging your flumadiddles, Elijah.”

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·.

{ @sunflowerjm }

[Jass]

---

“Shady Pines? Sounds like a quaint retreat, but I think you’re better suited for the spotlight here, Celestine. After all, who needs retirement when you’ve got all eyes on you?” Dante’s tone was light, his words carrying a hint of an edge and playful banter. He gave her a small wink, his gesture subtle yet filled with charm, even if he wasn’t sure it was noticeable behind his mask.

“Ah, yes, you are the center of attention, as always,” his tone was almost teasing yet casual as he replied. “Your sparkle could blind a crown, but I think I’ll risk it for a chance at conversation, plus, it’s not like I came unprepared.” With a mischievous glint in his eye, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and theatrically pulled out a pair of sunglasses, raising them as if considering wearing them over his mask. “Can’t be too careful around all this glitter and glam, you know?” he quipped, before pocketing the sunglasses with a grin.

As she mentioned her towering hairstyle, Dante replied, “Well, I figured someone had to be the bearer of bad news,” Dante quipped, his tone light-hearted. “Wouldn’t want you bumping into door frames or startling any passing birds with that towering hairdo,” he added, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her mention of the drinks, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Ah, the magical beverages strike again, huh? No worries, I’m quite enjoying the spectacle,” Dante replied, his tone light-hearted. and with a nonchalant shrug, his tone reassuring. “As for the ball, well, let’s just say it’s not quite my place,” he added, his lips curling into a playful smirk. “But chatting with the ‘golden girl’? That certainly adds a memorable touch to the night.” his tone was teasing yet casual as he spoke, purposefully emphasising the use of golden girl once again.

“So, I’ve been thinking about exploring the gardens later. Care to join me for a stroll under the moonlight? Who knows what secrets we might uncover… although I highly doubt you’re the adventurous type,” He glanced at Celestine, his tone playful yet skeptical, as if he couldn’t quite believe she’d ever be up for something like that. No, she seemed way too proper for such meetings, so Dante’s intention behind this wasn’t to go on such a stroll with her, no, it was challenging her, teasing her, seeing what kind of person he had in front of him.

---

@cordyx - Celestine

[Madilnel]

nessa chuckled, appreciating Thalia’s good-natured teasing. I know, right? My mask’s practically a formality at this point," she quipped, her eyes s sparkling with amusement. True, simplicity has its perks. But hey, if you ever need me in the crowd, just look for the barely-there mask," she added with a playful wink.

As Inessa stood in the ballroom, a subtle seed of doubt sprouted in her mind regarding Thalia’s playful comment. She now started to second-guess the nature of the teasing exchange. Was Thalia’s remark merely friendly banter, or did it carry a hint of the same backhanded tone that Inessa had playfully employed earlier?

Inessa found herself grappling with the delicate task of interpreting Thalia’s comment. The joyous atmosphere now carried a subtle note of uncertainty.

Inessa’s tendency to get stuck in her own thoughts was not a stranger to her. The habit of overanalyzing comments, letting them sink in a little too deeply, was a familiar in her mind.

Inessa grappled with the echoes of Thalia’s comment,the enchantment of the ballroom was momentarily overshadowed by the patterns of her thoughts, as she strived to navigate the labyrinth of her own mind with the same grace she displayed on the outside for everyone to see.

As Thalia and Inessa weaved through the lively crowd, the ambient sounds of chatter and music creating a vibrant backdrop, they reached the bar. Thalia posed the question, “Alcohol now or alcohol later?” The choice between immediate indulgence and deferred enjoyment hung in the air, adding a touch of anticipation to the already lively atmosphere. Inessa, momentarily freed from the complexities of earlier contemplation, grinned and replied, “Now feels like the ideal moment to raise a glass in honor of being back at school,” she suggested, a twinkle of excitement in her eyes.

Inessa couldn’t shake the uneasiness that lingered beneath the surface of the masquerade’s festivities. The news of the missing student, a shadow cast over the night. Surprisingly, Inessa found herself not entirely surprised by the revelation. The realization weighed on her, and a part of her, though unspoken, hoped they could swiftly move past the unsettling news.

