Ninth House | Official RP Thread

[Madilnel]

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
@CerealKiller ARYA!!!

[Tina.G]

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“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

[astxrism]

{ 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

[Kristi]

[[༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ] ]

“Brothers can be quite unpredictable, it seems”

As if fate were waiting for Inessa to say those words, Renlin seized the spotlight with a microphone in his hand. There was a quickness to it, a quick swiftness to how fast Thalia’s head had snapped towards the stage, her expression filled with a mix of surprise and apprehension. Just what was he up to? she pondered silently as Renlin launched into his speech.

Oh, was all Thalia could say, Oh. He was drunk, that much was obvious, but none of his words were wrong. ‘Oh right, they can’t answer because they aren’t here. And here we all are just okay with that? Is that okay’? No, it was not ok. It was not ok that no one was saying anything about what had happened to the victims, this past years, that people seemed to be shrugging it off as ‘just another incident’ no worries filling their minds, It wasn’t okay that Headmaster Dear showed such disinterest in addressing the matter, his words devoid of genuine concern. His speeches felt rehearsed, devoid of sincerity—as if he were reciting from a script to fulfill a mere obligation.

But such was the reality of those in power, wasn’t it? Their indifference toward those they deemed beneath them was a bitter truth. But then again, did those beneath even care about their peers?

No, that was the answer, as cold and bitter as it was.

Thalia scanned the faces of her fellow students, searching for any sign of dissent or discomfort, but found none. Most seemed content to let Renlin’s words wash over them, dismissing them as the drunken ramblings of a troubled soul. None of them truly cared, did they? They were nervous, perhaps even scared, but their concern was solely for their own well-being, not for the fate of Miles North and the other missing individuals. Most people, truly did not care for their peers.

When Inessa had left from her side, Thalia had not noticed, she had not even noticed that Renlin’s speech had halted, and that someone had come to his side, because her attention was on a completely different thing. She poured herself another drink, raising her glass to herself in a silent toast. “Cheers to Miles and Serafina,” she murmured under her breath, a solemn vow echoing in her mind. She was going to find out what happened, what happened to them, and hopefully she will find them and also who she had come here to find. After all, there had to be an explanation for all of this, right?

Right, there was always an explanation, even if it did not make sense. Her fingers traced the outline of her pendant, with one hand she had clutched it tightly, bringing it closer to her heart than it already was. The pendant had always been a source of comfort for Thalia, a reminder that everything would be okay. And she hoped fervently that it would hold true for Miles and Serafina. “I hope you’re okay,” she whispered, her words lost in the din of the party. “Be ok,” She rephrased with a sigh.

With a deep breath, Thalia drained her glass in a single motion, relishing the warmth that spread through her veins. It was a welcome distraction from the turmoil in her mind. Pouring herself another drink, she resolved to bury her worries at the bottom of the bottle, if only for a little while longer. Three more glasses followed, each one carrying her further into the comforting embrace of intoxication. Two, three, four—Thalia did not know how many drinks she had drunk, but she knew it was quite a lot. She pushed herself away from the table because she knew, against her better judgment, that if she did not leave, she would not be able to restrain herself from taking another sip. So she left the drinking table, and unto the dance floor she found herself, her head slightly swimming with each steps she took. The pulsating music filled her ears, drowning out the chaotic thoughts swirling in her mind. She moved with the rhythm, letting the music wash over her and clear her mind. Music always had a way of relaxing the mind, did it not?

But sadly, it seemed that she would have to stop dancing and only listen to the calming music because the fatigue began to catch up with her. Thalia leaned against a nearby wall, removing her camera from her bag. With slightly unsteady hands, she swiped through the photos she had taken earlier, searching for a distraction. She sighed, holding the camera in her hand as she looked up to people passing by, making loud noises that drowned out the music. Those people left, thankfully, they had left and opened Thalia’s view towards a mysterious girl with medium length choppy brown hair and interesting eyes. She wore a black dress, and a black masks, and she did not seem to fit in with the crowd at all, there was something about her, something that Thalia could not quite place her fingers on her with her intoxicated mind that led her to believe that this girl was a true outsider. It was not a bad thing, no, at least Thalia did not mean it in a bad way, she meant it in an inexplicable way. But there was just something about the girl in front of her, that seemed so genuine yet far out of reach about her.

Thalia did not know when or how her hands had lifted her camera up, aiming it discreetly at the girl, snapping a photo before she could be noticed. But it seemed that Thalia had not been quite as discreet as she planned to be, for the lady began to approach her, and Thalia’s eyes tried to look at everywhere but her. She found herself, hurriedly, putting her camera inside her bag, then trying to leave the scene, but instead of letting her leave the lady had stopped her. “Can I help you with something?” Thalia said feigning ignorance, “Sorry-” Thalia began, “My mind has just been a bunch of had been’s and had not’s,” Thalia said trying to crack a joke, or at least weird the girl out enough for her to leave. The numerous drinks that Thalia took were definitely helping. “So,” Thalia began, She glanced around the room, searching for inspiration, her mind racing to find a suitable distraction. “So, I’ve heard the food at this ball has been more than great. How about you go and try out some pastries, and we can catch up later?” Thalia suggested, scanning the room for an escape route while attempting to divert the conversation.

---

@novella - FREYAA

mentioned:

@Madilnel - Inessa and renlin

[raviola]

---

The girl’s expressions, her dialogue, they were confident, but something about that security did not quite land. She seemed, like him, to hide something behind her flirtation, perhaps uncertainty. Had she finally started to doubt him? He thought about it, the smile in his eyes unfaltering. Not when he was looking at her, at least.

When he saw Jesse, though, it definitely did. He flirted with her with that incessant smile of his. Vincenzo wished he could wipe it off his face, but due to his position, he could hardly move without passing a level of indecency even he did not approve. He had little choice but to watch and listen, which of course Jesse had to insult him the moment he had something to say, even though he sounded a bit more like one of the nuns back home than a rival.

Given, it was an insult. But he said something that barely jabbed him. Jesse knew he was a snob, everyone knew that most of the Wyndham students were snobs. He wasn’t telling any new information, but Jesse was. His usage of ‘bud’ (shudders) became redundant following his next sentence.

“It should have been you in that shithole.” He growled, his knuckles flaring as he tightened his fist by his side.

“You don’t want a real reason to fear me.” Vincenzo warned, referring to an old and dusty allegory only Jesse would remember. “It’d be nice to have some fucking privacy back, too.”

His dialogue seemed to forget Amani’s presence between them. Frankly, he had lost a care that she was there in that moment. Because he spoke on the offensive to Jesse, but Vincenzo was hurt. He was hurt that Jesse had done wrong by him, but he was happier. Things fell into place for him, for no reason, but instead of being gracious and allowing others to have their attempts to reach the greatness he was boosted into, he tore them down. Not because he had to, just because he could.

And it made him feel alone. Like within his clenched fists, there was a curse running through his bulging veins, a black mist soaring through his blood that prevented him from amounting to anything. The only escape was to cut it open, and in the process, lose his vitality. The only coping possible was unattainable and insane, so what was he to do with it? Cry? No, that never got him anything. All he could do was displace his anger in beer bottles turned to broken glass, in blood on his palms, in the woman in front of him.

He glanced to her again, his eyes darker than before. The iceberg in his stare had been melted, there was only an ocean to drown in. He watched her be coy when the heat of the moment mellowed, immune to their emotions and enveloped in her own. So cynical, so beautiful, so vain. She still wore her mask, but something within him saw behind it, erasing its outline in his mind to reveal her high cheekbones, and strong brows; her real self, the girl he used to know.

At the very least, she seemed to ignore his affection, keeping a more keen, quiet observation. Her delicate features concaved; narrow eyes, furrowed brows, she looked at the other man quite skeptically. Vinnie found it enjoyable, until she laughed at his apparent joke. Does sleeping with girls that don’t know who you are turn you on? The answer seemed a bit obvious, and defective, so he hardly replied, nodding once to agree, scoffing at his next insinuation, and then looking to Amani, watching her reaction to his reply.

