Realistic or Modern 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙂𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨….𝙄𝘾

[a z u l a]

vera diaz

T

he world itself seemed to bear its weight upon the tense shoulders of Vera Diaz. As if Atlas himself had handed over his ancient duty to her, she threatened to crack under the constant pressure, under the responsibilities she’d worked so hard to achieve. Class representative, interning at a prestigious law firm, co-captain of the debate team (which meant spending time with that smug bastard Paris Castalané).

Freedom was just within her reach, so close she could taste it on her tongue. Once she graduated, she could finally breathe. The weight of the world would lessen once she had her degree and secured her dream job. Once she graduated her parents would finally have to be proud of her, there would be no denying her worth with a Harvard Law degree. Only two more years of working herself into the ground and Vera would be able to live outside the gilded cage of expectations her parents had confined her in.

Until that day came, her shameful little vices would have to get her through. Vera had never been a big partier in high school. Sure, they were a great place to gather dirt on your enemies and watch people make fools of themselves, but that's exactly what she was afraid of. Vera had never, ever gotten truly drunk in public until college. The uptight class representative would never let alcohol loosen her inhibitions in front of her classmates, that was just asking for disaster.

And yet, as the semester ramped up Vera had found solace in the haze of partying. The last several months had been tumultuous for her to say the very least, and she had started to question if this was really who she was, or just a pretty picture she'd painted to please her parents.

That was how she’d found herself taking shots outside of the museum with Abe to soothe her anxiety before the party the Laurier's were throwing. Social events had always set her on edge, even though she’d mastered social warfare by the time she was 15 it didn’t come naturally to her the way it did to someone as charismatic as Abe.

Abe had just shoved the flask back into his pocket when both of their phones chimed in unison. Quirking an eyebrow, Vera exchanged a glance with her dealer before checking the notification.

“Oh shit.” Abe wasn’t alone in the sentiment, Vera was quickly picking her jaw off the floor as she looked up from the Tumblr page. The anonymous blog had posted about someone named Dionysus last week, but Vera had shrugged it off as nonsense. This time was different, the self-proclaimed delphiprophet had posted a picture inside the museum, amongst the overflowing party crowd.

What a lovely party one of our resident goddesses has thrown. Perhaps she shouldn’t have invited Aphrodite, considering she might drink the entire champagne tower by herself. Maybe she’ll be inebriated enough to give us a glimpse of the real Aphrodite behind the carefully crafted mask.

Silence hung heavy in the air between them, neither one daring to speak the dread building in their stomachs. Laughter somewhere nearby pulled them from their stupor, reminding them of the party inside, and the trap that lay within.

"Don't talk to me inside."

Vera gave Abe a firm look before setting her shoulders and striding up the steps into the lion’s den.

"Love you too V!"

Abe called from behind her, she didn’t even need to turn to know there was a cheeky grin on his obnoxious face.

The weight of a thousand eyes landed on her as she stepped through the threshold, a crowd who had certainly just seen the same post she had. Vera knew that she wasn’t Aphrodite or Dionysus, but that didn’t mean everyone else did. She met each stare with a silent threat in her eyes, venom dripping from her tongue as she prepared to strike the first person stupid enough to approach her.

Fortunately for everyone, they chose to mind their own business and a familiar voice pulled Vera from her vicious mood.

"You look like a goddess."

Vera gushed over Evelyn’s dress, the tension immediately releasing from her shoulders as her friend approached. In a world full of fake friends, Evelyn was the only real friend worth keeping.

Before they could begin to catch up, a chorus of chimes erupted throughout the crowd, sending nerves exploding throughout Vera’s entire body. Fingers clenched tightly around her phone as she opened the newest post from thedelphiprophet, threatening to slip from her hands as she spotted the picture of two silhouettes that looked disturbingly like herself and Abe outside only a few moments ago. It was far enough away that had she not known it was her, she wouldn’t have recognized herself beneath the mask.

Dionysus has already begun spreading his hedonism tonight. Who would believe our perfect maiden Athena would associate with a heathen like him? Then again, who else would supply her Adderall? Stay tuned to see what the rest of our beloved Olympians get up to tonight.

The breath caught in Vera’s chest as she frantically looked around the crowd, thankful to find no eyes on her but unable to find Abe in the crowd. If he was Dionysus, then that meant the first post had also been about him. But who was Aphrodite? Out of the three people who had been posted about she knew two of them, and she had a sinking feeling this wasn’t random.

"Are you okay?"

Evelyn’s voice cut through her panic, enough to rip her attention from her phone and settle her face into a well-practiced mask.

"I’m fine. It just seems a little too early in the year for all this drama."

Vera painted a smile onto her face, squeezing Evelyn’s hand and aiming for the bar.

