Ninth House | Official RP Thread

Renlin
//Clone
Ren found himself at the bar, ordering an olfashioned. Not just one, no, he was onto his third now. Should he really be mixing alcohol with the medication that was keeping him awake? Most definitely not.

Despite the potential consequences, Renlin shrugged off the thought. The smooth blend of bourbon and bitters seemed to align with his desire for a temporary escape.

As he continued to indulge in the amber liquid, the surroundings blurred slightly. The chatter around him faded. Renlin found solace in the anonymity the mask provided. It shielded him, allowing a bit of detachment from himself.

For many, the night offers a detachment from the realities of the world. In tje world of dreams, you can escape, explore, and experience a different reality. However, for Renlin, this nocturnal detachment takes a darker turn. His nights are not a sanctuary but rather a battleground where nightmares unfold.

For Renlin, these nightmares were a dance right on the border between sleep and wakefulness. The shadows of dark and unrest lingered, and the need for help became not just a stimulant for wakefulness but a shield against the haunting visions that awaited in the silence of the night.

The masquerade, with its vibrant energy and lively atmosphere, surrounded Renlin. The music pulsed through the air, the laughter of masked friends, and the colorful array of costumes painted the room with vibrancy. Yet, amidst this lively scene, Renlin found himself acutely aware of the silent that lingered, the absence of some, the unspoken sorrows that resonated beneath the surface. In the midst of the celebration, a subtle melancholy danced alongside the lively beats, a reminder that not everyone was here partaking in the celebration.

Renlin held no fear of public speaking; the opinions of others held little sway over him. As Renlin found himself standing ahead of the group on the staircase, a wave of uncertainty lingered. How had he ended up here? Navigating through the crowd, Renlin found himself on the staircase almost as if guided by an invisible force.

Now elevated on the staircase, Renlin looked over railing to the bustling crowd below. The illusion of everyone’s presence was kept well, but they were all aware that not everyone truly was at this party.

Renlin cleared his throat, but the noise of the masquerade drowned out the sound, leaving it unnoticed by the attendees. He tcleared his throat once more, this time a bit louder, this time being able to capture the attention of those nearby, his action echoing in the expansive space as a deliberate pause.

Renlin took a step forward, attempting to speak loud enough for everyone to hear., “Well, isn’t this a lively night?” his voice cracked ever so slightly, leading to a moment of pause, before he chuckled it off.

“Isn’t it just so nice that we’re all here together again, creating memories and sharing moments in this vibrant gathering?” Renlin rambled. “How was your summer, Miles? Seraphina? Did you guys do anything exciting?” Renlin asked, a smile on his face, but the lack of response hung in the air, leading to an awkward silence.

As Renlin exclaimed, “Oh right, they can’t answer because they aren’t here. And here we all are just okay with that? Is that okay? I mean I have been letting the thoughts run all over my mind, so I’m sure I’m not the only one. Raise of hands who has been thinking this too!” he gestured dramatically, expecting a response.

Renlin chuckled to himself, saying, “I for one have suspicions…” as he continued to entertain his thoughts in front of all his classmates and professors.

@NinthHouse attention attention ren has spoken
@novella waiting for his prince to rescue him

10 Likes

Atlas Theodore Alstone

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

The mysterious woman’s words sent a chill down Atlas’ spine. Not only were they both experiencing an odd sense of deja vu, but she claimed to be a new student. He struggled to keep his smile as his mind travelled across his memories, wondering just where he’d seen her face before. There was one particular person on his mind from the beginning, but he simply couldn’t believe it. There was no chance, it had to be a trick.

Atlas forced a weak laugh. “A new student? My, you’re funny,” he spoke, attempting to shrug off his doubts. “You want to play a guessing game? I’m intrigued. But a fair warning, you won’t discover me so easily, I aim to keep my identity hidden for tonight,” he winked playfully, taking a sip from his drink.

But despite his relaxed exterior, the nagging feeling in the back of his mind persisted. The more he thought about it, the more clues he noticed. Though her face might’ve changed through the years, her voice sounded eerily familiar to the woman in his memories. His thoughts went back to a different time, back to his high school days where they’d first met. But there was something different about the person standing in front of him. Her mannerisms and body language were off, as if she were nervous. But Atlas was left clueless of what caused it. She claimed to be dizzy, but the way she was acting suggested otherwise. Atlas’ brows furrowed in concern, as she struggled to even look up at him.

He took a step back to give her space, but kept his eyes on her. “Are you sure? You look really unwell, but I might be assuming,” he spoke in a softer tone.

The person then excused herself, apologizing to Atlas. He paused in reluctance, before speaking, “Wait, maybe you should sit down—” he cut himself off in uncertainty as she took a step forward to leave. “I’m sorry, I—”

And just then, he noticed the way her body began to sway. Before he could even process it, she’d lost her balance and fell forward into him. “Esther—” Atlas gasped. The glass she’d been holding shattered on the ground, liquid spilling across the floor. He stepped forward to support her with his weight, putting an arm around her to hold her up. “I mean, no, I… Not Esther…” he stammered, his breath catching in his throat. The music and voices around him combined into a loud, disorienting noise, as ringing filled his ears.

Atlas frantically looked around the room, looking for the nearest place to put her down. His eyes landed on an empty bench next to the wall. He put his own glass on a nearby table, freeing both his arms to lift her up. He made his way to the sofa with a quickened pace, laying the woman down on it.

The first thing he did was put a finger against the side of her throat, feeling for a pulse. “Please don’t be dead, don’t be dead…” he mumbled to himself. Once he felt a faint heartbeat, Atlas sighed in relief. His shaky hand reached up to the collar of his shirt, tugging on it as the atmosphere seemed to turn suffocating. He stood helplessly next to the bench, unsure of how to even proceed. Does he call for help? Wait until she wakes up on her own? He didn’t even know first aid.

“Wake up, come on… I… I don’t know what to do!” he shouted, his eyes darting across the room to find a solution. “Damn it… If it really is you, then you seem to have a thing for—” he cut off, noticing another woman’s eyes on them.

Atlas waved to her, hoping she’d notice what was going on. Though he hated the way he was acting, so in that moment he forced a weak smile, hoping the mask hid the rest of his expression.

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

@Mouschi Esther Ruth Dubois
@raviola Desdemona Sevdaliza


4 Likes

celestine beaumont

sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows

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“That I do not oppose. However, and I do apologize for the bluntness, I find it tiresome to stick out in a crowd like a sore thumb. I guess I could try the things they wear, but I feel like they’re more afraid of playing with colors, residing in the usual muted tones… to the point of actually blending in the background.” Celestine let out an awkward chuckle, rather out of her character, as she rubbed her head to soothe herself from slipping more than she thought was enough. With a whispering tone, she added, “I sound rude, but once they realize that one can style hair other than a flimsy beach wave, that will be the day Celestine graduates. Maybe then I’ll see a student rocking a 1967 Balenciaga oval dress for my pleasure, but I digress.” Stepping back, she looked up at the chandelier once more as she tensed up, remembering her slipping away from unnecessary comments. “Light reflects a gown’s sequin and silk. At least to some, they are not afraid of utilizing fabrics to the best of their taste. I could hook you up with a stylist or shopper since… I’m not saying you need one, but a suggestion may help improve what is lacking in some departments.”

The conversation continued on as she found herself more detached from the room and its sender, looking at every loom of curtains and reflection of light refracted by the dresses. His demeanor and playful attitude seemed one-note for Celestine, not showing any form of emotion other than playful and mischievous banter. Such a sweet demeanor urged Celestine’s mind to excuse herself so as to find a much more entertaining fellow. She went on, however, hoping that she could crack him out or learn some information that could make all the hollow conversations feel like something. The references in golden intertwined with a show gave her a good chuckle however, further adding flame to make him stumble a bit by adding more references as they become more obscure unless an avid watcher, "Really? What did you make me, then? A Rose? Certainly not a Blanche, but a suggestion of a Sofia? The limit is endless to knowing what lurks behind a frock. Perfection is usually skin deep, lying beneath a person that pricks hard or lowers you down. I’ve been rambling again, but I’m still dying to know what you think of me! ” She fought on with a smile, finally hearing another golden commentary, and by reflex, she replied back, “Right, comedy gold you are. I’d call it more of a comedian pyrite, but either way, the crowd can’t tell the difference.”