Inessa chose to keep this inner turmoil concealed, acknowledging the discomfort without giving it voice.
The unspoken weight of the missing student hung in the air, a collective awareness that intruded the masquerade without finding voice.

Thalia’s compliment about Inessa’s presentation broke through the undercurrent of uneasiness, and a genuine beam of happiness lit up Inessa’s face. The acknowledgment of her efforts brought a sense of validation and pride. “Thank you, Thalia! I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” Inessa responded, her eyes reflecting the gratitude for the recognition amidst the complex backdrop of the masquerade’s mysteries. The acknowledgment was like a well-deserved spotlight on her achievements, and a subtle air of overconfidence seeped into her thoughts.

“Really hoping the practice is showing. Everyone’s dedication shines through,” Inessa acknowledged, her initial response genuine and appreciative. However, as the conversation shifted, a cloud of frustration settled over her thoughts, and she couldn’t help but bring up her brother. “Unlike some people, who seem to have no concept of dedication,” she added with a hint of irritation, the mention of her brother injecting a note of annoyance into the conversation.

Can you believe he missed everything this afternoon?" she exclaimed to Thalia, her irritation evident.

catching herself in the midst of expressing frustration, she took a deep breath. Wanting to shift the atmosphere, she changed the subject, turning to Thalia with a forced smile. “Anyway, let’s not dwell on that. How was your summer, Thalia? Anything exciting happen?” The redirection aimed to steer the conversation away from the brewing frustration and towards a more positive and engaging topic, allowing them to navigate the masquerade with a lighter tone.

@Kristi

[Mouschi]

━─━────September 1st, 2023────━─━

The day of the ball was finally here. Esther’s eyes glistened with emotion as she stood before the full-length mirror, the deep blue dress flowed gracefully around her slender frame and accentuated all the right places. She had eagerly awaited the event for weeks, making the decision to attend despite feeling quite unwell. In the time she spent preparing, she had mustered up all of her strength to pretend she was fine. She’d chosen to ignore the unsettling feeling in her chest and the prickling sensation on her skin, but as she strapped the intricately designed mask to her face, a spell of dizziness made the ground beneath her start to sway. Her vision blurred, and she stumbled, feeling weaker with each passing moment.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

The sleek black car glides through the bustling streets and the city lights pass by in a blur, the anticipation of the ball hanging heavily in the air. Esther gazed out of the window, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. As they approached the entrance, Esther breathed in deeply, taking a minute to regain her composure. Before leaving the comfort of tinted windows, she promptly curved her lips into a convincing smile to disguise the pain she was in. She then stepped out of the vehicle, taking in the refreshing cold air. Holding her head high, she walked up to the doors, dress trailing behind her.

The performances had filled Esther with an excitement for her future at Ninth House, momentarily and successfully distracting her from the painful pricks that ran up and down her body. As she stands up to clap at the end, her vision goes black for a second, causing her to grasp the chair in front of her for support. She glances at her surroundings, and to her luck, everyone’s eyes are still glued to the stage.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Esther glances around at her surroundings in an attempt to fit in somewhere, feeling slightly claustrophobic in the sea of people. Almost on cue, she felt a pair of eyes on her, and she was met with a man greeting her with a friendly smile. Esther meets the man’s gaze, his piercing blue eyes stare down at her in a familiar way, evoking a sense of deja vu. “Yeah, it’s great, I really enjoyed the performances”, she answered confidently. The man’s approach was warm, and his eyes lingered over her dress. “Match with you? Please, blue just so happens to be my favorite color”, she teased in a joking tone, twirling around her in a dress.

@idiot.exe - Atlas

[novella]

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Whoever Freya was talking to didn’t give an answer to it not being their scene, which was answer enough. Okay, well at least it wasn’t everyone here that enjoyed these kind of futile moments. Even dating back to high school, Freya didn’t attend any homecomings and barely made appearances to prom. She was always too busy preparing for the next thing in her life. Whether that had been exams, work endeavours, or finding herself busy with anything else, Freya had always prioritised… pretty much anything else. Had there have been any work set in preparation for Wyndham College, she would be acting in the same manner. Instead Freya was stuck talking to someone who appeared to share similar views.