For a brief second, their eyes met. Somehow, it was much more intimate than anything else they had done that night. He didn’t tell her he knew her, but the truth seemed quite simple. A semblance of fear seemed to ignite in her eyes, like her body begged her to redress and forget his touch because it was not one she ever wanted to feel.
But Vinnie did not look away. Instead, he held his gaze, a bit pleased by her discomfort, and a smirk grew on his lips.
That one was not for the woman he saw wearing the mask, but the girl hiding behind it.
In that distorted moment, they were Vincenzo and Amani once again.

She kept teasing him anyway, even kissing his lips. A kiss he returned gladly, but didn’t quite understand. She could have been oblivious, but she wasn’t. Amani was too smart for oblivion, but he supposed she must have been sheepish enough for denial. She put his hand down from her hair, and he shook his head, letting her whisper in his ear. I tend to lose excitement quickly.

“Is that why you have two guys in your bedroom right now?” He teased.

I’m nobody’s girl, she clarified after Jesse’s comment. He looked back to her, away from him, and offered an explanation. “Not you, Angel. Probably the others, too.” He turned back to Jesse. “I’m assuming she’s not the only one either, is she? You’re hardly ever satisfied, after all.” He said, talking about Amani in her presence. He wondered how she’d feel about that.

After what felt like an eternity, Jesse was leaving at last. He bid his adieu to Amani, thank god, not him, thank god, and then just as he put a foot out the door, the ball dropped.

You and Vince have a good night.

Vincenzo did not know what he had expected to happen in that moment, perhaps anger, perhaps surprise, maybe she was going to go off, but she did none of that. She just stood, and began to put her outfit back on. He watched, and wondered what her reasoning could have been. Did she know who he was instead?

He shrugged it off, putting his clothes back on as well when she did. After pulling up his trousers, and passing his shirt over his head, he was about to redo the silver chains across his shirt, before she spoke again. He looked up, and Amani stared at him for a minute, just like before, then ripped his mask off, throwing it to the side. He closed his lips, and let her rant. She spoke, came nearer, spoke again, and then slapped him, turning his head in the other direction.

“I didn’t know who you were. Not in the beginning.” He replied, devoid of emotion, remaining calm out of guilt. “But I figured it out. I think you made it pretty obvious with the proud little tattoo you have on your back.” Vincenzo replied. And if Amani was as smart as she claimed to be, she’d put together the correlation between when he saw her back, and his change in behavior. He wasn’t proud of it, but his emotions took control. Again.

She spoke again, unrelenting. Despite his previous remorse, he felt her anger lose its space within reason. “I don’t want to go back to the ‘good days’ because they didn’t mean anything. You’re a shit friend, and so is your boyfriend.” He referred to Jesse, well aware they weren’t a couple, but he wanted to bother her a bit more. “You don’t like that?” Vinnie taunted, then raising his hand to his face. “I must have forgotten. You’re not allowed to have a boyfriend, only your fiancee that you cheat on every chance you get. And why would I follow someone like that?" He paused. "I wanted a dance. That’s all it was supposed to be.” Vincenzo mirrored her tone, contemplating how bad he wanted to sear the burns on their bridge. “Maybe you should be a little more careful who you sleep with, Amani.” He spoke, making sure the words sounded as sour as he meant them. “It makes it easier to avoid orphans like me.” He mocked her. “Though I think I’d rather be an orphan than have a dad like yours, selling me for his own benefit.”

“You left me as soon as you knew the truth. I was a poor, sad guy with no family and no money to my name. And I’ve changed since then, but clearly you haven’t. If you left the first time you found out who I was, what’s the harm in doing it again, hm? Because you’re right, it did turn me on. So you can end it now like you always do.” Vinnie hurdled his frustrations, but they still would not leave him.

“I’ll see myself out.”

---

@Kristi Amani
So this is booty but ok
Also is this the end? No sé

[CerealKiller]

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Ballroom || with Inessa

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As Arya wandered through the bustling ballroom, soaking in the enchanting atmosphere of the masquerade, her attention was suddenly drawn to the stage where Renlin, and his cracking voice that echoed through the grand ballroom, had taken the spotlight. A mixture of surprise and curiosity flickered in Arya’s eyes as she listened to Renlin’s rambling speece. She hadn’t expected him to address the disappearance of Miles and Seraphina in front of the entire ballroom

The mention of the missing students sent a shiver down her spine, casting a shadow over the festive atmosphere of the masquerade ball.
Just as the situation threatened to escalate from a small speech into a big shot show, Jesse’s timely intervention brought a sense of relief, diffusing the tension that had been building in the room.

As the tension from Renlin’s impromptu speech lingered in the air, Arya couldn’t help but feel a sense of irritation at the events unfolding on the first day of the new academic year. With a resigned sigh, she made her way through the crowd, her steps guided by a singular purpose: to find solace in the form of a much needed drink. Preferably whiskey, but champagne does the trick as well.

“Arya! You look breathtaking, did you cut your hair?”

As Arya glanced across the ballroom, her glass rested by her, she caught sight of Inessa making her way towards her, and after such a long time not seeing her, Arya’s attention shifted and her lips curled into a smile that immediately lit up her face. Inessa’s striking green attire caught her eye, the delicate vine detailing adding a touch of elegance to her appearance. Arya couldn’t help but admire her friend’s beauty, though even with the half-mask adorning her face, Arya could recognize her friend’s familiar features anywhere.

Returning Inessa’s warm embrace, Arya couldn’t suppress a smile. "New year, new me. Or something along those lines” she quipped in response to the hair question, a confident smirk playing on her lips as she reciprocated the hug "And you too look absolutely stunning, as always. How have you been?”

As they pulled away from the embrace, arya picked up her glass again, taking a sip of her drink before addressing the earlier commotion. “Quite the dramatic entrance with your brother earlier, wasn’t it?" she remarked casually, her tone carrying a sense of detached curiosity. Despite the history between Arya and Renlin, she knew better than to let any personal feelings cloud her judgment in the presence of her friend, not to mention his sister. After all, awkward speech and all, Renlin wasn’t wrong. “There’s never a dull moment in this place”

---

@Madilnel Inessa || Renlin mentioned

@novella Jesse mentioned

[astxrism]

{ ball / with Renlin }
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The man in front of Aurora could capture her attention fully without even trying, she did not even have to listen to his words to feel this sort of admiration for him but just as easy as that was, it was easy for him to ruin it and replace all the good feelings with annoyance. There was something about Renlin Aurora could not figure out and it made her so drawn to him. However, that was not something she could or would easily show him. So for the sake of it, her attention would shift to other things around them. For example - the way Celestine was outshining everyone at this ball. Literally. The girl was drenched in gold. And yes, she could easily recognize it was her, it was quite simple. Aurora was here tonight to figure out who was who and keep track of this new beginning. “Saving the best for later? Oh, Renlin…” She let her hand slip to his, gently squeezing it as a form of apology for her next words. “You think I’d be saving that for you?”

Mirroring him, Aurora leaned in too, keeping a smile that could’ve been seen as both genuine and sarcastic. “How unfortunate,” letting go of his hand, she pouted. “I was not looking for your kind words tonight but I’m happy to hear I’m not just anyone.” With that she took a step away from him, a moment in which she also grabbed the long glass of champagne being carried around. “Thank you,” she happily exclaimed, the glass reaching her lips in a matter of seconds. Almost ignoring Ren, Aurora sipped her champagne, thinking about his words. She could sense Renlin’s eyes on her, waiting for her next move.

Aren’t we? Of course. Of course everyone was playing their own games, everyone had their own motives and end goals. But could Aurora really say that for herself? What will become of her life once she is out of here? Will she ever get out of here? “I think we are all here to learn and eventually be successful,” she finally spoke up, her tone so light, followed by a sweet smile. “I don’t quite agree with you or understand what you’re trying to say.” Her smile remained fixed, a shield against the gaze of those around her. Behind it, however, lay a mix of thoughts and questions. “Why don’t you go try that speech on someone else? Tell me later how it went?” Getting on her toes, a real effort that was, she gently places a kiss on Ren’s cheek before walking away from him.