That tone was just as cheery as ever, not breaking down at all, no matter how hard she tried. A sense of self in her body was chucked out, releasing some kind of energy she was not able to shake off. It was only thanks to her mother’s training that she could control herself so as to make the conversation seem civil and elegant. She had sensed something that could be more, but brushed it off as she continued on with a graceful smile, grasping his shoulders as she moved closer to his ears. “I am well aware of the garden’s… quirks. They lash out and change into something they are willing to show. I may not know the garden’s full potential, but it certainly is not afraid of making a scene just for the fun of it. Who knows how many people dilly-dally around the gardens just to find themselves in another realm where color is five times more saturated than this place? People who pick flowers are aware of the garden’s unpredictability, and yet you wouldn’t call them adventurous types since they only get the flowers for scrapbooking.” Looking back at him, she felt a snicker that could be released at any time like a ticking clock ready to explode. She kept a calm attitude as the world around her came back to her senses, a feeling of which the void was sucked out, regaining a form of elegance that had been lost for a good minute. “My views are not exactly world-shaking, so to speak. Every noble and dignitary who has ever danced with the crowd is well aware of each motive that can strike them at any move. Ask anyone what their view of people going away from parties is; you get the same answer with different wordings. The same dance, the same talk, the same demeanor. I assure you, I am simply a person with no discernible information other than the fact that I dress nice.”

Rearranging herself, she looked around a crowd to see some looking at her. Maybe they sensed something was wrong. Lover’s quarrel? Or maybe something more. Either way, her gaze looked back at him as she simply nodded and followed his advice. His whispers continue, giving Celestine a check on the environment. Looking back at him, she wrapped her arms around him as she rested her head on his shoulder. “I certainly do, though I hoped for a more fabulous accessory than this getup.”

It felt like an eternity to walk outside, pretending something was happening excitingly, but Celestine pushed through as the memories of what she had said washed through her mind. Certain forms of regret and doubt were added to her memory, leaving her to look at the scenery to see any form of anomaly that could harm both reputations. In a safer spot, she had finally let go and dropped the romantic persona. Breathing in and out, she looked back at him with reassurance of what had happened in the ballroom. “Before you say anything, I did not hear any form of sneaking or the like. Besides, other than some nosy gossip, I did not say anything that could raise any form of drama from anyone. Sure, the final comment on s*x was a little too scandalous for a formal setting, but I talked about elegance and manners, a topic so common among these ruffians that I can simply blend in by making it seem like I’m teaching a clueless nobody to integrate into the world of society.”

The feeling did not relieve her of the weight she had felt, however, as if recounting the memories and picking apart things that may stain the elegant name of the Beaumont’s. She was obvious, not by her words but in the way she presented herself. Maybe she had dressed differently—no, there were some words she should’ve said differently. Whatever it is, she looked at him, slightly defeated but keeping a posture to keep some form of dignity. “I may have lashed out and made some comments, hitting you one by one. I apologize. But I think you need lesson one on elegance and manners; be mindful of your words.” Pacing the place, she murmured with frustration as she scanned back at her memories once more. “Not an adventurous type… and on a stupid garden at school grounds? Even the president excuses himself to eliminate an enemy during a stately dinner. And the enemy is 34 kilometers away.”

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@Jass - Dante

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|808px;x233px;


@Littlefeets sorry ab her Raven
@idiot.exe Atlas
@Mouschi Esther
@Kristi Thalia briefly mentioned


The other girl who replied to Desdemona sounded very sober, much more than Mona did. But trust, she was not on any drug, she just acted like it. Opposite to her, this girl seemed very naturally serious, almost a little bit… dominant? It intruiged mona. She had never met anyone with her demeanor before. Granted, she had only met like three people, but even Mom and Dad were still very warm when they were being bossy. Raven was more cool. but still seemed bossy.

Raven. That was her name so she must not have been in the Cipher group. Then who was? Should she have memorized the entire student body then?

Regardless, the other girl had asked her a question, so Desdemona interrupted her thoughts to respond “I am new! How did you know?” Mona smiled, genuinely having no idea how someone could be so insightful. She obviously had no idea how obviously new she looked, both to the school and society itself.

“What’s your superpower group?” She asked, unsure how to refer to the clusters. The girl wanted to know which group everyone was, and how their powers worked. According to her studying, others could possess either photokinetic resonance, shadow manipulaiton, or cryptomancy. Did each power have commonly associated personality traits? If so, what are Cipher traits? Should she be more like that?

She didn’t know the answer to that question, but she knew that she also wanted to talk to lots of people! For a quick second, she looked behind Raven at who else was at the scene to talk to. THALIA! SHE SAW THALIA SHE SAW THALIA ALERT ALERT! “Thalia!” Mona exclaimed, her eyes widening, and she sort of looped around Raven, forgetting their conversation before going to find her awesome bestie.

But as she navigated through the crowd, a harsh shatter sounded on the floor. It was a wine glass, and above it, Mona saw a girl lying unconscious in the arms of another student. Everyone’s heads were turning to face the same thing, but no one moved to help. Instead, they all seemed to watch idly, like sitting ducks. In oblivion, Desdemona did not notice the implication of their silence.

Instead, she walked over to the girl, and gave the guy holding her a soft look, signaling he let her see. He turned her body ever so slightly, allowing Mona to take that look. Her chest rose and fell, still breathing, but her skin was pale, and she looked sick. Mona was probably expected to check her pulse, or something more useful, but instead, she brushed the girl’s hair behind her ear, and gently caressed her cheek. As her hand dragged along the girl’s face, speckles of gold shone about her fingers and down her palm.

In a voice so light that it sounded almost like a whisper, Mona began to sing to her, resting her hand on the girl’s heart. “Papilio meo," her eyes went white, and the golden glow rushed out of her hands like a current, but it fragmented, threatening to stop. She shook her head, trying again until it worked. "Secretum tuum indica mihi. quid pateris? Quid a me lates? Spiritus tuus explodit, sed hanc pugnam feremus. Quid est arcanum tuum?” This time the pattern seemed to work, and the energy emitted from Desdemona’s fingertips seemed to seep down into Esther’s chest, stirring her body slightly.

The melody was sweet and meaningful, yet something about her expression seemed disturbed. It was like the spell she had casted was not hers, but rather belonged to the foreign entity that entranced her. Desdemona was hardly capable of basic logarithms from her small world, so how was it possible that she could conjure such magic?

At the end of the song, she blinked, and her eyes regained their olive color, and she returned back to reality. From her point of view, her skin had regained some of its color, and she could sense her eyes on the brink of fluttering back open. Aside from the girl, she looked back up to the guy holding her. Mona chuckled nervously, and then looked up to him before giving a guilty smile. “Hi,” she said finally.

7 Likes

enzo|597px;x209px;


@Kristi Amani
@Novella Jesse
this might be booty but wtv we ball


When he pulled her, she rolled her eyes, and he smirked, amused by her protest. Her btchy smile was probably meant to be an insult, but he wasn’t really paying attention as he looked down between her legs, admiring her figure once more. As much as she tried to act nonchalant, he noticed her loss of ease when trying to leave. Her orgasm hadn’t even fully settled yet, and she already wanted to leave? Cold. Much colder than he remembered the platonic version of Amani, but he supposed that now he knew all of the stories she told were realistic.

Amani whispered, and he leaned his ear closer to her lips when she spoke. She told him she was going to leave, but her voice sounded like seduction. He put his free hand on her waist, holding her to say not yet. But in the middle of her whispering, the door was opened by the intruder. Considering her previous annoyance by his statement, he swallowed a laugh at her surprise. He did tell her the night wasn’t over, after all.

He put his hand down, refocusing on the new topic at hand with a quiet, raised brow. He was trying to piece together who he was before Amani said his name.
Jesse.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before he confirmed his theory about them. Kind of perfect right? That the two worst people in the coven were the voices he heard moaning behind the wall. No wonder the girl’s screams sounded fake.

He wanted to protest, but they spoke first, so he listened, his hand still on her wrist.

Her comebacks to him were decent-sounding, but inadequate. Even though she was clearly not having his bullsht, he persisted, walking into the room without a care in the world. Typical, he’s never had to face the consequences to his actions, so of course he doesn’t care. And even to Vinnie, it felt a bit vile how he asked for “his turn.”

“You missed it.” Vinnie informed him. “I’m sure you could ask uncle dearest for a way around that too, though. Maybe he’ll let you get more than one girl if the trust fund provides for it.” As per usual, Vincenzo had to react, making a small suggestion about the upper class’s affinity for prostitution.

He probably should have been a bit more discomforted by Jesse seeing him naked, considering human instinct, but he didn’t really feel a need to. He was pretty overconfident about his body, and Jesse had frankly seen much much worse from him. The one thing that was a bit alarming was that if Vincenzo gave too much away, then Amani would have all of the material to figure out his identity.
He supposed she could have a hint or two.