Though he seemed to be baring bad news to Freya, as the concept of these gatherings being ‘rare’ was received as comedy. The words of someone who had to attend many of these in the past, the words of a returner. Noted. “Like you have?” She commented back to his reassurance that she would get used to it, as he still appeared to seek refuge in the quiet corners. He then mentioned how these parties resulted in sharing classes with hungover students. Interesting. It made her watch the heart of the party again, would they all truly waste this time getting drunk and inevitably hungover? “And you know better, I’m guessing?” Freya asked him with ambiguity. But maybe he thought similarly, again, that being amongst those with hangovers would naturally elevate them to the top.

As she could feel his eyes on her, Freya’s eyes fixed on the crowd of people away from them. This person’s voice was quiet, but audible enough to make out the questioning of what brought her here. “The loud music and bustling crowds,” She responded without missing a beat, her joke disguising her wonder as to what he actually had meant by that. Here, as in the ball? As in the school? As in the world? Whatever the meaning behind his question, most answers were not ones she would probably not share. Not this soon. “And you?” She turned it onto him, wondering how he would take the same question.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

@astxrism Hayes

[Kristi]

[[༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ] ]

Thalia’s lips formed a gentle smile, genuine warmth shining in her eyes as she absorbed Inessa’s playful banter. “I’ll keep an eye out for that barely-there mask of yours,” she replied, her tone light and playful.

Thalia had always been an astute observer. Dubbed a “people watcher” by many, she relished the art of scrutinizing others, noting their behaviors, expressions, and the often-overlooked nuances. This penchant for observation wasn’t merely a passing curiosity; it evolved into a skill that Thalia meticulously developed over the years. It allowed her to unravel the unspoken language encoded in gestures, facial expressions, and the subtle shifts in mood. People, in all their complexity, fascinated her. Even during focused study sessions for exams, her attention would stray to the conversations around her, captivated by the diverse cadences of voices and the untold stories playing out in the periphery.

In class, her gaze would inevitably wander, exploring the room with a curious intensity. Patterns of light, the interplay between classmates – these details captivated her. Occasionally, her eyes would meet someone else’s, leading to a brief flush of embarrassment as she quickly averted her gaze. Such instances often led others to misconstrue her intentions, assuming boredom or misplaced affection. But Thalia had grown accustomed to these misunderstandings.

Her love for photography seamlessly intertwined with her fascination for people. From an early age, she found joy in capturing candid moments, freezing them in time to tell unique stories. Upon entering Ninth House with a purpose, her passion for photography evolved from a hobby into a powerful tool for a mission she had set herself for coming into Wyndham College. Her camera still was being used as a hobby of course, but it was also being used as something more, to find someone, but now it seemed she needed to find more than someone.

Despite her proficiency in deciphering people and navigating social intricacies, Thalia grappled with the complexities of human interaction. She found solace behind the lens of her camera, where she could observe without being observed, capturing moments without being captured herself. Yet, for all her people-watching skills, Thalia remained oblivious at times. In the present moment, she couldn’t discern Inessa’s thoughts, unaware of the internal contemplation taking place. “Earth to Inessa,” Thalia gently tapped Inessa, who had been lost in her thoughts, “Are you okay?” she asked with concern, oblivious to the impact her words had on Inessa. Thalia had suggested that they get some drinks, something to refresh them and hopefully helped whatever doubts that was going through Inessa’s head decrease.

Approaching the bar, Thalia’s eyes scanned the array of drinks available. Amongst the assortment of alcoholic and non-alcoholic options typical of a university gathering, she contemplated her choice. Settling for a non-alcoholic beverage seemed like the sensible decision, especially with classes awaiting her the next day. Hangovers were never pleasant, but perhaps, in this instance, it could serve as a temporary distraction from thoughts of Miles North. Yet, the likelihood of him escaping her mind anytime soon seemed slim, particularly amidst the unsettling atmosphere permeating the school.She was bound to think of him for a while, him and the others she had heard went missing. But alcohol might help ease her mind, if alchohol helps make one not to think then hey wouldn’t that mean she would not think of Miles North? In that case, would alcohol not be the better option? After all, if her attention waned during class, surely the teachers would understand, given the occasion. Thalia wasn’t exactly known for her unwavering focus in class, after all. Still, was it worth the risk?