"This isn’t a party unless we have a glass of champagne in our hands."

Vera tugged her through the crowd, desperate for more liquid courage to get her through the evening.

It was going to be a long night.

MOOD

venomous

OUTFIT

athena

LOCATION

the museum

TAGS

abe, evelyn, everyone

coded by xayah.ღ

 

[Stardust Galaxy]

evelyn sharp

hestia

Something about growing up in a family that belonged to the socialite was that these kinds of parties were kind of the norm. Showing off with pride their custom-made gowns and business talking was kind of like music to the ears of Evelyn. Don’t get her wrong, it wasn’t like she was just a materialistic girl; but knowing that everyone around her was pretending something that they weren’t made her feel at ease. This was ironic, knowing how everyone had this idea that nothing could go wrong in Evelyn’s life. But with each passing day, it became more difficult to keep that facade of the perfect Evelyn that everyone expected to see from her.

The evening was going smoothly, well not before she was told off by her parents to not mess it up, after all, they didn’t want another accident caused by Evelyn’s lack of responsibility which became a regular topic in their family and who couldn’t blame them since they had to face the reality of her actions every day in the form of a four-year-old, and while some might have thought they were advising Evelyn to not mess it up, it was more like we are getting older and we can’t cover for your mistakes anymore, because this time it wouldn’t exist a trip to France to hide her from everything and everyone.

The chirping sound of her phone was the one that took her out of her miserable thoughts and brought her back to reality seeing a notification of the so-called delphiprophet, Evelyn knew about the existence of the blog because it became the hot topic at the university but she didn’t pay attention as it didn’t involve her, but curiosity got the best of her as she slid the notification seeing the post. Seeing a picture of the museum sent a chill over Evelyn’s body. Was this person some kind of stalker?

“You look like a goddess.” Someone said and Evelyn would recognize that voice no matter what. She turned with a real smile towards her friend.

“I could say the same for you.”

Evelyn replied before they were interrupted by the chirping sound of another notification. This time, the post mentioned someone called Athena, but even if Evelyn tried, she couldn’t point out to which person the alias belonged. But it seemed someone was not feeling as calm as her as she made sure to ask Vera if she was okay after seeing the post.

“Don’t worry about this delphiprohet person, I am sure it’s just a nobody with a lot of time in their hands. It’s going to disappear sooner or later when they get bored.”

Evelyn reassured Vera once they arrived at the bar. The acidic taste and bubbliness of the champagne was a kind of sweetener in this entire situation. A moment where she could relax and forget everything, even for a slight moment, was endearing in a way.

“How’s the debate club? Do you still want to punch anyone that is in front of you for being co-captain with Paris?”

Evelyn said, as she took a sip of the champagne.

“I heard there’s this guy that is standing out nowadays. What was his name again? Jeffrey? Jerry? Jesse? Either way, I wish I could say the same about the golf club. The girls from the freshman year are going to end up making me lose my patience one of these days.”

mood: calm

outfit: XX

location: museum

tags: a z u l a

coded by Stardust Galaxy

 

[mangomilk]

MOOD: flirty 'n feisty.

OUTFIT:
• 2008 castalané collection suit.

• mask

LOCATION:bar.

basics

MENTIONS:
anais, vera, evelyn, (abe), open

INT:
erzulie a z u l a Stardust Galaxy

tags

TL;DR referring to various writers in no rational order and dragging vera.

tl;dr

paris castalané

and apollo strengthened the very arrow for paris to strike achilles' heel.

While others wore weights on their shoulders, he wore traces of feathers. Untouchable, with a smile so light and insufferably reckless. The world laid at his feet and Paris Castalané stepped on it like red carpet.

The estate glittered in prospering moonlight, warm lights lit up paths beside sharply cut edges of grass and clovers where fountains and springs weren’t far. Cold faces or in some cases fake affability were exchanged like in a game of cards. A game the frenchman played all too well despite chess being his usual forte. Knights jumped on rooks (he did not keep his rooks in the back row because he was not an instrumentalized side-character girl in a Salinger novel) and Paris manipulated his pawns to his liking.

A thick tear tumbled down his mask 'cause after all he, too, desired to excel in the etiquette and rule book of this masked ball. White met black but they did not mix; doomed to stay away, a star-crossed love of different spectrums. #ffffff and #000000. His white suit was an homage to the 2000s, of almond babes, blue eyeshadow and a thousand wristbands. Paris was a heavenly body before he fell from the sky, curls not quite as ginger as the world famous painting but curls and a hostile glare nonetheless.