“You can leave now, by the way. I know you probably love what you’re seeing right now,” Vinnie gestured at his own body, changing the subject. “But it’s not for you.” He would have pointed at Amani, but that probably was for him, at least to some extent. Besides, this option was more accurate. Even if Jesse wasn’t gay, he was definitely obsessed with him. The only reason he could possibly feel that much of a necessity to bring him down, was because he knew Vinnie was better.

“Mystery man, reveal yourself!”

Amani reeled in closer to Vinnie, almost sitting on his lap again and asked if she knew him. He turned his head back to her ear, and whispered back with a venomous smile. “You know I can’t answer that.” And he didn’t explain why, but the reason seemed a bit obvious. Now that ‘the masked man’ could guess her identity based on Jesse’s appearance, it was inferable that he knew she was Amani, so he was obviously not keeping quiet to preserve the mutual anonymity. He just wanted to preserve his own. And within the low, familiar sound of his voice, she had to have heard Enzo talking.

She kissed him, and then he leaned back in his seat, watching her tease the both of them. Was she trying to initiate something? Because he didn’t think either of them would be down for that, but he watched her with a smirk. “You’re supposed to be keeping me entertained.” He reminded her, and picked up a piece of her hair, twirling it with his fingers. Then, he looked back up into her eyes. “But he can watch, if that’s what he’s into.”

Then he turned to Jesse, appealing to the suggestion of his voyeurism. “Does that turn you on? Watching other guys take your girl from you?” Vinnie scoffed. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

7 Likes

jessss

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“And leave my favourite Umbra Coven’s? Come on, I could never do that,” Jesse exclaimed, gesturing to the pair of them. But it seemed that comment had a hesitant reaction, a confused Amani looking back to the third party to confer. He watched as she toyed with the mask of Vince’s, teasing the reveal of his face. Would Amani expect it? She knew who she was in bed with, right? Who knew. If anyone here was an enigma it was her. Some days Jesse thought he knew her, but then she would never fail to surprise her. It was probably what kept him coming back, and why he was stood here in this room. I mean, it certainly wasn’t for Vincenzo’s benefit.

The Amani’s mystery partner in the background finally piped up, to which Jess raised his eyebrows in mock-surprise. “Oh, he speaks!” He exclaimed, his mind still on how much Vinnie had told the girl. About his identity, specifically. “Already tried that, bud. Maybe some of your old housemates from last year could link me up?” He quipped, then shrugging in disappointment after the warning look he received in response.

Though Amani hardly gave Vinnie time to reply to her questioning, as she began kissing him again. Jesse started backing away as clearly they were too busy. But as he did, they turned their attention back to him as they began their accusations. “Me? I was merely responding to your message, darling,” He told in a soft but humorous tone to Amani as he held his hands up in defence, referencing the invite that she had sent him. To Vinnie, though, his approach was far different. “Does sleeping with girls that don’t know who you are turn you on?” Jesse asked him, but then he let out a scoff that mirrored his. “Suppose that’s the only way you’d get any,” He continued.

From the ball, he caught the distant sound of a familiar voice. In a way that did not sound good. In a way that told him he needed to wrap this up and get back down there. “Well, this has been fun,” Jesse commented, in a distracted manner that did not sound convinced it had been fun. He backed away further, ignoring whatever the pair were saying to him. “Amani, always a pleasure to see you,” Jesse nodded in her direction as he stood at the door way. “You and Vince have a good night,” Was his final sentiment before he was gone.

When he was out of sight, Jesse’s cool composure dissipated into a light sprint back into the ballroom, the sound of his friend’s voice getting louder with every step forward he took. As he entered, the sight he was dreading was a reality. Renlin Duman stood at the top of the staircase, commanding everyone’s attention. Usually, Jesse would be all for a quick stand-up moment, he’s even partial to his own from time-to-time. But on this occasion, Renlin was currently trying to publicly solve two missing persons cases.

As he advanced closer to the stairs, Jesse could see some angered professors making their own way over, which quickened his pace. Before Ren could begin to potentially call out his ‘suspicions’ by name, Jesse’s hands were on his shoulders, making his presence known to his friend. “Yeah, let’s all keep Miles and Serafina in our thoughts tonight!” Jesse called out to the apprehensive audience, turning Ren’s rage-induced trial into a toast. “We hope for their quick and safe return and let’s raise a glass to them!” He continued, taking the drink from Renlin’s hand and holding it in the air as his own, before gently steering Renlin back down the stairs.

“I know, I know,” Jesse started over Renlin’s slurred explanations as he straightened out the collar on his blazer. “You weren’t going to get any answer you wanted like that, Ren.”

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@Madilnel Renlin
@raviola Vince
@Kristi Amani

8 Likes

ezgif-7-ab10566908

✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁ :sparkling_heart:▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩

The rest of the world seemed to disappear as the pair danced amongst the crowd, lost in the soft music and each other’s company. Laughter echoed between them as their feet glided across the polished floor, twirling and spinning as if this moment was made just for them. Feeling as though she could dance here forever, Devon savored the feeling of his hand in hers and the warmth of his smile.

“Oh, Miss Vixen, a woman of mystery and power? I feel… absorbed,”

Devon’s eyes sparkled once more, a dazzling smile forming upon her lips. “Mysterious and Powerful?”, she teased, giving the man a small smirk, “You’re quite the charmer I must say”. Hiding the rosy hue etched across her face proved almost impossible, she felt something indescribable, like she’s never felt before. Staring into the man’s eyes, she could not help but feel that their connection was undeniable.

As they danced, the gentleman’s gaze seemed to shift; he tightened his grip on her hands slightly and applied pressure to her back before swifty leading her to the side. Devon glanced curiously over her shoulder, noticing that they’d narrowly missed a drunken couple. ”You’ve got a sharp eye”, she joked playfully.

Glancing down at her again, the man began, “So, Miss Vixen, tell me, what lies beneath the mask? The written word is mine. What passions and dreams do you hold close to your heart? I sense a hidden depth to you, a captivating spirit waiting to be revealed?”. Letting out a curious “hm”, Devon peered up at ceiling lights, her mind racing to conjure an answer. ”As far as passions go, I like cooking and crafting drinks. It’s funny you mention dreams, because I don’t have any, honestly, sometimes I feel like I’m here searching for a purpose” , she started, her tone lighthearted but carrying a certain depth. Her eyes glittered with slight despair as she spoke, and her smile remained unchanged. ”Tell me, handsome, where do you see yourself in 10 years?”.

@tina.g - Oggy

5 Likes

✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ • ✧∭✧∰✧∭✧

✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ • ✧∭✧∰✧∭✧

“You’re quite the charmer I must say”. Agastya felt the warm pink tones radiating off the woman. He reveled in it. “I can only be as charming as I am charmed. But I try. Although, I do see myself going the extra mile. There’s just something intoxicating about you,” he gave a small, tilted head smile. Soft and sweet. He was actually enjoying the dance and was planning on keeping the track uphill.

”As far as passions go, I like cooking and crafting drinks. It’s funny you mention dreams, because I don’t have any, honestly, sometimes I feel like I’m here searching for a purpose,” He studied her intently, feeling a strong connection to her despite not knowing her real identity. Miss Vixen was a mystery to him, but one he was determined to solve. “I find it hard to believe that someone as enchanting as you has no dreams,” he said with a small smile, his eyes never leaving hers. “Everyone has a small fire in them. Is it almost out? Possibly. But until I’m dead, it’s still there. A little flicker. And I can’t let myself believe that your fire is out.” Agastya hadn’t meant for that last part to sound challenging, but it did. He was contradicting himself and he knew it. He looked down at her, quickly clearing his brash demeanor away. He gave her his best closed lipped smile, the sparkle in his eye becoming polished in this light.

”Tell me, handsome, where do you see yourself in 10 years?”. Dead. Agastya’s heart clenched at Miss Vixen’s question, the weight of his own mortality pressing down on him like a heavy burden. He knew all too well that his future was uncertain, that the cancer could come back at any moment and claim him. Became round three. But he couldn’t bring himself to voice his fears aloud, not to this woman who had unknowingly captured his heart.

For a moment, he was silent, grappling with his inner turmoil. Then, with a small but genuine smile, he met Miss Vixen’s gaze and said, “In 10 years, I see myself following my passion for writing. I’d probably go back to Norway, take over my piyāgē(father’s) hotel business. Experience new cultures and meet fascinating people.” His words were filled with hope and longing, a vision of a future that seemed so out of reach. But in that moment, dancing under the soft glowy lights, Oggy allowed himself to dream, to imagine a life beyond the shadows of his sickness. And for a brief moment, he felt a glimmer of solace in the midst of uncertainty. “How about you?”

✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ • ✧∭✧∰✧∭✧

@Mouschi • Devon Dearest • I feel like we need something to spice this up a bit :eyes:

4 Likes

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

Tae smiled when the man accepted his offer, unable to deny that he found the way in which he did so adorable, and he found himself blushing when he referred to him as a ‘handsome fellow’. “Well, maybe I can make the party a little more exciting for you.” He suggested with a playful smirk as he let him take his hands, leading him onto the dance floor.

There were few things in Tae’s life that he would say were easy but dancing with this man, that was easy. The hardest part was keeping his weight distribution equal because he liked this guy and how this was going and didn’t want to open the ‘I was injured in a car accident when I was 15’ can of worms just yet. His blush deepened as the man complemented his dancing and then asked if it would be too forward of him to ask his name. “Lucky for you, I’m in the habit of giving my name to people I find attractive. My name is Tae.” He responded with a playful smirk. “What about you? Do I get to ask for your name?” He asked, mimicking his tone. He then laughed as the man twirled him around.

“No, nothing like that.” Tae interjected when the man started wondering why he wanted to dance with him and started to come up with possible excuses that danced around the actual reason why he asked him to dance. “Your mask caught my attention and I wanted to get to know the person behind it. So far I think you’re exceeding all of my expectations.” He responded, looking his dance partner directly in the eyes. “I wouldn’t say that jazz would be the first thing I reach for but I have a few jazz records. They’re nice when I want to have a relaxing afternoon. What about you?”


@cordyx - Seung-Min

6 Likes

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Ayla swept into the grand ballroom, her heels clicking confidently against the polished floor. As she observed the dimly lit room, filled with masked figures clad in somber hues, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. The Ninth House had certainly outdone themselves with their interpretation of a grand welcoming ball, but it all seemed a bit too melancholy for her taste. The opulent decorations and ethereal lighting bathed the room in a magical glow, transporting her to another time and place. Ayla couldn’t help but feel a sense of superiority over those who adhered to tradition and monotony. With her confident aura and bold fashion choices, she exuded an air of power and individuality that set her apart from the rest.

Her eyes flitted around the room, taking in the intricate masks and regal attire of the attendees. A small smirk tugged at her lips as she noted her own outfit stood out like a beacon amidst the sea of darkness. Her pink and white dress, adorned with delicate flowers and showcasing her legs, was a stark contrast to the muted tones surrounding her.


Leaning against a pillar, Ayla watched the crowd with a detached air, her sharp eyes scanning the room for any hint of intrigue or amusement. It was then that she spotted her—a figure in a light blue dress that seemed to glow amidst the darkness of the room. The white butterfly mask perched delicately on her face added an air of whimsy to her ethereal appearance.

Something about the girl’s presence sparked a flicker of recognition in Ayla, a sense of familiarity that she couldn’t quite place. She observed the girl’s hesitant movements and lost expression. Without a second thought, she pushed off from the pillar and made her way towards the mysterious figure. “Excuse me?”

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Outfit


@Jass ✦ Lyra ✦ so excited!!

6 Likes

Copy of Copy of Silas (1)

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Amani loved playing games, everything was a game to her as most people would say, even the things she took seriously like her education were all just games in her mind; as after all, every good grade, every successful project, every achievement—it was all a victory in her game of life. And tonight, this little encounter with the mysterious masked man, and Jesse, it was just another level in her game of intrigue and excitement.

Her eyes shifted from both boys as she watched their conversations, restricting the urge to smile, because for some reason, she could feel fear tugging at her, she was soon going to hear something that she would not like, was she not?, that was what the fear filled her mind with and she could not understand where it was coming from-no, she could, she just did not want to understand because that would mean having to accept a possibility, a possibility of who the masked man was and Amani did not want to accept such possibility.

“Me? I was merely responding to your message, darling,” He spoke to her in a different tone that he used to speak to the masked man, Amani noted. That was Jesse’s usual tone actually, to most people- always lighthearted, always jest hidden somewhere in his words, it was quite similar to Amani’s tone with people, but of course much much nicer. But moreover that was Jesse’s usual tone, but the way he was speaking to the masked man, truly made the contempt he had for the masked man show itself.

And perhaps in a perfect world, since Amani knew Jesse, since they were friendly with each other- at least in a way fckbodies are, then Amani would have reacted accordingly, how one would be expected to react, she would have joined in on Jesse’s disdain for the masked man, she would have left with Jesse as she was the one who invited him after all or she would simply tried to stop the argument that was entertaining but at the same time irritating her due to how childish it all seemed. But that was what would have happened in a perfect world, this was the real world and in the real world, Amani loved to play games.

So she played, because she was entirely bored of the little prideful cat game of tongues unfolding before her. Truly, Amani would have to give the ‘conversation’, if one could call it that, this; there was some entertainment to it. The cocky banter and attempts at one upping one another’s insult were like watching two peacocks puffing up their feathers in an attempt to seem better and wittier than the other. So sassy, Amani thought, it will be fun to play a little as after all the night was still young.

She reeled in closer to the masked man, after she could not stop her laughter from one of Jesse’s comments, does sleeping with girls that don’t know who you are turn you on? that was actually quite amusing she would say, and Amani could not help but to ask the masked man if she knew him, because he seemed to know her to an extent. But instead of giving her a yes or no response, he had leaned into her ear and told her he could not answer that. Such a cryptic response, she did not know whether to be frustrated or not at the response, because though the answer was quite mysterious she knew what it meant, yes, he did in fact know her and for a second Amani thought of him again, but she shook her head. It could… not… be? No, no could it?

No, Amani decided to go with no, because any other answer than no would have been less than pleasant and the game would have had to stop so soon (then again she was already going to stop the game before Jesse arrived). She leaned in, pressing her lips at him, her eyes closed and her thoughts could not help but to think, would he have kissed like this?, not like she would know, and she hoped that she did not know. She pulled away, a foxy smirk pasted on her face, asking who should she keep entertained, it was more of rhetorical than a true question, she just wanted to see how he would react, and what did he think at this question. He had been quick to respond, telling her that she was supposed to be keeping him entertained as a finger of his reached towards her hair, twirling it. Amani removed the hand from her hair, dropping his hand to his lap as she smirked coyly. “Have I not entertained you enough?” She questioned, another rhetorical question, meant to continue the game. “What if I don’t want to keep entertaining you?” She questioned, whispering to him, “I tend to lose excitement quickly,” She told him, pulling herself away from him.

She had blinked hard, giving the masked man a look when he had called her Jesse’s girl. “I’m nobody’s girl,” Amani responded, raising a brow.

Suddenly, Amani had heard another voice from outside the room,and she arched another brow at that, wondering just what was going on in the party, but it seemed that she was not the only one filled with curiosity for Jesse also turned to the door, and with one last look at her and the masked man he left, but without Amani catching who he also named in his goodbyes, Vince, Vincenzo fcking Parravinco Russo.

Her and him- Vincenzo or the many names she also called him in her head, had once been something, not something like they were in a romantic relationship, but something that signified that they once were what people would consider close. He was the first person, she had become close to in this academy that was not a childhood or high school friend. They had bonded over a variety of things, and when Amani was not with Celestine or Tae, she was usually seen with Vinnie.

But that was before, no longer a now. She did not say anything for quite some time, no, instead she opted for dressing herself first, clothing that was once exposed, putting on all the jewelry she had also removed. Then she turned towards little ol Lex Luther, taking steps, steps closer to him.

She stopped in front of him, not saying anything, letting the silence be suffocating, before she reached out, grasping the edges of his mask. With a swift motion, she tore the mask from his face, revealing the man beneath. For a moment, she simply stared at him, her eyes blazing with an intensity that spoke volumes.

“You knew it was me, didn’t you?” She demanded, her voice laced with anger and accusation. “Does it turn you on,” She began, “To sleep with girls that don’t know who you are?” She said repeating what Jesse had said before he left. “But no, it’s not that, is it? It’s probably just because it’s me that it turns you on so much.” She took another step closer to him, her eyes still as fiery as ever, “You’ve been waiting for this a long time, have you not?” , The words hung heavy in the air, punctuating the tense silence between them. “Well, now that you finally got to do it, how did it feel?” But Amani did not wait for him to respond, no, instead she had struck him across the face with a force that echoed through the room.

“Your pathetic,” She spat out, “But you already knew that. Have you been following me like a lap dog? Hoping to get back into my good graces, to get back to when it was Amani and Vinnie, the good old days innit?” She whispered, “When I would throw you a bone each day, and you would wag your tail at all the bones thrown, because it made you think I truly cared for you, that we could have been more.” She continued, her voice dripped with disdain, “And perhaps, indeed I cared for you, it would have been a tragedy if I left you to be a stray- oh, wait, sorry you are already a stray aren’t you, an orphan, abandoned on the street, eternally and senselessly waiting for someone to return to.” Her tone got lower as she said, “Do you want me to be that person? The person you return to?” And for a moment, an unreadable expression crossed her features, before she shook it off.