Her internal debate crystallized into a question, one she posed to Inessa, hoping that Inessa was to chose alcohol now and indeed she did, making a smile spread out across Thalia’s features and her eyes lighting up. But she felt the glint in her eyes dim a little at Inessa words of ‘raising a glass in honor of being back at school’ Thalia suppose it was an honor that she had not died or been one of the missing students,it was indeed an honor to still be in the presence of Inessa but over all was it an honor to be back at school? To be back where everything just felt too big, to be back when you could possible be another target to go missing? Was it truly worth celebrating when Serafina Nolan, who was not often talked about and Thalia knew nothing about being missing just like Miles North?

Nevertheless, Thalia poured herself a modest drink, a blend of wine and another substance, turning to Inessa. She plastered a smile on her face, determined to embrace the spirit of the occasion. With a gentle clink of her glass against Inessa’s, she echoed the sentiment , “Cheers to being back at school.” Her words rang out amidst the lively chatter of the masquerade ball, the clinking of glasses blending seamlessly into the melodic rhythm of the evening.

As she took a sip of her drink, the familiar warmth of the wine coursed through her veins, momentarily eclipsing the shadow of doubt that lingered in her mind. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to be swept away by the camaraderie of the moment, the shared laughter and the lively banter of the crowd washing over her like a gentle tide.

This didn’t feel right, none of it did. He should be here, celebrating with them, he- “Do you ever wonder what happened to the people who keep disappearing?” Thalia found herself asking. She shook her head, no she shouldn’t ruin the mood. “Never mind,” Thalia said, a smile still on her face, as she quickly changed the subject. Showing appreciating towards Inessa performance that was indeed amazing “Enjoyed it? I did more than enjoy it! I couldn’t keep my eyes off you on the stage.” Thalia remarked, her voice carrying genuine warmth as she shifted gears. The soft smile that graced her features bespoke her sincere appreciation for Inessa’s performance.

“From the looks of it, you spend all week practicing, the practice showed and you were the best in the crowd.” Or at least, the one Thalia remembered a lot, which again meant that indeed Inessa was the best in the crowd of the performers. Thalia brought her glass close to her lips about to take a sip, when she found herself almost spitting her drink out at the mention of Inessa’s brothers. She felt her face reddening as she dropped her glass on the table, looking away so Inessa could not see her expression. “Is it just me or has alcohol become spicy- I mean has this alcohol become strong.” She stammered, her attempt at deflection sounding rather nonsensical. The flush on her face, however, betrayed a deeper unease lingering beneath the surface.

“I can’t believe he missed everything this afternoon,” She said taking another sip of the drink as she agreed with Inessa. “Did he oversleep or something? But no matter what, whether he came or did not, you did amazing, putting a smile on everyone’s faces.” Thalia dropped her drink as she held Inessa’s warm hands into her’s, staring at her with a smile, “All your hard work, dedicated showed and if he was here, I am sure he would have loved it too. Oh I think i got some parts of it on video too.” Thalia said going through her pursue to bring out her phone, she placed her password in and panned through her camera roll. “Here it is!” she exclaimed, finally finding the video she was searching for. Thalia showed her phone to Inessa. “I can send it to you if you wish,” it was a very high quality video for it being on the phone, because after all, it was angled correctly with the right lightening.

As the conversation shifted, Inessa inquired about Thalia’s summer activities. Thalia paused before responding, “It was fun, I went to visit my grandparents at their house for some time and went rock-climbing. You?”

---

@Madilnel

[Madilnel]

A tray of drinks, atop a gold platter, passed by, carried by a worker dressed in all black with a matching mask. Renlin swiftly seized a glass from the tray. As he engaged in conversation with the girl, he brought the delicate glass to his lips. An intrusive thought crossed his mind—shattering it on the ground. Not that he enjoyed breaking things, but memories of a bar where customers threw their beer bottles under a large deck when they were empty flashed through his mind. It had been the bars thing, a chaotic yet oddly exhilarating ritual.

He dismissed the thought, realizing that this elegant venue was not the appropriate setting for such rowdy practices. Yet, Renlin couldn’t shake the notion that, behind the all the elegance, hidden rituals and activities might be unfolding behind the closed doors of this venue.