---

{ Renlin’s speech }
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Walking away from Renlin, Aurora engaged in her usual conversations. Joining in on ones just to comment on the way someone looked incredible, the way someone’s dress was perfect for them, or to simply guess who someone was, followed by her saying how happy she was to see them again this year. What Aurora liked to believe is that she exuded warmth and charm, that her presence drew in others to her like moths to a flame.

Aurora’s laughter echoed as she engaged in conversations, her words flowing easily and sincerely. Hidden behind the mask, her eyes still sparkled with curiosity and kindness. However, one should always be prepared for things to change.

The moment the music changed, stopped, she knew something was not right. Her gaze immediately flew towards musicians who seemed to be as confused as the rest of them. It all led to everyone’s attention being directed to the person now on stage - Renlin. She, or anyone else for that matter, shouldn’t be surprised to see him there. They shouldn’t be surprised to see him potentially trying to make everyone laugh but as soon as he started speaking she could tell that is not the direction this will go in. She watched in silence as he commanded the attention of their peers.

Should she stop this? Someone should. Part of her admired Renlin’s boldness, his willingness to address the elephant in the room, yet she knew this was not supposed to be happening. Taking her gaze away from him, Aurora looked around almost frantically hoping to see someone was ready to intervene. What was he hoping to achieve with his words? Did he truly believe that anyone would dare to challenge her father?

Luckily someone did come to the rescue but she could already see how this would end. No, she would not be hearing back from Renlin, telling her how he charmed other girls when she walked away from him… He would be too busy explaining himself. If they were on better terms, Aurora would even go up to the savior Jesse and thank him for stopping Renlin from saying something incredibly stupid but they were not. And that was something she would not do.

What she will do is pretend like it was all just funny, a silly thought in Renlin’s head. They were all fine, nothing bad was happening - why was everyone so serious about it? Go back to dancing and drinking.

---

{ ball / with Amani }
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But was that the move? Wouldn’t her father want Aurora to do something about it? Of course she could go around and talk to people, be the positive energy everyone needs but how could that stop them all from talking about what they just saw? From Renlin’s speech?
So Aurora’s mind started working.

Finding a drink she could hold in her hand… Water, for many reasons. She started looking around the room, searching for a perfect opportunity.
When it finally showed up.

Under the mask Aurora could not tell who the person was but they were wearing a beautiful black dress with chains. They seemed to be in a rush, their movements hurried and distracted. Aurora’s gaze flickered to the clear liquid in her glass, a smile tugging at her lips beneath her mask. This was it, her chance to divert everyone’s attention. Did she want to do this? No, she did not want to embarrass herself but it’s better if she’s in the center of attention.

With practiced precision, Aurora moved into the person’s path. Feigning a stumble, she grabbed the person’s arm in a dramatic display of faux imbalance. Simultaneously, she deliberately tipped the glass of water (shh), its contents splashing on her own dress. The fabric darkened as it absorbed the liquid. “Why?” Aurora almost screamed at the person as if the whole thing was done on purpose. “Why did you do that? What have I done to you?” Her words reverberated through the room, drawing the attention of nearby students who turned to look at what was happening.

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@/Madilnel - Ren
@/Kristi - Amani

[Caticorn]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ✦. ☽ .✦ :☆ﾟ. ･ ───

Something about the man in front of her seemed off but Lenore couldn’t quite place it. Not yet at least. She couldn’t decipher whether he was nervous or if he was just guarded. He seemed rather unapproachable, which is why she wouldn’t let up. She sat down across from him after receiving his permission, although he warned her that he might not be the best company.

“I think I will be the judge of that.” She responded with a sure tone and a soft smile, crossing her ankles underneath the table. She placed her drink down on the table, briefly looking down at it before attempting to meet his eyes, though he seemed reluctant to meet hers. Aside from the obvious mystery of the mask, he was certainly a mysterious presence, with his dark hair, dark eyes and a wardrobe to match. “Lenore Ferrell.” She introduced herself, delicately offering him her hand. One of them had to be the one to end some of the suspense between them and she suspected that he wouldn’t be the one to do it.

Finally, he properly met her eyes. His gaze was cold, causing Lenore to wonder what had happened to make it that way. “Here as in the ball or here as in Ninth House in general?” She asked, wanting to make sure because her answer would be slightly different depending on what he was asking her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ✦. ☽ .✦ :☆ﾟ. ･ ───

@idiot.exe - Dominic

[astxrism]

{ office / with Renlin }
•┈┈┈ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ⋆˖⁺⋆ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ┈┈┈•

For years Adrian Dear knew what to do, what to say and how to handle tough situations. To acknowledge there is a problem is one thing, but to treat it as a blockage was not the right path. What an example would it be to let his students believe they are in danger? With Adrian in charge, everything has been under control and the man does not like people questioning that. Everything that he has been doing was for the students and his family. The school was of most importance in his life. That’s why he had people in the ballroom keeping an eye on his students, making sure everyone remained happy and safe. Why the word of one student’s impulsive performance was reported to the headmaster before anyone even got the chance to properly react to it.

Adrian Dear sat behind his desk.
His gaze was fixated on the light of his desk lamp, listening to the words of a professor who was there to witness Renlin confessing his doubts.
As per usual, Adrian’s expression resembled nothing but calm composure. However, his mind raced analyzing every detail, trying to find a reason for Renlin’s actions.
To admit he was not expecting such a scene would be a lie.

“Find him,” Adrian spoke up, his hands resting on top of the desk as he leaned back in his leather chair. “And call him in.” He was a man of action, a guardian of order and discipline. To allow chaos to reign unchecked was unthinkable, and Adrian was determined to address the situation with the gravity it deserved. With a decisive gesture, Adrian commanded his subordinates to locate Renlin and summon him to his office without delay.

In the stillness of his office, with only the soft hum of the overhead lights for company, Adrian awaited Renlin’s arrival as he flipped through his student file.

---

“Thank you, professor,” Adrian said, his voice betraying nothing as Renlin was let in his office. His hand gestured for his student to sit down. “You may leave us.” As the professor exited the room, leaving Adrian and Renlin alone in the dimly lit office, a heavy silence fell between them. The man’s gaze remained fixed on the lamp for a couple of moments before he finally spoke up. “Renlin…”

He did not look up at him, instead he shifted his focus back on the file he had on Renlin, as if he was reading information on him he already knew. “Renlin Duman…” With practiced precision, Adrian began to speak, his words carefully chosen and delivered with a cool detachment. His voice was measured, he did not reveal his true feelings. You could not tell me by listening or looking at Adrian if he was mad at you or proud of you. “Duman. Making quite a name for yourself? How would your sister feel about you being here now? She’s quite a stellar student I must admit,” With a deft motion, Adrian closed the file, his gaze now fully focused on Renlin, a silent challenge lingering in the air between them. Something that resembled a smile reached his lips. “But you… You-” Straightening up and leaning on the desk, Adrian pointed his finger at him as if he was trying to pinpoint something on his face.

Rising from his seat, Adrian crossed the room with measured strides, his hands crossed behind his back as he approached the window, the darkness outside was a contrast to the dimly lit interior of the office. “I like you Renlin.” He continued. “You ask the right questions,” A soft chuckle escaped his lips, the sound echoing faintly in the stillness of the room as he turned to look Renlin over his shoulder. “However…I trust you understand the severity of the situation. Your actions at the ball have raised concerns. We are not here to scare anyone, do you understand what I mean?”

---

@Madilnel - Rennnn when you get the chance no rush hehe

[novella]

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Freya conveyed only the slightest of head tilts as the man explained to her how one learns quickly around here. What she was really hearing from that was that he was well mastered on the affairs of the school, given that it was clear he was a returner. While Freya wasn’t interested in learning knowledge regarding the social scene, there was something about this masked figure that told her it wasn’t what he was referring to. Though, if his word was true, she expected she would find out soon enough.

It was clear neither of them were willing to give anything away, as he fired back with the same cryptic response she had used. Which only left her to wonder what kind of answer he had actually been looking for when he initially asked. Though just as she dropped that, another comment struck her about the ease in which people could go missing. Given the announcement of the unaccounted for student, was this just a poor choice of words, or was there intention to what he was telling her? There wasn’t much time to ask, as he soon became distracted and slipped out of the conversation.