@raviola- fren

9 Likes

꒰ ⋆ .⺌ ⟡ ⊂ sound of the bell ⊃ ⟡ ⺌. ⋆ ꒱

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“Is that an invitation for something a little bit intimate? Well, the night is still young! And I have a food baby that I need to tend. Hmmm, should it be the stuffed mushrooms or the charcuterie? Eh, I’ll just eat them all; food coma shall be my future me’s problem.” The dancefloor was immeasurable to Seung-min’s eyes, as the floor felt like it was spinning through every dancer they have passed by, illuminating the floor with every sequin sewn to the dresses they sweep. Looking at the man’s eye beneath the mask flushed his cheeks a light pink as the rhythm in their bodies synced through every beat that played against the beautiful backdrop. The elegance and rush of enjoyment through the dance slipped by seconds despite seeing some of the people going back to their positions with tired body language, signaling their true time.

Finally, a name was given to him. Tae, such a nice name, Seung-min thought as he looked into his eyes with such wonder. The compliment didn’t help, as he continued in with a flushed look that remained on his face. As both took a playful tone towards their talking, Seung-min matched his energy of blissful mischief by saying, “Nice to meet you, Tae. A name that represents greatness, and that explains why you have such a nice form—I mean! F-form in the sense that your dance is great, not your figure; I mean, well, you do look nice and have a great waist as well. Oh gosh, I’m rambling. But for my name…” Taking a small breath, he looked back at Tae as the corner of his lips curled with playfulness. “I’ll torture you a bit by not hinting at my name! Heh, I’ll give you clues, though! I wouldn’t want you to leave me with everything given to you—something to keep you coming back to me. Wait, that sounds wrong, but you get the point. The first hint is that it sounds like the word song.”

Tae’s reasons as to why he even came up to him gave him a form of excitement as a way of thinking that he’s doing a great job making friends and making his school year into a new and exciting future. The thought of making those memories scattered across his mind as his unwavering grin pushed on. “I’m glad to hear that! Honestly, I thought people wouldn’t come near me since I do look scary. I mean, just entering the ball, there was a mirror, and when I passed by, I thought somebody was following me. It scared me, and it took a little while to realize the man waving around was me, and I was actually wearing something out of my comfort zone. Then I went here and met a fine guy, hint hint you, so great luck for me.” Continuing the conversation, he looked around to give an answer to a question right above his alley, “Well, I like jazz. But honestly, I prefer something with a bit of an edge to it ya know? Something alternative or grungy or even just something to pump your spirits. I like those. I actually have tapes of those when I was kid, just listening through every record out there. Favorite one is recently Veruca Salt, I head their song in a movie once and never looked back. Do you have a song or genre you always listen on the bus, or something equivalent to a magic bus… like that flying car on the movie about the boy with a lightning scar, can’t recall the name though… But yeah, I love music! I write music too, and sing them, hint number two!” Deep in thought, he thought about a plan he always wanted to do for a long time. Something he saw in movies was about bands making a name for themselves. Still thinking about the movie’s name, he looked into Tae’s eyes with the same wonder.

With his plans stored in his head and wanting to make a great impression, he tapped Tae’s shoulder as he looked both left and right at the dancers slowly leaving the dance floor. With stars fluttering around his eyes, he gave a confident stride as he was going to make a plan bigger than what he usually plans on: “I have a bit of a crazy idea; I don’t know if the school ever does this, but I feel like I want to paint this school with a bit of color in their lives. But before being too crass about my actions, how about we go somewhere else, where there won’t be people looking at us? I have something that will shock you and change your life as you know it! It’s deffo going to make you see stars in your eyes!” Grabbing his hand, they move away from the ballroom as they move somewhere farther from the chatter and voices, but before the second turn, he stopped and looked back at Tae with a slight look of confusion. “Erm, do you, maybe, know a place where it’s quiet or something? I kinda realized this place is a bit too big for me, and we might get lost just 'cause of this.”

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@Caticorn - Tae

7 Likes

image


~•~•~


As Arya Laine Sellenova stepped onto the ancient cobblestones of the ancient courtyard of Ninth House, her gaze swept over the grand assembly unfolding before her. The sight of headmaster Dear, the faculty, and fellow students stirred a sense of familiar calm within her, a silent acknowledgement of the cyclical nature of the academy, that repeated itself every year. The Welcoming Day was always a spectacle to behold, marking not just the beginning of a new school year, but the revitalization of arcane energy that pulsed within the very walls of Wyndham College.

While the festivities of Welcoming Day carried an air of excitement for many, Arya found herself slightly detached, her thoughts drifting to the year ahead. Another academic cycle lay before her, with its inevitable challenges and victories. Not that she had any problem with challenges, as who will overtake them if not Arya?

Returning to Ninth House was a ritual she had grown used to, each year bringing new revelations and opportunities for growth. And each year proving yet again just how wise and powerful the Sellenova bloodline is.
Arya couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as she thought about returning for another round at Ninth House. It was a place where she had thrived, where she had honed her skills and experienced all the more.

As the headmaster took to the stage to address the gathered crowd, Arya’s attention shifted, to the disappearances, all that was happening around. Soon enough, her mind already started turning towards the upcoming Founder’s Masquerade Ball. The thought of the grand event brought a spark of excitement to her eyes, mixed with a hint of anticipation.

With meticulous attention to detail, Arya set her mask and dress for the evening, a delicate creation adorned with intricate patterns and subtle symbolism. As she slipped into her formal attire, Arya felt a sense of anticipation building within her, ready to immerse herself in the elegant spectacle of the Founder’s Masquerade Ball and embrace the mysteries waiting to be uncovered within the school’s hallowed halls.

As dusk fell and the grand ballroom was unveiled in all its wonder, Arya stepped into this realm of enchantment with a measured grace and a quiet confidence. The ethereal lighting cast a soft glow over the guests, their masked faces shrouded in mystery. Arya moved with the music through the crowd with a sense of purpose, her gaze lingering on familiar figures, some she were pleased with, some she would rather not see, even beneath the guise of fancy decorated masks.


@Madilnel when you’re free :kissing_heart:

6 Likes

Dante


“Ah, Celestine, you never fail to notice the finer details, do you?” Dante said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he acknowledged her observations. “Indeed, the sea of muted tones can be rather… uninspiring.”

Pausing for effect, he would then adopt a more mischievous tone. “But fear not, my dear, for amidst this ocean of blandness, you stand out like a neon sign in a dark alley,” he quipped, a playful smirk forming on his lips. “Who needs a 1967 Balenciaga oval dress when you have Celestine Beaumont setting the fashion standard?”

“As for your offer of a stylist,” Dante continued, his smirk widening, “I must confess, I’m quite content with my own sense of fashion. After all, black is timeless, mysterious, and oh-so-versatile.” His response playfully highlighted his confidence in his own style, while also acknowledging Celestine’s unique perspective on fashion and self-expression and some self-mockery of his style. Despite their differing tastes, Dante could admire Celestine’s ability to stand out and make a statement, even in a sea of muted tones.

Dante chuckled at Celestine’s playful comparison, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Comparing you to characters from a TV show I’ve never even seen? Now that’s a stretch,” he teased, his grin widening. “But if I had to guess, I’d say you’re more of a wildcard, Celestine. Too unpredictable to fit neatly into any predefined role.” He leaned in conspiratorially, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Let’s just say you keep me guessing, and that’s what makes this conversation so entertaining.”

Dante chuckled at Celestine’s remark about being comedian pyrite, his eyes gleaming mischievously. [color=#4b667d]“Ah, comedian pyrite,” he echoed, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I must say, that’s a new one. But hey, at least I’m sparking some laughter, right?” He flashed her a roguish grin. “Besides, I’d rather be a comedian pyrite than a dull diamond any day. After all, laughter is the best accessory, wouldn’t you agree?” He arched an eyebrow, waiting to see her reaction.

He listened attentively as she spoke about the garden, and how she defined adventure through her comparison. Dante felt like playing devil’s advocate to her logic, “Well, who’s to say everyone can see those five time more saturated shades? Maybe one must know where, and how to look to see,” He rubbed his chin as he continued speaking, “Maybe some people can just see the flowers for what they are, flowers, and is one to blame, or any less adventurous, for using them for scrapbooking if one doesn’t see behind the surface?” His thought process went quite philosophical, what he hinted at is, if one was simply so ignorant, or manipulated, or for whatever reason couldn’t see behind what appeared to be after first glace, are they to blame for not seeing behind the surface? “And as for your views not being world-shaking, well, who needs world-shaking when you’ve got style and grace like yours? Besides, I’ve always believed that it’s the subtle details that make the biggest impact.” With this response, Dante acknowledged Celestine’s observations while maintaining his playful banter and complimenting her elegance at the same time.