The room was filled with sense of mystery as secrets overlapped and entwined. Each person carried their own hidden truths, contributing to the intricate web of complexity that defined the school they were attending.

Renlin, with a curiosity for secrets, knew that some secrets loomed larger than others. While he harbored his own truths, he relished uncovering the mysteries that others held close. His lips, typically sealed.

“Well, some might argue that the true beauty lies beneath the mask, while others may find the allure in the stunning craftsmanship. It’s all a matter of perspective, wouldn’t you agree?” Renlin responded, his words carrying a hint of mystery about his true meaning.

Renlin chuckled, feigning disappointment. “No secrets? How utterly dull. I was hoping for a bit more…excitement. But perhaps, you’re saving the best for later?” He flashed a playful grin, enjoying the banter.

Renlin downed the contents of his glass, his fingers rhythmically tapping against it, producing a soft sound. His gaze roamed the surroundings, searching for another drink. His eyes darkened as he leaned in, a playful curiosity in his body language.

“Well, of course, you’re the first. I wouldn’t waste such a question on just anyone,” Renlin responded with a playful smirk. He leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow. “The real game? Who said anything about games? Though wouldn’t you say we’re all just players here in our own way, aren’t we?”

Absolutely, everyone at the school had their own desires and motivations, and Renlin’s wants were indeed unique to him.

@astxrism

[idiot.exe]

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

How delightful to hear compliments on the performances just when Atlas was sitting aside. They’d truly caught the crowd’s attention through their grand opening, setting the mood for the rest of the celebration. And there was Atlas, standing and cheering among the viewers like some outsider. But he was nothing but proud of his group, they deserved all the praise. They did so well, even with his absence, as if nothing was lacking. Maybe once he returns, he’d even find he no longer belongs—

It was just a performance. A simple performance. Atlas’ lips curved into a weak smile, but his eyes subtly betrayed his thoughts. “I’m glad to hear that. Our friends at Enigma Stag have practiced extensively to bring you a show you’ll never forget,” he replied in a more playful tone, masking his discomfort. “I’ll have to let them know of your compliments.”

As the woman twirled around, Atlas’ eyes wandered to her dress, captivated by the light dancing across the sequins. They almost resembled stars. She matched his playful approach, and Atlas couldn’t help but chuckle. “Come on, now, you can be honest with me. I know I can be quite charming,” he teased, looking into her eyes. “Blue happens to be my favorite color too,” that was a lie. “What a coincidence, it seems we think alike.”

The strange feeling of familiarity lingered, even though Atlas was trying to push it to the back of his mind. There was a nagging question of just who was hiding behind that mask, and why was she so familiar? Atlas put his drink down on a nearby surface, not even half empty. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, so feel free to refuse, but would you like to dance with me?” He extended his hand with a smile. “I’d love to get to know you better, though secrecy is understandable. After all, it is a masked party.”

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

@Mouschi ✧ Esther Ruth Dubois

[Mouschi]

━─━────༺༻────━─━

As Esther mentioned the performances, she caught a glimpse of envy in his eyes, his smile faltering before correcting into a weak smile. The man who stood before her was a strange sight, he seemed to admire her dress as she twirled around in it. But perhaps his body language betrayed him, because the next thing he said appeared to be a lie. As the two made eye contact, a chill crept up her spine and the sounds of the ball room around them seemed to warp, becoming distorted. Seconds later, Esther found difficulty in maintaining her footing while the man in front of her appeared to morph into multiple people. Taking the glass to her lips with trembling hands, she took large sips of water in an attempt to steady herself.

There was something about him that seemed to hint at a hidden agenda, a subtle gleam in his eyes that sent Esther on edge. As the man offered a dance, Esther’s eyes flickered for a moment, briefly hesitant. He was indeed quite charming, but hidden beneath the mask there seemed to be a dark side. ”Oh - I’m not much of a dancer”, she lied, smiling shyly. ”Actually, I was wondering, have we met before?”, she asked, attempting to change the conversation. Even if she fancied a dance with him, her movements would be too shaky and was a good enough reason.