Regardless of what he meant, if her presence was unnoticeable as he suggested, Freya would take advantage of that. She began to retrace her steps in the ballroom, weaving past people once again, heading for the door she had entered in. Though her attention was caught by something that stopped Freya in her tracks. She thought she had been mistaken when she initially noticed the vague depiction of a camera. But when Freya heard the indisputable click, she realised she had been correct, and it had been pointed at her.

By the time she could face it directly, the face of a wide-eyed brunette took the place of where the camera had been. Presumably, the photographer. Although she didn’t seem to claim that role, as her weapon-of-choice had been not so discreetly hidden away into a bag. And somehow it was her doing the questioning, rather than Freya. Freya had to look around for a moment. Surely someone else had seen that, right?

The rambling from the girl in front of her left Freya dumbfounded. Her nervous tone betrayed her, though, and confirmed any doubt Freya almost had about whether it was her that had taken the photo. “Are you kidding me right now?” Freya asked her in perplexity as she was finally given the space to get a word in. “Why did you just take a photo of me?” She asked her, plainly.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

@Kristi Thaliaaaaaa
@astxrism Hay

[Mouschi]

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Esther stumbled dizzily, losing her grip on the glass which shattered noisily on the ground. She believed she would hit the cold marble floor too, but an arm encircled her waist, securing her from the fall. She tried to speak, to thank him, but her senses were engulfed in darkness. As the sounds of the masquerade muffle into a whirlwind of whispers and gasps, a familiar voice had called out her name, his voice sending goosebumps crawling over her skin. With her last memory being the embrace of the strange man, Esther’s eyes fall close, finally succumbing to the faintness.

When her consciousness returned, it was the honeyed sound of a woman’s voice. The air was brimming with her beautiful singing and the string quartet in the background. Esther blinked, opening her eyes to find herself on a sofa, a small crowd gathered around her.
As she stirred awake, the singing stopped, beside her stood a woman with an aura of power, her eyes wild and free. “Hi”, the mysterious woman spoke, a guilty smile tugging at the edges of her lips. Startled, Esther sat up, eyes traversing the crowd as she tried to recollect her thoughts. She couldn’t help but feel a lingering sense of fear and embarrassment, an unease gnawing at her when she met their gazes. Inhaling deeply, Esther sprang up from the sofa, looking at the ethereal girl with a defeated smile. “Thank you”, she whispered, her voice frail. As her surroundings came into focus, Esther hastily took to the exit, the ball now a distant hum.

She quickened her pace, determined to find respite if only for a brief moment. As she stepped out into the balcony, the cool night air rushed over her, drying the tears that welled up in her eyes. A silence stretched over the railing and into the deep water below, the breeze thick with the scent of perfume. For a moment, she took a few breaths, trying to steady her nerves and regain her composure. She began to feel a semblance of calm, finally turning around to find herself wandering the grand hallways of Ninth House.

The effects of the poison appeared to grow faint, the sweet taste on her lips evanescing. Esther exhaled sharply, forcing a smile, a technique she used to make her feel better from time to timel. She found her thoughts drifting back to the familiar man and the realization that he had recognized her, while she remained oblivious to his identity. It was an unnerving truth, but only heightened her curiosity. Her thoughts would be interrupted however, as soon Esther would slowly come to the realization that she was hopelessly lost in a dim hallway.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

@raviola - Desdemona

@idiot.exe - Atlas

[Kristi]

[[༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ] ]

Thalia winced at the voice, her eyes darting nervously around the room before reluctantly settling on the woman in front of her. She did not know what to say nor how she was going to run away from this, without looking suspicious as she passes through the crowd. “I don’t kid about pastries!,” Thalia deflected, her hands fidgeting with her dress. "Really, I insist you try to the chocolate éclairs; they’re positively sinful. And who knows, maybe our paths will cross again when the stars align—or when the DJ plays a better song.”
Thalia let out a laughter that she hoped did not sound too awkward and nervous, but really did the nature of her laughter matter? The girl in front of her definitely did not think so, for her next words were not a rhetorical question like her first words have been.

Now the question was how to gaslight the girl and plan her escape without toppling over or tripping on something. Thalia felt dizzy, really dizzy, and she needed to find her way out of this situation before her condition became too apparent. “Ah, yes, pastries!” Thalia exclaimed, her words coming out a bit more slurred than she intended. She stumbled over her words, trying to regain her balance both physically and mentally. “And, I-I didn’t take any photos of you, it was actually …” Thalia paused, trying to think of what to say, “Your imagination! Yes, yes this is why we should not always listen to our heads,” God knows most of the time Thalia does not, " Yes, that’s it! Sometimes our minds play tricks on us, don’t they? Like, they can make us see things that aren’t really there. Like how … how … it made you think I had a camera but really I don’t," Thalia chuckled nervously, her attempt at gaslighting the situation falling flat as her words slurred together.

Despite her best efforts to maintain control, Thalia could feel the world spinning around her, her vision blurring at the edges. She knew she needed to make a swift exit before her condition became too obvious, but the room seemed to sway dangerously with each step she took. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she struggled to keep her composure, her heart pounding in her chest. “it’s all-,” Thalia began, trying to take a step back, but as she did, her legs began to feel like jelly, and her vision blurred even more. She staggered backward, nearly losing her balance. “Just your imagination,” Thalia hands reached up to her forehead, as she rubbed her temples, was it possible to get a hangover on the same day you drink? No, right? It usually happens the next day, when you wake up, but it seems that nothing was truly going to go normal for Thalia this day or this school year because what if this was a sign? A sign from the universe? Thalia’s hands clutched her pendant, as she stared at the girl in front of her. “Sorry, i-” She stammered, feeling a strange sensation coming up her stomach, and making her clutch her pendant even tighter.

---

@novella - Freya my love

[Jass]

---

Lyra listened attentively to Ayla’s words, her expression reflecting a mix of empathy and concern. As Ayla spoke about the missing students and mentioned their lost loved ones, Lysander and Alexander, Lyra’s heart sank with sorrow. The dimly lit ballroom seemed to grow heavier around her hearing the news. “Missing students?” she echoed softly, her voice tinged with alarm, the distant sound of music fading into the background as her thoughts raced. “I hadn’t heard about that.” It worried Lyra, especially considering the tragedy of her brother’s passing at school. A shiver ran down her spine as she began to question her safety within the school’s walls. “Especially after what happened to my brother… It’s hard not to let fear creep in.” She glanced around the ballroom, feeling a pang of unease in the elegant surroundings that now seemed tinged with uncertainty.

However, more prominently on her mind were her brother and her cousin, the loss of them still a raw wound in her heart. “Talking about Lysander, and Alexander…” Lyra paused, her voice catching slightly as memories flooded back. The echo of laughter and shared secrets filled her mind, a painful reminder of the void they had left behind. “It’s been hard without them. Sometimes it feels like the pain will never go away. Do you ever feel that way, Ayla? Like we’re just trying to fill a void that can never be filled?” she admitted, her eyes briefly betraying the sadness she felt, her voice barely above a whisper. “But knowing we have each other helps.”

As Ayla swiftly shifted the conversation back to a more positive note, Lyra’s smile returned, appreciating her cousin’s resilience. “I’m glad I could influence your decision to come,” Lyra replied warmly. “Having family here makes all the difference. We’ll get through this together, just like always.” With a reassuring squeeze of Ayla’s arm, Lyra conveyed her support and solidarity, ready to face the challenges of their new school together.

---

Ayla | @Tina.G

[idiot.exe]

[⋅𖥔⋅]═════⋅𖥔⋅═══ [ ♛ ] ═══⋅𖥔⋅═════[⋅𖥔⋅]

Dominic subtly raised his brow as the woman sat across him on table. She seemed confident enough in her judgement that his warning didn’t even make her hesitate. Though she held a soft smile and graceful appearance, he could tell there was more to her than what meets the eye. Dominic set his glass down on the table as she did, sitting up straight in his seat.