Dante chuckled softly, his arm instinctively wrapping around Celestine’s waist as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry, Celestine. You make quite the fabulous accessory yourself,” he teased, his tone light and playful. “I don’t need to worry about wearing all black when I’ve got you next to me, you shine enough for both of us.”

Dante responded to her comments about her not having any information other than the fact she dresses nicely, with a teasing smirk, his playful nature coming to the forefront. “Ah, so you’re the enigmatic mystery wrapped in a designer gown, then?” he quipped, his tone light but tinged with amusement. “But let’s be real here, Celestine. You’ve got to have some secrets up those perfectly tailored sleeves of yours. No one dresses that nice without a few tricks hidden away.” His words carried a hint of skepticism, teasing Celestine while also subtly challenging her to reveal more about herself. It was all in good fun, a way to keep the conversation lively and engaging.

“That’s what you think” Dante said as she said she believed she didn’t say anything incriminating. With a playful grin, Dante would gently tease Celestine in response. “Oh, so now I’m the one who needs a lesson in elegance and manners? I believe it was you who went on those long, delightful rambles, my dear,” he quipped, his tone light and teasing. “But hey, I’ll take your advice to heart. Maybe I’ll start by practicing my curtseys and sipping tea with my pinky out.” He said as he acted it out, he brought a lightheartedness back in the conversation, wanting to make sure, that even if it was safer to talk outside, they didn’t stood out too much.

Dante chuckled at Celestine’s remark, finding humor in her comparison to the president. “Ah, yes, the thrilling adventures of school garden escapades,” He gave her a mischievous smile as he continued, whispering in her lucky, “Lucky for us, what we are about to embark on is far more interesting than a garden escapade” He said, after which he subtly guided her to the side of the school building. That’s where he took off his mask, he wasn’t quite certain whether Celestine knew who he was, but it was time to reveal himself.


@cordyx - Celestine

4 Likes

Lyra


Lyra was feeling a bit lost, until she noticed someone coming up to her. Upon recognizing the figure in the white and pink dress, Lyra’s heart skipped a beat. A sense of warmth and relief washed over her, knowing it was her cousin, Ayla, approaching her. Despite the anonymity of the mask, Lyra could feel a familiar connection in the air, she could pick out her cousin from across the room.

As Ayla made her way through the crowd towards her, she straightened her posture, a smile lighting up her features as she watched the girl approach. Relief flooded her senses, knowing she wouldn’t be navigating the ballroom alone anymore. “Ayla,” she breathed out, her voice a mixture of surprise and joy, “I’m so glad it’s you.”

“I was feeling a bit lost in this crowd, but seeing you here makes everything better.” She extended her arms for a hug, eager to embrace the presence of her cousin amidst the whirl of the masquerade ball. “You look stunning!” The cousins hadn’t always had the best of a relationship, however, Lyra deeply valued her cousin, she was family after all, and that connected them by default.


Ayla | @Tina.G

5 Likes

celestine beaumont

hit the road jack

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“Is the neon signage saying ‘Girls Girls Girls’ or ‘Imminent Danger’? I really can’t tell.” Celestine’s tone added a sense of boredom with each conversation becoming quite dull. It was as if she was sensing it would come to a conversation about weather, or maybe even just clothes. “Besides, I do like muted tones. It’s just that, and I do suggest that people try to spice it up a bit. As they all say, the world is your oyster.” Her sense of boredom was once drained however once he had mentioned the 1967 Balenciaga oval dress, she added to her comment, “To be frank, I do. Have you seen that dress? It’s amazing—a craft of artistry I would die to just wear to an event.” Looking back at him, her look softened with the compliment as she thought of her style being a little too… late for modern taste. “But you flatter me too much; I am no fashion standard when the styles I’ve been wearing are around 50 years too late. If anything, praise Mary Quant. I’m simply a lover of fashion rather than being the standard that causes too much headache and responsibility.”

Looking from his shoes to the mask that he wore, she re-examined his outfit for further inspection as his comment on the timelessness of a black outfit regurgitated from the back of her mind. With a silent chuckle, she shook her head ever so slightly as she looked back at his direction to give the dreadful news on her opinion to his style, "But not all black is slimming, don’t you think? You can throw in leather as much as you want, but there is a sense of suave if you know what articles of black garments would look good. Rather than just wearing something so plain that represents indecisiveness. And lack of creativity, may I add? A quick inspection ran through her head once more as her urge of wanting a new look on his style grew stronger. “Are you quite sure you don’t need a stylist? I have so many contacts that can transform you from greasy greaser to James Dean extraordinaire. You could even rock an all-leather detective suit for the next party. It’s hot. Literally. But it gets the message to the crowd. If you want mobility, I can even substitute the leather pants for chaps.”

With Dante’s confirmation of cluelessness to the references she had pulled out, she let out a laugh, ever so restrained to control the volume that may come out of her mouth. Wiping the imaginary tears from the mask that she wears, her attitude hinged on such grace yet hinted a sense of mischief with her achievement in at least ruffling that proud demeanor, “And you were playing along with what I have said; you were so lucky I made some description of their character. Not so lucky with the recent comment, I guess, but it seems that I did that to mess you up a bit. Quite entertaining, if you ask me…”

With the same cadence of grace she had held up, she only gave him a simple chuckle as she took a sip from her drink that was almost empty. Even with her graceful demeanor, it seems that time took a toll on entertaining him, making her disinterest slip in and out with some of her words slurring like a pompous old lady who had a little too much to drink. Flipping the few curls that cascaded in her hair, her voice rang in a sarcastic tone. “If you were a jester, yeah, a great accessory. But who would want to be fool’s gold or an overpriced piece of carbon?” Tapping on his shoulder, she added to her comment, “If you are to accessorize yourself, you might as well focus on the craftsmanship and a truly worthy piece of mineral. Not to say anything, but a bit of workshop is needed on that ‘comedy pyrite’ you easily accept for your roster.”

As though the conversation shifted and she saw a difference in his cadence, she stood in disbelief that he could actually talk to her seriously without his one-note jokester tone. Even with her angered stance, the shift made her fix her dress subtly as she thought hard about his insights. Keeping up the appearances, she looked at him with the same serious gaze. “Even if they are, one should not underestimate humans and their awareness of their surroundings. The gardens are unforgiving, yes, but even if they are not able to see the vibrant colors of the surroundings, they are able to see the difference in shades, are they not? Even if they are not aware of that, they could see a weird specimen of flowers or even just their setup.” She stopped for a while as she could not answer the final question. She agree that not all are aware of what goes underneath, yet she wanted to focus on the subject on people whom seek a peaceful admiration rather than adventure, “Yes, not all are aware of the garden’s nature and see the flowers as only flowers, and I am not blaming them for that. I am saying that people may not seek adventure in the gardens and simply prefer to admire their surroundings. The garden’s purpose is its culmination in flora and beauty, and they will use that advantage; not all of them would go around prancing in the gardens to peruse its secrets. I’m sure when the garden sees that one uses their surface beauty, they won’t suck them into its secrets unwillingly. As I said, not all are adventurous types and do not seek adventures.”

The change in tone in the conversation did calm her, as if the platforms she saw were leveling to an equal degree. She appreciated like-minded conversations, but her smile did quickly fade once she saw the sign of going back to the usual conversation she was once relegated to, her style. It is not unusual for anyone to compliment her style, and yet Dante had not dropped the emphasis on her style. Slightly defeated, she gave a formal tone to deflect his playful manner of speech. “You made it seem like I was the only girl in this ball to view things the way I view things in this world, and that is simply not the case.” Emphasizing her dissatisfaction on his overtly emphasis on her looks, she responded back with a hint of disappointment, "You make too many details about my surface appearance; does that mean that my merit is only determined by style and not by the fact that I share the viewpoints of people who have walked the same path as me? Subtlety works, but a butterfly effect takes place once that simple gesture turns into that world shaking view. "

With some form of amusement to his comment, she gave out a grin with his comment as she thought of the obvious. Yes, she does have secrets, but not more than average. Sure, they were slightly unconventional secrets, but they are secrets meant to be hidden until she too will sleep six feet under. “An enigma wrapped in Roberto Capucci, eh?” Celestine raised her head in slight amusement, continuing on with her statement. “But I will not confirm nor deny such comments on that. Your comment hinges on some truths though; there are secrets, but no one is oblivious to show their cards to a person they don’t even know that much about. Plus, everyone here has a secrets, that would be like telling someone that they may have blinked!” Continuing on his comments on her style, she redirected the question back to his style as she waved her finger around his suit, “I mean, a well-tailored outfit can be an advantage for making connections and keeping secrets. Speaking of suits, are you willing to show your secrets as well, enigma wrapped in black rags?”