Despite her best efforts to stay composed, her heart began beating faster, tears forming in her eyes. With each passing moment, the effects of the poison coursing through her veins only intensified. But she couldn’t show weakness, not tonight. Only sheer determination kept Esther upright, her every movement a test of endurance. Placing her hand on her chest, she took deep breaths, willing herself to focus. She took to the water once more, with every sip, the lingering taste on her tongue getting increasingly bitter. Esther wondered if she should excuse herself to get some air, but the man had intrigued her, and she desperately wanted to figure out why he was so familiar.

@idiot.exe - Atlas

[katabasis]

House Of Balloons / Glass Table Girls

· · ────── ────── · ·

For Casey, this was a new and unfamiliar world. It wasn’t the wealth, of course, Casey was used to that. He attended Wharton school of business, if anything the wealth was comforting in this new world. So he appreciated the ornate architecture, the student’s elaborate outfits and masks and the elegant decadence that filled the halls.

His own mask was not particularly elaborate or decadent, just a simple thing to match his simple suit. However every stitch was perfect and identical on both objects and great pain was taken by the tailor to highlight his best proportions. Simplicity, elegance, prestige. He observed students conversing with another, a good amount of them familiar with one another. He felt estranged in a sense, within this magical, upper-class world no wonder the students would already have attended before him and have connections. Starting from ground zero, he thought to himself as a serving girl approaches him with a glass in hand.

Casey reached for a glass offered to him by one of the assistants within the ball. He offers a smile, showing all of his teeth. “Thank you.” He walks across the ballroom, before catching a glimpse of a girl not to far away. She was definitely a pretty girl, with dark hair, dark eyes and an alluring, almost siren-like appearance. That was contrasted with the light tones of her dress and mask, floral embroidery decorating both. He walks across to her, smiling as he began to talk. “You seem a little lonely all the way over here,” he remarks in a light-hearted manner. “How are you enjoying…” he gestures at the scene around them, as if he was searching for a word. "The event. " He leans against the wall before taking a sip of his drink, his blue eyes focused on the lady in front of him.

---

This took me wayyy too long, I just didn’t know how to approach sjsksjskj…

@Littlefeets - Cayenne

[cordyx]

needle in a haystack

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Did he just wink under that mask? Celestine wondered as she stared into his mask, a mask plain enough to reflect some hinges of emotion that Dante was supposed to convey to her. The compliments slide over her head, washing over the thoughts of nothing but pure, unadulterated uninterest in the conversation. Compliments that she had heard many times throughout her whole life spiraled down the drain as she muted them out once they became old. What did ring in her ear was the slight reference to retirement, giving some relief that he caught on to some of her references. The once stiff posture she maintained during the conversation would soon mellow down as she was able to slightly pinpoint who he was. It was still a hunch, but Celestine just needed something that could break that shadow of anonymity.

Still in the middle of picking up the pieces in the puzzle she had conjured up in her brain, those boring compliments would soon shock her as he revealed a pair of sunglasses in his pocket, giving a slight form of amusement to her dollish features. She anticipated a bit, hoping he would put glasses in the mask and leave it askew, but failed to do so, making her let out a chuckle uncharacteristically out of her system: “And I thought you were brave enough to try it on, especially with a mask that… needs a bit of color in every sense of the word. Surely, it will make your world much brighter.” Celestine soothed herself as she continued to say what she wanted to say, reverting back to her graceful self as she patted Dante’s jacket. “The chandelier makes the gowns and tuxedos glitter in such a way; shouldn’t you be wearing this throughout the whole event? I can’t be the only one that shines brighter than a crown.” Coquettishly fanning herself, she let out a slight sigh as she hoped to never slip into something she would never see at an actual serious formal tie event.

“You flatter me. At least you can add something to your account after meeting someone so wildly interesting as to make a comment on their stylistically intricate hairdo. But so much for that, I did expect you to enjoy such an event. It is a masked ball, and you could practically meet with everyone, making any form of consequence obsolete. That is, if you keep your cards high enough, never let someone slip the ribbon on your flat mask.” Celestine thought of her conversation as being void of the energy to match with Dante, but she was fond enough of rebuilding a boundary, especially with his fondness for making so many ‘golden girl’ references. She thought to confuse him once more, giving a slight smirk as she looked with cheeky vengeance, “As for this… golden girl, unfortunately… I’m no Blanche, certainly not with style and attitude. I’m more of a Dorothy, enjoying a fancy night looking for my friends, as I see one particularly being friendly. But… thank you for being a great friend and companion and for amusing me with such a pleasant conversation.”