She offered her hand for an introduction. Dominic glanced down at it for a moment, then into her eyes through the gaps of her mask. He nodded, extending his hand in return. “Nice to meet you, Lenore,” he replied, shaking it firmly. Her name felt so fitting, and the way she spoke it only added to her elegance. “My name is…” His voice cut off, feeling his throat tighten. A part of him wanted to say his full name following her example, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “My name is… Nic.” he finally managed. He then cleared his throat, continuing. “No need to be so formal, you won’t remember my last name and I won’t remember yours,” His tone was sharp and assured, hoping to distract from the moment of hesitation.

Lenore asked for a clarification on his question and in that moment he realized he hadn’t made it fully clear. “Here, as in, speaking to me. There’s a sea of interesting people in colorful attire all around us, and you felt drawn to the loner in the corner of the room?” he asked, lifting his glass to his lips again. After another short, fake sip, he set it back down on the table. “As for what you’re doing at the ball or at Ninth House, that would be none of my concern. We just met, I wouldn’t want to pry…” he paused, looking up at her with a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “…Unless you want to share.”

[⋅𖥔⋅]═════⋅𖥔⋅═══ [ ♤ ] ═══⋅𖥔⋅═════[⋅𖥔⋅]

@Caticorn ⋅𖥔⋅ Lenore Ferrell

[sunflowerjm]

{ball}

⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“Geez, relax, brother. Don’t you ever get tired of being a depressed soul?” Elijah teased as he slumped in the seat beside his brother. “Ah, you know, I am just teasing. It’s just easy to get under your skin.” He smirked before settling into a serious expression as he gazed at the crowd before him.

All these fresh faces, none of which he knew. He felt a pang of anxiety come up on him, but he pushed it away with a long breath. Elijah was popular with his former classmates, but perhaps this time that wouldn’t be the case. It’s not that he was terrified of being alone; he just didn’t want to be. It allowed his dark thoughts to get the best of him, which he could not allow.

“So tell me, Flo, will things be different for you this time or will you seclude yourself once again like before?” Although those words would sound like another mock to his brother, Elijah was being sincere this time. Sure, the two twins did not get along well anymore but that did not mean Elijah did not care for his brother. After all, Floriano was his other half—whether he liked it or not.

Elijah forced a smile back into his face before he gave his brother a shoulder pat, realizing that his question would have caused a more serious exchange between them. “I’ll actually let you consider that on your own. I’m going to go have a drink and give this party some real attention.” He paused for a moment before grinning and saying, “Try to do the same; you never know, you might get lucky.” Elijah teased his brother once more as he laughed and winked before he made his way to the drinking station, hoping to meet someone who might make his stay more fun.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆

@sunflower.flow sorry for taking so long
ORP: approachable <3

[Kristi]

[౨ৎ]

At that instant, Amani was engulfed in a whirlwind of emotions, none of them bearing any semblance of positivity. She had advanced toward him, her hand connecting with his cheek in a swift motion, her expression contorted with disdain. ‘You knew it was me, didn’t you?’ she had demanded, her voice laced with anger and accusation. Yet, he had remained unperturbed, devoid of any visible emotion, as he calmly refuted her claim, stating that no, he had not initially recognized her. It was only the faint tattoo on her back that had eventually led him to the truth.

Ah yes, the ‘tattoo’—the tiny Monet inscription adorning her lower back. He must have noticed it, must have caught a glimpse when she had turned away, and she could sense his gaze penetrating her skin, scrutinizing every detail.

“Not at the start, no, but halfway through,” She hissed, “You could have stopped at any moment, ended the charade when you realized it was me, but you chose not to.".” She began, “You didn’t stop because you couldn’t—because you couldn’t resist the opportunity to seek revenge on me for leaving you to be poor, friendless little Enzo, or because you harbor some twisted obsession with me.” She spat out.

“I think it’s both, isn’t it?” She asked, her voice cutting through the air. “You couldn’t stand that I left you so easily, that I never came back for you. Left you little treats wherever I walked, so you could always follow me, we could always be together and You could pretend… .” She trailed off, stepping closer to him until she was close enough to whisper in his ear.
" We could pretend that we were each other’s salvation, that I needed you just as much as you wanted me." Amani lowered her voice, “But the thing is, no one has ever needed you or wanted you. Not your parents, who either chose death over you or completely abandoned you. Not Bigfoot, who remains friends with Jesse despite knowing how much you despise him. And not me”, she declared, her gaze unwavering.

“It sucks doesn’t it? Being so alone in this world, not having me holding your hand, telling you everything is going to be ok, that we shall be partners in crime forever.” She took a step back, her eyes cold as she stared at him, leaving her words hanging heavily in the air.

“But hey,” Amani began, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she glanced over his outfit. “I suppose it is a crime to look this beautiful,” She said, referring to herself, “And for your clothes to represent everything wrong with men fashion today, so I suppose we are both committing crimes together, I’ll give you that Vincenzo.” She emphasized his name, knowing he preferred not to go by it.

“Look at us, being partners in crime once more. It’s ok, I know your smiling, twirling your thinning hair and kicking your feet deep down, is that right my good little chien?” She mocked.

She fell silent, crossing her arms as she attempted to calm herself down. She needed to regain her composure so she could leave. Her hands dropped to her sides, her gaze flickering towards the door, her feet poised to take her away from this suffocating place, away from him. She wanted to forget this ever happened, to cleanse herself with water and wash away the memories. She could blame it all on the alcohol, even though she hadn’t drunk enough to be intoxicated, and blame it on the demonic psycho.

Tomorrow, she would go to a café before class, order a hot caramel latte, and perhaps a bagel or croissant to go with it. She would push tonight’s events from her mind, forget the fact that she slept with Vincenzo, and try to ignore the part of her that had enjoyed it.

She was on the verge of leaving when he began to speak, his voice carrying an unexpected edge of anger. Her brows rose in surprise, and despite her efforts to remain unaffected, Amani found herself freezing. She glanced down briefly before meeting his gaze, any trace of pity or friendliness evaporating instantly. What did he know about her? About her family? What did he even know about having a family?

She did not want him to see, that he was having an effect on her, that she had flinched when he spoke about her fiance. She clenched her fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to maintain her composure. “And I’m sure your parents killed themselves because they will rather go to fcking hell than take care of a son like you, and honestly I can’t blame them,” She retorted, her voice dripping with venom. “Be careful when speaking about parents, Vincenzo, you know nothing about my father nor our relationship, you don’t even know how a proper family is supposed to be like or how love is supposed to feel like. What do you even know about love?” She questioned. “No, really because I want to know what makes you so cocky, so self-righteous that you feel like you have any right to judge all that you ever could get… Was I a shxtty friend?” Amani questioned as she began circling around him.

“Perhaps it was shxtty on my part to give you that ring, to let you rest your head on my lap while I ran my fingers through your hair as we both poured out our problems,” she remarked, standing behind him with a mocking glint in her eyes. “Do you remember, Enzo? Do you remember the day we were on the rooftop together, drowning in exams and stress?” She continued, her tone laced with bitter reminiscence. “You saw how overwhelmed I was, how much I had studied, and then you stole my books, insisting that I follow the clues you left behind to retrieve them. I laughed at how ridiculous it all seemed, yet secretly relished in the moment of relaxation you provided. You were right, I did need that break. But yes, , it was indeed shxtty of me to let you do that, to give you the wrong impression of what you meant to me, when if only I was brave enough, I should have pushed your head off and watched you fall because you truly have no self-respect.” Amani whispered softly into his ear. It was so soft, so loving the tone she used, that one would not imagine the words that she was saying could be so bitter, so cruel.

“Oh no! I Left you when i found out you were a poor, sad guy with no family and money and blah blah. Get over it, it was months ago.” She told him, leaving his back and going in front of him. “I can’t believe-i can’t believe that maybe there was actually a part of me that li-” Amani stopped herself, shaking her head. "No, let me not dwell on that, because it will get me so angry to think there was actually a part of me blind to the fact that you were and still are-no matter how much you have apparently changed- a pathetic, self-pitting fool. " she seethed, her voice barely above a whisper . “And I want nothing to do with you.” Withiout giving him time to add something or leave himself, Amani turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Vincenzo alone with his thoughts.

Her father was right, her father is always right, even when she did not want him to be She muttered, about to leave to her room.