As both walked slowly outside the ballroom and into the gardens, both playing the doting couples to get out of the scenery, she found some hits in his comments to throw him off his game. Keeping the light tone, she dramatically exclaimed to him as the background of the ballroom dissipated. “My mother used to say that men use women like shiny accessories to show them around like trophies. Dress them up in glitter; they’d be the belle of the ball.” Pretending a shock on her face, she hurriedly added an exaggerated remark on her statement, “Is that why you’re wear something so plain? So that I would be nothing but a piece of jewelry on your wrist? Is that what you’re insinuating?”

Soon enough, they had reached the gardens, albeit from the outside walls of the garden’s hedges, as both looked for the entrance. It was dark, and the lights that should illuminate the campus were ever so dim as to make it harder to discern who would appear and disappear. It was truly a safe spot, hearing nothing but the rustle of the leaves and crickets from afar. Her demeanor was still riddled with thoughts of doubt and contemplation, however, as she re-evaluated every single detail that could ruin Beaumont’s name. Dante had replied, and within his first comment, she grew worried that he may have seen some flaws that could incriminate her. She awaited for his observations, yet found his usual playful behavior. Hearing every comment with his sunny disposition had struck a nerve within her system. That demeaning “my dear,” the teasing, and the way he was nonchalant made it seem like he didn’t even care about her feelings. Here she was, formal yet showing signs of worry, and yet he had given her nothing but playful banter and a hit on her character. She had soon found it worthless to be so formal in a place where little people could hear, and as she turned back, with her calm face scrunched in anger, she flicked the pinky from his “demonstration” of drinking tea and pushed him hard from the hedges. “You think this little game with your teacup pinkies makes me the one who’s not on their right mind, huh? I did not spend seventeen-fcking years just for you to belittle me on what I have learned, just for you to label me as what—a hypocrite? This whole fcking night, you made sure to make me small in all forms that matter, making it seem like I’m this- Prissy Little Princess in Gold!” Coming closer as she huffed, she poked Dante’s chest with every diction of emphasis on the rage she had felt. There was no turning back, and she had been the one to snap once again, “I had to endure every single hollow conversation you hit me with and I’ve been courteous about it, dearie. I made sure to entertain you with all your weak @ss comments and I was elegant doing it, dearie. There have been longer rambles made by god knows how many upper crusts I’ve met and endured, yet I’m the one who is not graceful and courteous? Do not make me the one who needs the training because I have been doing this longer than what you have done, my shtty dearie!”

As though the world had spun from the words she spewed out, she grew tired. A sense of dizziness had hit her as the reality of the situation grounded her back into the world. A lady once regarded for her elegance and perfection was marked down by her meltdown, and she was truly fearful of what may come out of the situation. Looking into the man with blurry vision forming in her eyes, she closed them as she turned back to slump on the hedges as well. Her tired body, unchanging, let out a weak voice as she turned slightly. “I need a breather. Just… don’t touch me.”

There was a passage of time with a silence far different from the silence before that. Despite his light-hearted tone, she couldn’t muster up words as her sense of defeat grew wider than she had anticipated. Despite her silence, she complied with his words as she followed him to the side of the school building. Once at the edge, she had slumped once more on the walls with her eyes closed, tired of it all. Her invigoration to move forward, however, was a sound of a thud from behind her, as she had sensed that he had finally mustered up some revelation about who he was. By that point, she knew, and with her tired words, she responded to the sound with her back turned. “And so the mask has fallen down.” A split second of silence had formed, but she continued on as her voice grew stronger, “Maybe it’s just how my mind works, but I’ve been deducing who the hell you’re supposed to be from the start.” Again, a silence took place, but she would soon move from left to right as she started to deduce her information, “There are at least, what, four groups? Two I’ve omitted: I’ve never met anyone who fits the description of a cocky man in Quantum and certainly no carefree @ssholes in Ciphers. I’ve met dazzling personalities from Enigma and Umbra, yet I had a hunch on one of the groups, especially with the help of one great friend who always would describe to me who and what they were dealing with.” From that point, she had regained her usual composure as her voice went back to the graceful diction she and others were familiar with. With a tone signaling a smile, she pushed forward, “Couldn’t be from Enigma since I have not recalled a demeanor similar to descriptions I have noted in my mind, some close but no cigar. The aforementioned demeanor suggests a sense of carefree and brash idiocy, something familiar and shared with one particular… bro group. And which of the group is known to be a sort of brotherhood, care to answer?” It was a rhetorical question she had asked, but she awaited if he had any comments, only to cut him off if she had even heard a huff of air coming out of his mouth. “You may have sensed that I have had a hunch on who you are, noting the fact that professors aren’t necessarily fond of you and your antics. Of course, I am familiar with you, so your voice and stature aren’t strange anomalies. And with my rambling, I would guess that the person behind me would be Mr. Dante Blackwell.” Turning back, she looked at him dead on as she let out a small chuckle, confident that she has not yet faltered, more so with her instincts.

“It was quite a bold decision to reveal underneath the dull mask, but it would be stupid of me to do the same thing as well. You have been sloppy to name me a few times, even though I am aware I stick out in a flock of birds, but it is courtesy to not name a masked stranger unless I have given mine and yours.” That grin on her face was obvious, even with her mask. But as her grin faded out, she took a long thought as she sighed in pity. “I would laugh at you and refuse to even open my mask, but I know I will not hear the end of this once we resurface at the ball. And so I will comply, and once more, do so out of spite.” Pulling the golden ribbon from behind her head, she carefully pulled her mask so as not to tangle her hair or make her appearance unseemly. Fixing the back of her hair, she gave a simple curtsy as she held both of her arms in anticipation.“Now that our identities are vulnerable to the environment, I would assume the next step would be to follow this… adventure you speak of. If this is your definition of an embarkment more thrilling than strolling to the gardens, I will laugh and go back to the ballroom as I please as if nothing had happened here.”

━─━────༺༻────━─━

@Jass - Dante

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Renlin

Renlin pondered whether his spur-of-the-moment speech was a good idea. Maybe it would get everyone talking, and stir up something that needed to happen. Despite the uncertainty, he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that speaking up was the right thing to do.

It wasn’t just about voicing his suspicions; it was about sparking a conversation that could potentially uncover truths hidden beneath the surface. With each passing moment of silence, the tension in the room seemed to grow, amplifying the magnitude of his words.

Renlin scanned the crowd, searching for any sign of agreement or acknowledgment from his peers. A few faces seemed to raise their eyebrows, even maybe a nod, in silent understanding, but most remained impassive, their expressions unreadable.

As he continued to observe, Renlin noticed several professors making their way towards him, their expressions a mix of concern. He offered them a friendly finger wave and a toothy grin, hoping to alleviate any tension that his speech may have caused. However, before he could exchange more than a fleeting greeting, he felt gentle hands on his shoulders, guiding him aside.

Turning to see Jesse at his side. It was as if Jesse had anticipated the need to intervene, stepping in with effortless grace to redirect the conversation. His words flowed smoothly, carrying the crowd along with his easy charm and wit.

Renlin found himself being gently guided away by Jesse. As they navigated through the crowd, Renlin struggled to articulate his reasons for speaking out. In truth, he wasn’t entirely sure himself. It was unlike him to address the entire school in such a manner, baring his thoughts and uncertainties for all to see.

Usually, Renlin’s speeches were lighthearted, peppered with witty jokes and puns, those of the dad type of joke. But tonight was different. Tonight, something had compelled him to speak from the heart, to voice the doubts and suspicions that had been gnawing at him.

As they reached a quieter corner of the room, Renlin glanced at Jesse, searching for understanding in his friend’s eyes.

“I don’t know why I did it,” Renlin admitted, his voice barely above a whisper amidst the din of the party. "It just…felt like the right thing to do, you know? In that moment, surrounded by the bustling energy of the masquerade, Renlin felt a sense of gratitude for his friend’s support. “I… I just wanted to know if anyone else felt the same way,”

Jesse’s expression filled with understanding as he straightend his blazer. “You weren’t going to get any answer you wanted like that, Ren.” Renlin nodded, his thoughts swimming as he started to sink back into himself. He knew Jesse was right, but the urge to seek validation from others still gnawed at him.