His arm was held by the dark lady.
«Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe, That every tongue says beauty should look so.«
Dipped in embers of a dress he could still feel the blaze beside him, her fire never ceased and ashes never rose. He wore a jeweled golden cross, beaded in shiny details. A fortune spent in this clunky jewelry made by the very family of his date. Anais was a good match in looks, but cold was her heart that Paris did not hold. His hand brushed over her palm, held hers as they climbed down stairs towards the party and the bar that seemed to host any liquor of desire.

"You look spectacular," dark eyes met where the other set of fingers held onto her waist, pressed themselves against fabric before their feet carried them further.
As the both of them strolled towards the bar, Paris asked for fine wine:
"Tell me about the range"
– "We have an excellent Tempranillo tonight," the bartender displayed the dark bottle with golden wrapping. Paris inspected it, pointed his lips as if he were to make a sound but didn’t. Tsk.
"No. Thank you kindly. Any Chardonnay among the selective?"
– "Indeed," the bartender nodded, "This one is from Burgundy in France where it is still being traditionally aged in oak barrels."
"Barriques, yes. Two glasses, sir."

Paris swayed his white wine. It danced to his touch. He then raised his glass to Anais. Clink like their chardonnay moments ago, his phone chimed. Once. But Paris was no slave to his phone and hence he was yet to be informed about the tea that had spilled from its cup. Now that Anais stood next to him, he did not know what to converse with her about. She was god-fearingly beautiful, yes. She was intelligent, very much so. A match they were not. Not one word she’d pronounce would awaken much interest in Paris and he was aware of the mutual feeling. Before the summer, his shoes kept overstepping lines of her door where hands gripped hair and sheets in bed of silk. Lipgloss blended from one set of lips to others. But burned out flames should never re-ignite, he was aware. And he shall not. Still, Paris had asked her with confidence to take her to the ball for the sake of memories and the aesthetic. "How do you like the Chardonnay?" He was already craving his beloved Espresso Martini that he had spotted in the hands of another student.

More figures traveled towards the dance floor and the bar and while the attire of face-hiding masks made it harder to distinguish strangers from friends, he did make out his co-captain in debate and the like as well as her companion, ugh another wanna-be designer. Life imitates art where students act like deities on Olympus, an oil painting framed in gold.

"Diaz and her sidekick," he teased. "Why the long face? Did you fall off your high horse this early? The year has not even begun~"
Clink. His fingers slid in the pocket of his white suit’s pants. thedelphiprophet it read whereas the text referred to greek deities that seemingly resided here among them. He faintly remembered a text like this he had read before and brows furrowed lightly. Paris' eyes skimmed over the text and skipped words. The content he’d grade as – how he’d say – ‘striking’ but too obvious for his taste.

Dionysus, dionysus, his dearest friend.

Stop being stupid and incautious, will you? – money won’t repair broken reputation and this referred to both of them. The MDMA purchased from Abe waiting patiently on his kitchen counter thought so as well. With regard to Aphrodite and Athena...he had a good guess at best. Paris fumbled the phone back to his pants and shrugged. He scanned Vera and Evelyn up and down, dresses beautiful like the heavens. "I would ask you two for a dance, but you look a little stiff. Not that I wouldn't be able to change that~"

code by valen t.

 

[minajesty]

click!

JESSE S.

THE DELPHIPROPHET'S HADES

MOOD

preoccupied by beauty.

LOCATION

museum

OUTFIT

ATTIRE & MASK

TAGS

LUX ( lvcid )

MASQUERADE.

body crowning a skull that's usually a cauldron of stressors, jesse monroe simmons now stood among party-goers whose minds were fixated on outshining one another. the effervescence of the champagne sitting serenely in his crystalline flute would have been his only source of entertainment tonight if it wasn't for his picturesque arm-candy standing by him. arms linked like metal chains, simmons intended on keeping her close as everyone's cellulars reverberated in unison. it was an off-putting ordeal that had him wishing he could just ignore the vibration in the pocket of his slacks that was his own phone alerting him of a message.

he would have if he hadn't noticed the shimmering light reflecting off of the golden snakes of luciana's mask coming from her own.

in this case, curiosity had won. a sigh that carried a tint of annoyance managed to escape from his lips as his silver-accessory-adorned fingers swiped through his phone. navigating through the posts, he stopped to skim over a picture attached to the announcement made by the nefarious delphiprophet, a snippet of a moment in time depicting the crowd of guests standing before him. and before he could swipe the meaningless message away did another ping refresh his page. this time, it was more of a threat than the last.