[౨ৎ]

With Aurora

As Amani made her way toward her destination, her steps were abruptly halted by a woman with bright orange hair and a white dress stepping in front of her. Carrot top, Amani thought, recognizing Aurora Dear, the headmaster’s only living and breathing sperm—unless, of course, Adrian had other children no one knew about. Regardless, Amani had no time to exchange pleasantries or engage with the school’s favorite red-headed tomato. With a dismissive glance, she attempted to resume her steps, only to find Aurora feigning a stumble and intentionally spilling water on herself.

“Why” The red banshee screamed, drawing people in. “Why did you do that? What have I done to you?” Aurora continued, drawing in people.

Amani’s eyes narrowed, her Patience’s wearing thing, and she considered; walking away, but there was a crowd and it would just lead them into talking more. So with a calculated sigh, Amani shifted her demeanor, allowing a few fake tears to well up in her eyes. She glanced around, ensuring that the growing crowd was watching her closely before turning her gaze back to Aurora.

“I-I can’t believe you’re blaming me for this,” she said, her voice quivering with faux indignation. “You were about to pour that drink on me, but you tripped and spilled it on your own dress instead”. Amani continued, “Just like your father seemed to trip on his words when addressing North, incompetency and bluffing must run in the family,” Amani muttered the last part under her breath, not wanting to be overheard by the crowd or by Adrian if he happened to be nearby.

" I know we did not start on a good foot, Aurora” " Amani made sure to emphasize on her name, just in case anyone did not know who she was due to the mask (though her hair was an obvious give-away) with a soft tone.
“But I thought we were getting closer, especially after you told me about what really happened with M…” She let the sentence hang, a masterful stroke of leaving the accusation unsaid, yet implied.

Whatever game Aurora was playing, Amani was prepared to play along, even if she didn’t particularly want to participate. Hopefully, though,the game is short because Amani was tired of games for the day.

---

@astxrism

@raviola

[novella]

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Freya was unsure about how the conversation became about the pastries being served at the party. Had she not heard what Freya just asked? In fact, she was confused as to how this had turned into a conversation in the first place. The simple plan in asking this girl to delete the photo and for them to move on with their lives was clearly far more complicated. At this point she probably should have just ignored the flash she had noticed. “I didn’t approach you to talk about… the refreshments and music,” She retorted, her tone stoic, in that it was more a matter-of-fact comment rather an attempt to insult.

The idea of Freya’s photo being taken hadn’t even particularly angered her, but when the photographer was arguing that it was her imagination that had seen it, that emotion started to arise. Freya trusted her instinct, and her own mind over what anyone else would tell her. Especially over what this girl was trying to tell her. Even more considering the fact that Freya hadn’t been drinking - and this person certainly had.

As that observation came over her, Freya couldn’t unsee it. This girl was drunk, and possibly dictating her actions right now. It was potentially why she had been trying to blame Freya’s mind, and maybe why she was stumbling in her steps, drowning amongst the sea of bodies around them. “I think you need to get out of here,” She told her, mainly thinking out loud. When she realised how that sounded, she shook her head as if to dismiss that statement. “I mean, you shouldn’t be here,” Freya attempted again. Though with trying to avoid stating the obvious that she was too drunk, combined with the difficulty in talking over the music, it was seemingly impossible for her to get the intended message across.

She had wanted to leave the ball anyway. Doing so with someone else she certainly had not anticipated, but it just hadn’t felt right to leave this girl in her current state. Getting her outside, though, was the extent to her plans. So when they were stood outside the building, Freya now felt lost. “Is your… room near? Or can you get to it or something?” She questioned, looking around and hoping this girl would give her some clue on what the next plan of action would be.

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@Kristi Thalia

[Jass]

---

“Well, if it’s ‘Girls Girls Girls,’ then I must be in for quite the adventure,” Dante replied with a chuckle, acknowledging her dry humor. "But who’s to say imminent danger can’t be thrilling in its own way?"

As Celestine continued to express her love for fashion and admiration for the 1967 Balenciaga oval dress, Dante’s amusement grew. “Ah, so you’re really a lover of vintage fashion, are you?” Dante quipped, his tone light and teasing. "Well, I must say, you wear your passion quite well. But don’t sell yourself short, Celestine. You may not be a fashion standard, but you certainly have a knack for making a statement with your style. Who needs modern taste when you’ve got timeless elegance?

Dante responded to Celestine’s critique on his outfit with a playful smirk and a raised eyebrow, his tone light and teasing. “Ah, so you think my all-black ensemble lacks creativity?” he quipped, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know that black is the epitome of sophistication and mystery, my dear Celestine. As for leather, well, let’s just say it adds a certain… edge to the ensemble.”

“Ah, so now you’re offering to transform me from greasy greaser to James Dean, hmm?” Dante reacted, his tone light but tinged with amusement. “While I appreciate the offer to undergo a complete style overhaul, I must admit I’m rather fond of my current look. But I must say, the image of me strutting into a party in an all-leather detective suit does have a certain appeal,” he added with a playful grin and a hint of a chuckle. “Though I fear it might cause more than a few raised eyebrows among the crowd.”

“Aha, so I see I’ve been at the receiving end of your little mind games,” Dante said with a shrug, a playful grin spreading across his face. “I must say, you succeeded admirably. Here I was, following along with your references like a lost puppy, only to realize you were leading me down a rabbit hole. But it’s all part of the game, isn’t it?” He chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Well played,” Dante continued, his tone filled with playful admiration. “You’ve managed to keep me on my toes, and for that, I tip my hat to you.” As he spoke those words, for comedic effect, he pretended to tip his non existing hat. He knew it was a bit corny, but if it drew a little smile, it was worth it.

“Well, well, aren’t we the expert jeweler all of a sudden?” Dante said with a smirk, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “I must say, you have quite the discerning eye for quality. But let’s not be too hasty in dismissing comedy pyrite just yet. After all, even fool’s gold can have its moments of brilliance, wouldn’t you agree?” He accompanied his retort with a playful grin, teasing Celestine while also acknowledging her knack for clever wordplay.

“A fascinating insight, Celestine,” he began, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue. “Indeed, the human mind is a curious thing, capable of perceiving subtle nuances even in the most mundane of surroundings.” Leaning in slightly, as if sharing a secret, he continued, “But what if I were to suggest that perhaps those who seek only peaceful admiration are unwitting participants in the garden’s grand design? What if, in their quest for serenity, they unknowingly become entangled in the very secrets they seek to avoid?” His tone remained enigmatic, leaving room for interpretation as he continued, “It’s a curious paradox, isn’t it? To admire without seeking, yet still find oneself drawn into the mysteries that lie beneath the surface.”

“Whoa there, Celestine, easy with the assumptions,” Dante said with a smirk, his tone light and playful but with a hint of challenge. “I never said you were the only one with a viewpoint, but hey, when you’re as stylish as you are, can you blame a guy for noticing?” Leaning in slightly, he lowered his voice conspiratorially. “And as for the butterfly effect, well, who’s to say a simple gesture couldn’t spark a revolution? After all, every grand idea starts with a single thought, doesn’t it?” He flashed her a roguish grin, inviting her to ponder his cryptic words.

As they walked outside, Dante played along with Celestine’s dramatic statement about her mother’s perspective on men using women as accessories. He raised an eyebrow in mock surprise at her exaggerated remark. “My, my, Celestine, such a vivid imagination your mother had,” he teased, his tone lighthearted. “But I assure you, my choice of attire has nothing to do with turning you into a mere accessory. I simply prefer the understated elegance of black.”

Dante’s jovial demeanor faltered for a moment as he processed Celestine’s outburst. It was clear that his playful banter had struck a nerve, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt gnawing at him. He hadn’t intended to hurt her feelings; after all, he was just being his usual witty self, engaging in the back-and-forth banter that he enjoyed so much. But as he looked into Celestine’s eyes, he saw a hint of vulnerability that he hadn’t noticed before. He realized that beneath her poised exterior, she was human, with her own insecurities and sensitivities. His heart sank as he realized the impact his words had on her, and he felt a twinge of remorse for his thoughtless behavior.