Renlin flashed a lopsided grin at Jesse, the glint of mischief returning to his eyes. “I think I need something stronger than water to wash away the embarrassment,” he quipped, his playful demeanor masking the lingering unease beneath the surface. With a wink, he straightened his posture, channeling Jesse’s confidence as he prepared to face the rest of the evening head-on.

“Don’t worry, I’ll ask for extra ice,” Renlin replied with a chuckle, his words tinged with a hint of self-awareness. “Gotta balance out the alcohol somehow, right?” Despite his attempt at lightening the mood, there was a subtle edge to his tone, a reminder of the lingering effects of his speech.

“What would I do without you?” Renlin quipped, offering Jesse a grateful smile. “You came in like my own personal Superman. What were you doing before you rescued me?” He chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood further. “And how has your night been so far? Hopefully less eventful than mine.”

@novella suppaman

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Copy of Black Minimal Motivation Quote LinkedIn Banner (1)

Inessa’s heart warmed at Thalia’s kind words. “Thanks, Thalia, I appreciate that. You’re a sweet soul, you know that?” Inessa made acknowledgment of Thalia’s compassionate nature. Inessa knew that in Thalia, she had a steadfast companion who would always be there to offer support and kindness.

She brushed aside the notion of seeking support or assistance, convinced that she had everything firmly in hand. In her mind, vulnerability was a foreign concept, and her immaculate facade left no room for doubt. Inessa harbored no doubt in her current abilities or what the future held. Over the years, she had gained a wealth of knowledge thanks to those she kept in company with and the stories she had read, especially during this summer. She sh worked to equip herself with a versatile set of tools to navigate any challenge that may come her way. If needed, she was more than prepared to harness these resources.

Inessa put on her most charming smile and took a sip of her drink, savoring it slowly as she listened intently to her friend. The liquid flowed smoothly down her throat, its liquid spreading through her body, calming her mind. She let herself be enveloped in the conversation, finding solace in the familiar rhythm of Thalia’s voice.

Thalia’s voice, like silk, wrapped around Inessa. She understood why so many people enjoyed Thalia’s presence. Despite her quiet demeanor and tendency to keep to herself, Thalia exuded warmth, radiating an aura of approachability. Thalia was in no way a threat, only a gentle allyship.

“Oh, it was just my old lover,” Inessa replied casually with a wink, her smile masking any deeper emotions into the conversation. “You guys were sure to meet before, right? It wasn’t much, just some kindness sent his way and some advice sent mine. Wishing me a great school year, you know, nothing too deep.” Inessa’s tone remained light and nonchalant, keeping any hint of significance concealed beneath the surface. She didn’t want to give too much away, preferring to maintain an air of casualness about the encounter.

Feeling Thalia’s hand grasp hers tightly, Inessa’s gaze shifted downwards. nessa’s mind briefly wandered, contemplating the gesture.

“No trouble here!” Inessa exclaimed, crossing her heart with her free hand. “Maybe the power of friendship will work on our side,” “In that case, I’m glad to have you by my side,” Inessa replied warmly, returning Thalia’s playful banter.

"Brothers can be quite unpredictable, it seems.

Almost as if on cue, Inessa heard her brother’s voice above all, prompting an exaggerated eye roll from her. With determination in her gaze, Inessa turned her body, ready to confront him. Under her breath, she mumbled something about fixing everything, a mix of frustration and determination coating her words. Despite the interruption, Inessa remained resolute, prepared to address whatever unexpected situation her brother had brought upon them.

As Inessa stood ready to intervene, she was relieved when Jesse stepped in to handle the situation. She couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on her. Were they wondering if her brother had gone crazy over the summer and if she was next? Inessa pushed aside the intrusive thoughts and raised the rest of her glass, joining in the applause as Jesse finished talking. She looked around, encouraging everyone else to join in, eager to shift the focus back to the festivities and away from any lingering speculation.

Inessa excused herself with a determined nod. “I should go check on him. God knows what gave him the idea to do that. We’ll see each other soon! Love you, have a great night,” she said, offering Thalia a smile before heading off to address her brother’s antics. With a sense of resolve, Inessa navigated through the crowd, her thoughts already occupied with the task ahead.

Inessa’s plans to check on her brother were quickly forgotten as she found herself standing face to face with an old friend, the oldest friend she had. Inessa felt a rush of nostalgia wash over her.

“Arya!” Inessa exclaimed, her arms instinctively wrapping around the girl. She took in Arya’s striking appearance, dressed in light purple that contrasted beautifully with the darkness of the architecture surrounding them. The sight of her oldest friend filled Inessa with a sense of warmth and familiarity. '“You look breathtaking,” Inessa remarked, her admiration evident in her voice. “Did you cut your hair?”

@Kristi thalia :slight_smile:
@CerealKiller ARYA!!!

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•]•·✦º✦·» ✦ «·✦º✦·•[•

•]•·✦º✦·» ✦ «·✦º✦·•[•

“Likewise, Lyra,” Ayla replied, her voice tinged with a hint of genuine warmth. It was a boring dress in her opinion, unlike Ayla’s pink and white flare for dramatic, a sore thumb in the crowd. She kept that opinion to herself though. Ayla was not one for displays of emotion, especially in public settings like this. That was how she smoothly ended the hug, still holding Lyra lightly by the shoulders as she took in her cousins lovely dress.

“I must say though, it was… strange hearing about the students who are missing. It made me think of,” Ayla cut off sharply, before regaining herself. “Lysander, who made me think of Alexander. Who—who would be…proud, of us for coming.” The mention of Lysander and Alexander brought a shadow of sadness to her features, a heaviness weighing on her heart. But she pushed through. She forced a smile. It looked real. She had practiced in front of the mirror countless times.

Her hands clasped behind her back, a subtle gesture to ground herself as she navigated the memories of her lost loved ones. Ayla’s shoulders rose in a slight shrug, a defense mechanism to downplay the emotions bubbling under the surface. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go there,” she deflected, her voice steady but with a hint of vulnerability. “Big life events usually make me think of him.” Ayla swiftly shifted the conversation back to a more positive note. “I do want to say how cool it is we’re going to school together. You definitely influenced my decision to come.”

•]•·✦º✦·» ✦ «·✦º✦·•[•

@Jass ✦ Lyra

3 Likes

Hayes New

{ ball / leaving Freya }

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“And you know better, I’m guessing?” It wasn’t that hard not to miss a hint of skepticism in the girl’s voice. And to answer that question - yes, he does know better. And Hayes hopes that soon everyone else will know exactly what he was thinking at that moment. Well… To really answer her question… Yes, he also knows better than to waste his time on getting intoxicated and being friendly with everyone. That’s what teenage years are for, what this year is for is something completely different. Completely different from everything he’d been doing in this institution these past few years.

”One learns quickly in this environment,“ Hayes replied almost cryptically, his tone betraying little emotion. What he did not like about this moment is that he could not read the person he was talking to. Could not see if that could’ve been someone who could truly understand him, and not just the words he’d been using in this interaction.

As Freya’s attention shifted back to the crowd, Hayes followed. His gaze swept over the sea of faces with detached interest. Most of them he did not care about nor did they care about him - didn’t one of his friends, or simply frenemies call him a creep? Yet, he still wanted to save them all. Reaching for the cigarette pack in his pocket, he found himself smiling at the girl’s words, her jest about the loud music and bustling crowds. He had to appreciate the subtle humor in her words. ”Yeah,“ Hayes mumbled, that one cigarette resting between his lips stopping him from speaking normally.

As the smoke curled lazily from the tip of his cigarette, Hayes took a drag, the ember glowing briefly, matching the light of candles in the ballroom. ”The loud music and bustling crowds,“ he simply repeated her words, not getting the answer he might’ve been looking for. And what exactly was he expecting? Whatever it was he should’ve known better - like this he will never get it. ”But considering how this all works, I can’t exactly claim obligation, can I? It’s not like anyone would notice if someone went missing,“ words followed by a shrug of his shoulders, exhaling a cloud of smoke. ”You never know when it can happen-“ Getting a little lost in his thoughts he was ready to go on about the current event the headmaster talked about but something or someone caught his attention.

A girl.
A girl who just seemed so familiar. A feeling of something not being right. Something felt off.
”Excuse me,“ he murmured abruptly, a hint of urgency lacing his tone as he stepped away from Freya. Without another word, Hayes retreated into the crowd, his mind consumed by thoughts of the mysterious girl and the unsettling familiarity she evoked. That was until he noticed her collapsing and the path to her got blocked. A chance to see who it was lost.

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@/novella - Freya
+someoneee

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