She had thought to leave him then and there, particularly unamused by his whims and playful compliments that could lead nothing to more hollow conversations, but he had slipped in an invitation that could strike words that had never been in her vein before. A simple walk in the gardens, sure. Strolling under the moonlight, interesting. Finding secrets to uncover—I don’t like where this is going. But the last anecdote struck a nerve in her—something she found so repulsive as to diminish herself as this clean slate girl. So this is why he keeps bringing up the golden girl, as she deduced. Memories seeped in moments where she danced along the crowds, barely even reaching their shoulders, alongside her mother’s request to be her personal camera at parties inappropriate for any children to be in. Something so simple, yet it made her realize a common form of insult to her character: so proper she can’t be moved. That hunch she made proved to be true, and she did not want to take the bait. She took the bait nonetheless.

Her stance jolted, stiffened with a look dark enough to dim a room. She smiled fiercely to his face, “Exploring the gardens, eh? Secrets buried beneath the magnolias and asters—how amusing this definition of adventure is to you. And I thought you were notorious for fuming the heads of professors with dubious schemes.” Her hollow laugh soon followed, “Maybe it’s the liquor talking, but what do you make of me? Is it because I style myself too bodacious for practical events, or maybe I walk with my heels in a way that looks like I’m balancing books with a firecracker on my mouth lest I make any form of uncouthness unbenign by a lady of my stature?”

Celestine tried to calm herself, sensing a quiver in her voice, but she continued on as the room felt like a void with only Dante to hear the panting of her breath, "Forgive my impertinence, but this is a masquerade event, a codeword for a party. Etiquette may be in the way you walk, socialize, and even dance! But to play your cards in such a traditional way won’t ever be amusing to your guests; the thrill comes from learning the schemes and forming them. I know for a fact that there are not enough people in this ballroom, especially with a school esteemed like this. Where do you think they went, hm? ” Before he even answered, she picked up her pace as she scanned the room to direct her thoughts, “I know where they went. Setting their businesses… elsewhere. Bad blood, assassinations, and even the conception of children—or lack thereof— Who knows, there might be someone already in the headmaster’s bathroom making whoopee, or even some gowns being ruined at the school gardens with the excuse of admiring the roses. I will again say my apologies for lightly making a great impression on such a simple statement, but a party is supposed to be fun! And to make your night satisfactory, I will accept your offer… out of spite.”

Letting out a sigh, she walked against Dante, slightly budging him as the sound of her heels clacked. Immediately, she stopped as she pivoted to him, giving a stern question, “You’re the gentleman with an invitation; lead me the way.”

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@Jass - Dante

[Madilnel]

Inessa, acutely aware of Thalia’s perceptiveness, channeled her acting skills to mask the shift in her mood. Despite the internal turbulence, she maintained a bright and chipper demeanor, ensuring that the change in her face and tone went unnoticed—or so she hoped. Thalia’s intuition was a challenge, and Inessa recognized the need to stay true to the expected vivacity while hiding what was inside, a frustration that lingered beneath the surface. The masquerade, in this instance, extended beyond the literal masks, requiring a skillful performance to navigate the complexities of emotions.

Inessa, a seasoned actor in the intricate theater of social interactions, embraced the challenge with finesse. The need to conceal her frustration became just another scene to master, an opportunity for honing her acting skills. To the outside world, Inessa remained the epitome of brightness.

renowned for her vibrant personality and looks. She understood the importance of maintaining that image. Her characterr, carefully cultivated over time, was a hallmark of her identity. The image she presented to the world was a product of years of crafting.

Inessa snapped back to the present, Thalia’s gentle tap pulling her from her thoughts. She mustered a bright smile, “Of course, just got lost in the the beauty of tonight” The redirection, a seamless blend of charm and casualness, aimed to conceal the momentary lapse and maintain the vibrant front that was Inessa. The masquerade, both literal and metaphorical, continued around her, and Inessa gracefully returned to the rhythm of the conversation.