For Dante, teasing and joking around had always been his way of connecting with others, a way to break the ice and keep things light-hearted. He never meant any harm by it; in fact, he often used humor as a defense mechanism, a way to deflect attention from his own vulnerabilities. But now, faced with Celestine’s hurt and anger, Dante couldn’t help but question his own actions. Had he gone too far? Had his jokes crossed a line without him even realizing it? He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had let her down, that he had failed to see beyond the surface and recognize the pain beneath her facade. As he listened to her impassioned words, Dante felt a swell of guilt wash over him. He had been so focused on trying to be the life of the party, the joker with a quick wit and a ready smile, that he had failed to see the impact of his words on those around him. And now, confronted with Celestine’s raw emotion, he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Woah, woah, Celestine, let’s take a step back here,” Dante said raising his hands slightly in a placating gesture. “I never meant to belittle you or your experiences. If anything, I’ve been thoroughly impressed by your grace and elegance throughout the night.”

He took a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing, his tone earnest. “I can see how my teasing might have come across as undermining, but believe me, that was never my intention. I’ve enjoyed our banter and your company immensely. You’re far from being a ‘Prissy Little Princess in Gold’ in my eyes.”

Before Dante could say anything else, he could see Celestine seemed physically unwell. “Celestine,” Dante said softly, his voice devoid of its usual teasing tone. “Are you alright?” He stepped a bit closer, wanting to genuinely support her, but also knowing he did not want to make the situation worse. His expression however, showed concern for her well-being. “Take all the time you need. I won’t touch you, I promise.”

As they have moved, and Dante had unmasked himself, he was initially taken aback by Celestine’s deduction about having figured out his his identity before he had revealed himself. He paused for a moment, processing her words and the implications of her keen observation. As she continued to speak, confidently laying out her reasoning and conclusions, he listened, his curiosity piqued by her boldness and perceptiveness.

“Ah, so you’re not one to reveal all your cards at once,” he commented to her reaction of him revealing himself, his tone teasing. “But I suppose that’s what makes you so fascinating, Celestine. You keep us all guessing. And trying to pry into my secrets, are we?” Dante said, flashing a playful grin. “Well, Celestine, a true gentleman never reveals all his mysteries.”

He then adopted a more contemplative tone, leaning in slightly as if sharing a confidential tidbit. “But I suppose I could share a hint or two, just to keep things interesting,” he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Let’s just say there’s more to me than meets the eye. Perhaps someday you’ll uncover some of those secrets for yourself.”

“Bold indeed, but isn’t life more fun when we take a few risks?” Dante quipped, his tone light and teasing. “Besides, what’s a masquerade without a bit of intrigue and daring? But let’s not forget, it takes two to tango. Your own boldness in unraveling this little mystery is equally commendable.”

Her analysis of the different groups and her deduction impressed him, and he felt a sense of admiration for her intellect and deductive skills. However, he also maintained a playful demeanor, not wanting to give away too much of his own thoughts or intentions.

When Celestine directly addresses him as Mr. Dante Blackwell, Dante flashed a wry smile, acknowledging her accuracy while also maintaining a sense of mystery. “Well, it seems you’ve easily uncovered one layer of the puzzle, Celestine. But as you said, there’s always more beneath the surface.”
“What you haven’t yet uncovered,” Dante began, his gaze piercing, “is why we’re truly here.” He held her gaze, his expression inscrutable. “Our journey for the evening has only just begun.”

Glancing at the watch on his wrist, he noted the time with a sense of anticipation. “He should be ready by now,” Dante muttered, a hint of impatience creeping into his tone. Motioning for Celestine to follow, he led the way toward the entrance gate of the academy.

As they approached the gate, Dante’s eyes flickered with a mix of apprehension and determination and he peaked at his watch impatiently. He couldn’t afford any missteps now. Not after the evening’s turbulent events with Celestine lingering in his mind.

---

@cordyx - Celestine

[astxrism]

{ ball / with Amani }
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How much luck does a girl have if out of everyone - EVERYONE - she targeted the girl she liked the least? No, she can’t even say she likes Amani the least, Aurora simply despises her. The girl was nothing but bad energy and bad manners. We could stay here and talk for hours about why and how this feud started but this is not the time nor place for it. I’m sure you’ll get to see a similar scenario very soon in which Aurora will not be the one who will accidentally start something.

Now here is what Aurora was expecting once she realized who was standing in front of her: a big dramatic scene, a lot of yelling and a few, not so nice, words. But what did she get? She was… Not quite sure. Was Amani playing along? Was… What was she doing? The girl was known for her manipulative tactics, but this felt different somehow. A bit stunned, Aurora let the girl have her own reaction, at least glad to see it was drawing in some attention. Until she heard the words that seemed to be spoken only for her to hear. The mention of her father’s stumble on his words did cause a flicker of annoyance, which she quickly masked. Not like it mattered, under the mask it was hard to read anyones emotions.

Suppressing a surge of anger, Aurora forced herself to maintain her outward composure. She couldn’t afford to let Amani see how Her words could affect her. “That’s just ridiculous, why would I do that? Just apologize to me,” Aurora tried to make her voice shake as people listened, only to murmur her last words. Just like Amani did, “Be careful what you talk about.” Why would she warn her about anything? There is a lot that people don’t know and she didn’t want her father to keep dealing with students tonight… Or Aurora just didn’t want her attempt to fix something actually make things worse.

But somehow things got even more confusing - the way Amani was acting somehow nice, suggesting they were getting closer. Well, she could only wish and truth be told, it felt nice not to actually fight with her. “Just like you did a few days ago, Amani.” She referred to the way she asked Amani to apologize, bringing in a lie herself. “You didn’t have to beg for it though,” she added loud enough for people to hear but not make a big deal out of it. Whatever game they were both playing soon came to an end as Aurora could only guess what Amani’s words were leading to. Who she was brining into this conversation.

To stop the girl from bringing up the name she wanted for a night to forget about, without much thought, Aurora turned around and with a swift movement snatched the glass from the unsuspecting student’s hand, her fingers tightening around the stem with determination. She could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on her as she turned back toward Amani, her heart pounding in her chest. This was a risky move, one that could either diffuse the situation or escalate it further. But she was willing to take that chance if it meant silencing Amani. In one fluid motion, Aurora tilted the glass slightly, allowing the liquid to spill over onto Amani’s dress. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry!” Aurora exclaimed with sympathy in her voice as she faked concern. “It just slipped out of my hand.”

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@Kristi - Amani

[cordyx]

you keep me hangin’ on

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Twisting the edge of her heel as a way to kill time due to her growing disinterest in the conversation, she was left with little words to say but only a safe word used by many people from her circle as a way to reply to such questions, “Quite.” With a hidden smile slowly peeking from the hand she had placed upon her face, there were moments of wanting to politely go out of the way and simply have a drink of her choice: White Russian. As she sees it, she does deserve another set to ease herself from being too deep in a conversation as bland as unsalted potatoes.

With her interest piqued at the conversation of 60s fashion, she was slightly interested and pleased with the conversation as she had a certain form of appreciation and familiarity to the topic at hand—something that she had found interesting by herself and stuck as a way to differentiate herself from many others. If she has the money, why not choose something many struggle to even collect an immense amount at such a young age? In response to his quips, she had given him an appreciative smile, devoid of her usual boredom: “It’s not just love. Infatuation would be the proper word. I don’t know why the 60s has pulled me, something about the miniskirts or the colorful pallets future generations seems to dislike when incorporating in their wardrobes.” Her mind in deep thought as she looked down, playing on the rim of her glass, she uttered, “I truly dread to live in that time, but the way they styled themselves and the united agreement of the world wearing the style… it breathes a sense of timelessness that is not encapsulated by a little black dress or a white satin gown.” Drinking from the glass, she looked at Dante with a soft liveliness, she gave a sigh, not out of boredom but of relief and appreciation, “Timelessness is by state of mind, no? I guess I misuse my words at certain points. No, I don’t think I’m a standard as no one will look at me and become a part of their mood board, but I guess I mostly wear the way I wear out of pure fun. Not anyone is bothered to manicure their nails, do a wet set, tease their hair, wear toilet paper for preservation, wear a brassier and girdle, wear stockings everyday, do an ensemble dressing, and make a time to do their makeup and hair.” Celestine cleared her throat, drinking for the glass after listing her routine. “But… I like it, as much as it seems too much for everyone. But honestly, it is a form of control in… making an example. Like me. I’m sure they mostly do a blowout rather than a full on perm.”

Celestine shook her head in disbelief after his rejection in a suggestion of a rejuvenation in his style. Giving a small grin, she chortled. “I assure you, this isn’t a style overhaul. You already have components of what would be a style. I would guess you already dress like a rebel, no more than Marlon Brando or James Dean, so it wouldn’t be shocking for you to completely have some updates in your wardrobe. Just think of it having another collection in your leather jackets; its just now you have an authentic 1957 leather jacket from some greaser rather than some cheap plastic imitation of a leather.” Celestine came close to Dante as she whispered, desperately wanting to do something about his choices of clothing. Appreciating the bad boy look, she wants to shine a different light on a potential that could be tapped with the right stylist. “Even if you reject it, think of it as a gift from me; you wouldn’t want to reject a gift from a woman, right? I already have something planned for you, of course, if you are complacent to agree to a diamond offer.”

“You haven’t even offered a dance to me, I fear. I was only playing along if you knew what I was talking about. I was curious if you were even going to keep up with my charade. If you truly want a game, we can try and look around the guests here. See that young fellow?” Her eyes shifted to some random man, giving direction to what may happen if he truly wants to play a true game. “I heard an hour ago about some agreement with his family. Something about an oil business and setting it out straight. But I also heard from farther seats about taking care of a man with descriptions as close to him as… taking care of pests. Now, we could play guardian angel and subtly warn him about a certain drink he will be about to drink. Typical method, but in here would be inappropriate. I would bet that the concoction is an emetic, then the plan will take place.” Looking back at Dante, she gave a mischievous smirk, unlike her, a certain form of excitement that usually is seen when planning something grandiose. “I have a hunch that this oil agreement is a way to save his family from debt, probably finding an opportunity to raise their predicament. Or maybe that oil agreement is something more, exploiting workers so as to make a message, hence 'setting it straight’. But who knows, unless we interfere, it would just unfold us into an unnecessary chaos. Too much, but fun to look from afar.”

Celestine was rather entertained by conversations such as these. The amount of mind games she had endured caused her to think slightly about the words she had to say. Despite the need to think, she was rather pleased to exercise what she had learned. With a sigh of amusement, she looked at him with such dignified confidence and said, “That is true. But shine is just appearance. We can argue that no one can tell, as it is just as luminous as gold. But let’s be real: fool’s gold is fool’s gold. It’ll flake and crumble, unlike gold, which will gouge and leave an indent. As they say, heavy is the head that wears the crown. Luminosity can’t compare to the weight gold has.” Tapping her head, she looked at him with some reassurance, “Besides, why defend comedy pyrite? Shouldn’t you be striving for gold? As I said, strive for quality, not quantity. Why settle for less when you can have more?”

“I can’t argue with that analogy. Our mind is as complex as the garden itself. Finding such beauty to the point of being entangled in a contraption made to be so complex as to perplex the knowledge of man. Admiration can spiral out of the mind to explore further, becoming prey to the gardens as they dug themselves too deep in the quest of finding pretty little flowers.” Such ideas made her mind numb in thinking of ways to reply to his questions. She had an agreement with all his interpretations, yet she found herself needing to defend what she had placed upon herself. Maybe it was by reflex, but a game of chess is not something you could leave unless one admits defeat. Continuing on, she gave the same thoughtful cadence she had brought out: “Of course, the gardens are still a place for admiration and serenity, even if you say that they will consume one with the secrets they hold. Even if you say it is inevitable for anyone to come out as safe from the gardens, one must never forget the purpose of the very same building they have been assigned to. If the gardens are a place for serenity and admiration, they have to comply with it, as betraying their purpose defeats their design. To be drawn to its beauty is part of the gardens; you usually come out clean once you stop by and admire the flowers.”

His tone irked Celestine a bit—such a playful tone, yet it was as if he hadn’t even stopped to think that she was slightly dejected from his viewpoint. Keeping up the ruse, she contained the same formal tone yet kept a weaker smile so as to make it seem less pressing for him and others to see. “Men usually do notice that first. What do they say? Do they like the look but not the personality? They like the makeup but want to see the real girl. To reiterate my point, is it only my style that is worth conversing about, or are you just here to ogle at it until you have an opportunity to slide it right off? It was fun to talk about my style, but we can move on to other topics like the weather or how am I doing after that quip of yours?” With the same tone of formality, she responded back, “That… is my point. Butterfly effects range from simple to big changes. There is nothing really to split hairs when a point is made.”

“Yes, yes, so that I can be the jovial piece of arm candy to compliment that sleek style of black you totally have.” Celestine rolled her eyes to respond back with such a playful manner. She wanted to maintain such energy, regaining an amount of energy she had so as to amp up the ruse. Keeping the dramatic elegance she flared, she looked back at him with glorious disbelief. "Besides, my mother’s imagination is not that vivid to make a statement. There is truth; she’s been one and many others. There may even be women from your generation once we go back to women not being allowed to vote. So are you implying that our plights and limited rights are simply our imagination? A woman’s hysteria? Fiend! "

The playfulness would soon end after a couple walks and a meltdown later on as the sound of silence consumed the place around them. There was a different energy that came out after everything had taken place. Thoughts ran through her mind as she made a fool of herself, running back to moments where she could’ve handled the situation differently from what she had already done. Still slumped on the hedges, she had heard a different tone from Dante that she had not heard before. Not the playful demeanor nor the insightful aura he had displayed a while back, yet a sound of worry—guilt, perhaps. Her back still turned to him, and she gave a weak, mocking chuckle. “Easy for you to say.” She had some strength to muster up words, yet she had felt a shiver in her voice if she would utter even an ounce from him. Despite her mind’s protest, she continued on with a struggling tone: “Says the one who mentioned my delightful rambles, my dear. Yeah, go on and forget everything you said and change the narrative of liking my f*cking company. I… don’t even know why… forget it.” Rubbing the droplets forming in her eyes, she saw her makeup from the gloves smudging around. In hurried frustration, she ripped out both gloves with a sense of loathing. Her mind wandered at the thought of why anyone would even want to be with her. She wasn’t great company, and she knew it. His concern and assurance of this rest gave her a certain form of frustration. She expected to be berated; even being violently thrown a piece of clothing at her as compensation for her attitude. Whatever it was, she felt miserable and grew angry looking at her manicured hands.

Its grim silence hummed across the fields as both of them took a good amount of silence. Her defeated attitude would soon be regained as she picked herself up using things that she had been taught and mastered through years of teaching. Despite her confidence sprinting back out, she still snickered at his tone of playfulness. With a tiny bit of annoyance in her tone, her eyebrows raised. “I could’ve slipped something in your drink if I wanted to, you twit. Even if I wanted to pry into your secrets, it’d only take a connection or two to know you front and back. But such matters are beneath me, and I prefer playing the long game.” Laughing at his overt confidence, she shook her head as she looked at him with utter disbelief. “Usually, bold means to make an intentional decision confidently. I don’t really define bold as obviously making a mistake to name me when I haven’t even introduced myself, but lets just support your delusions and move on from that.” As she tapped her heels with hearing his statements, she couldn’t help but mockingly laugh at him. “I am well aware of the dance that lingers around a masquerade. Don’t you forget, I have danced in the game so much that I could perform it in my sleep. Usually my boldness wouldn’t be this upfront had you not been so… openly confident in showing your true identity like a lunatic running around naked in the streets.”

As his statement began, the wait of this journey piqued her interest as she followed through every direction he had given her. With some confusion, she had wondered quite a lot of things, including why he was quite determined on this journey. Tapping on his shoulder, she looked at him with slight confusion and said, "And to whom are you referring to as ‘he’? I did not expect a third party to come, and I do not care that I look obvious. Who is he? I have my mask unfolded, and I could be implicated in whatever is happening! "

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@Jass - Dante