Thalia’s question cut through the air, steering the conversation into a more somber realm. Inessa’s thoughts briefly flickered to her recent contact with her ex, a subtle acknowledgment of shared history and concern. Maintaining her composed demeanor, she replied, “It’s a troubling thought, isn’t it? I reached out to someone about it today, just to let them know I’m thinking of them.” The weight of the disappearances lingered through everyone’s minds.

She reassured herself that her concern for the disappearances wasn’t excessive. While the news had prompted her to reach out to her ex and express support, she held a pragmatic view, assuming that those in charge were actively addressing the situation.

Despite the undercurrent of concern and the thoughts that went through her mind, Inessa remained resolute in her decision to keep these sentiments closely guarded. hidden from the scrutiny of those around her.

“Can you imagine if one of us went missing?” she asked, the gravity of the thought settling between them.

Inessa chuckled at Thalia’s comment, finding amusement in the playfulness of the conversation about her drink being spicy. She took a sip of her Riesling, savoring the crisp taste. Glancing at Thalia’s glass, she raised an eyebrow. “Maybe the taste of your drink is an omen, giving a sneak peek into the vibes of the upcoming school year,” she suggested with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Thalia’s inquiry about Inessa’s brother missing the performance brought a growl of frustration in Inessa’s mind. Suppressing the irritation, she replied, I don’t know what he was up to. I went to yell at him, and he was on the floor doing who knows what." Inessa kept the details vague, silently relishing the hope that her earlier reprimand had left an impact.

Inessa nodded appreciatively at Thalia’s offer. With a gesture of gratitude, she put her hands together, silently conveying her thanks for Thalia’s willingness to share the information.

“That sounds amazing! Rock-climbing, really?” Inessa responded with excitement. Her eyes lit up, and she leaned in, eager to hear all the details. “Do you have pictures? Im sure you do! I’m dying to see.” Inessa’s enthusiasm added a lively energy to the conversation, and she anticipated the visual journey through Thalia’s experiences.

“Me? I was stuck on the island with my brother and Dante. You can only imagine how much excitement I was given.” Inessa’s tone carried a dull edge.

@Kristi

[idiot.exe]

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As the conversation progressed, Atlas caught a glimpse of the woman’s shaky hands as she raised the glass to her lips. Something about her body language was off, but he couldn’t be quite sure. Was it his eyes playing tricks on him, or was she truly disturbed over something? She pointed out her inability to dance, and Atlas nodded in understanding, taking it as a subtle rejection. “That’s completely fine, we don’t have to,” he smiled faintly. He could only hope he hadn’t done anything to make her uncomfortable. It wasn’t likely, after all, they’d just met.

…Right?

Wrong. He was wrong. And the question following made Atlas’ blood go cold. His suspicions were confirmed, she was familiar and she seemed to recognize him as well. His eyes scanned her face, his smile faltering as he struggled to get a proper glimpse of her features. It was true that he recognized her, but he couldn’t think of a single person at Ninth House that would fit her appearance. At least, it wasn’t one of his friends. Maybe he was overreacting, and it was just an acquaintance he happened to speak to once. But his heart began to race as he thought about it more, just the possibility of the stranger being someone he’s close to. He’d have embarrassed himself with how he’d acted, pretending to be someone he’s not, just for the fun of it.

Atlas let out an awkward laugh, picking his glass back up from the table. He began to swirl the drink in his hand, focusing on the light glimmering on the liquid’s surface. “Hmm, have we met before? Funny you mention it, because I’ve been wondering the same thing,” he replied in a relaxed tone, taking a sip of his drink to regain his composure. Atlas looked into her eyes again, putting on his usual smile. “Maybe we’ve seen each other around the hallways? If you were in my classes, I’d have recognized you by now. There is rarely a person who…” he trailed off, noticing her discomfort was only worsening. Her eyes seemed to glisten slightly in the dim light and her breathing seemed shaky. As he thought about it more, she was alone before he approached her. There were so many possibilities as to why, but dwelling on it would only send his thoughts spiralling. Whether he was assuming things or not, he had to ask and clarify.

His expression softened as he leaned in slightly, lowering his tone. “Are you feeling okay? You seem… nervous.”

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@Mouschi ✧ Esther Ruth Dubois