"seems like this coward has nothing better to do than to type empty threats behind a screen," his naivety showed through his rather nonchalant tone of voice. there was nothing 'empty' about the posts despite the fact that jesse had yet to connect the dots. but any ounce of anxiety that snaked throughout his bloodstream wasn't visibly shown. if fact, he seemed rather bored instead of concerned as he shoved his phone back into his pocket and out of his mind.

there were better things on his agenda other than worry about what the delphiprophet had to say. better sights to see, he thought to himself as he diverted his attention back to his date.

although their relationship had been in result of their parents arranging a suitable partner for one another, there was no denying that jesse's admiration for lux was nothing short of genuine. the crystallized dress she was garbed in only further accentuated her natural-born beauty and the faultless lighting provided by the event seemed to draw a halo around her head. although he was certainly dressed to impress, she was the real show-stopper in his eyes. and she was doing so effortlessly.

"we're in a premise built to house art and yet you managed to outshine every last one of them, lux.." he communicated lovingly, his usual brooding demeanor seeming to soften in her presence. he wouldn't admit it, but it was only something she was capable of doing to him. and without compliance, did he love it. jesse secretly appreciated the little moments given where he could be soft for once. it wasn't often, but when it was, it was in the presence of her own.

"not that i'm surprised though," he added, letting what seemed to be a soft smile form upon his unblemished skin, "you do that often."

now playing...

A THOUSAND YEARS

christina perri (instrumental)

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[lvcid]

MOOD: anxious but also flirty

OUTFIT: xx

LOCATION: the museum

basics

MENTIONS:
abe a z u l a

INT:
jesse minajesty

tags

TL;DR between juggling an addiction and an unexpected crush, lux can’t catch a break.. how fun!!

tl;dr

luciana ruiz

there’s secrets and riddles that live in these walls; there’s ghosts of past heroes.

Lux Ruiz glittered with the light of a thousand suns, the beaded tendrils dangling from her golden dress shimmering against her tanned skin as they swayed in time with any leisurely movement she made.

Leisurely. What a funny word to describe her as she was anything but. She was good at playing the part, though, an easy smile pulling at the corners of her glossed lips, the sparkle of her mask enough to distract from the worry tainting her dark eyes. The moments when Lux was at ease now were few and far between and never without the aid of something strong to dull her senses, put her mind on pause. Luckily, money wasn’t a problem—she had more than enough to shovel out in chase of her temporary relief. Abe Suwan’s pockets were kept full on her account.

A chorus of chimes erupted across the space, and for such a cheery noise, the silence that followed was eerie and stifling, as if all previous mirth was being smothered under a heavy blanket of impending ruin.

If the night continued on in this same manner, Lux might be making another donation to Abe’s bank account sooner than she’d anticipated.

The elusive threat known only anonymously as thedelphiprophet had become a plague upon the house of cards in which the wealthy and entitled sat, the walls shaking more and more with each cryptic post, threatening to topple and take everyone inside down with them. There had only been three messages from thedelphiprophet thus far, but it was enough to set Lux on edge. Each time her phone buzzed, it sent her stomach into a frenzy of uncoordinated somersaults.

They know what I did. It was the one thought that had been haunting her since the account had first made themselves known. She felt completely and utterly trapped; similar to watching a horror movie, Lux knew there were more victims to come and wondered who would be next, except this time, she was on the roster too.

Lux’s grip on Jesse’s arm tightened almost imperceptibly as her eyes scanned the newest post. A quiet sigh of relief when she realized she was in the clear, Lux’s gaze lifting to the crowd sprawled in the grand room before her. Anyone could’ve been Aphrodite; there was hardly a person in attendance without a crystalline glass in hand, hues of reds and ambers, whites and pinks sloshing inside.

The comfort was short-lived as the gossip page refreshed of its own accord, another scathing yet no less mysterious assortment of words flashing before Lux. Yet, again, she was safe.

For now.

Lux forced out a laugh, hoping that Jesse wouldn’t take note of the uneasy waver in her voice. “Right?” she agreed. “Like, get a hobby or something.”

Clearly, they already had one, but Lux meant something other than tormenting people online behind the safety net of a screen and a private VPN, like croquet or water polo.

By now, Lux should’ve known better than to allow the saccharine poeticism of a man to have any effect on her, but the butterflies that hammered against her ribcage and the blush that dusted her cheeks said otherwise as she raised her glass to hide the shy grin that had overtaken her delicate mouth. She couldn’t help herself, too easily coaxed into the palm of one’s hand with pretty language, even if they were lying through their perfect teeth.

The jury was still out on Jesse Simmons. Maybe he was more genuine than Lux let herself believe. He wasn’t like Jonah, that much was certain, though the circumstances weren’t entirely dissimilar. Lux had never intended to fall for either of them, but they were both dangerously handsome, in their own ways, and she was powerless against their magnetism. It scared her to realize that she’d willingly stumbled into a situation where the past had the opportunity to repeat itself, but as much as she was aware that she should distance herself for the sake of self-preservation, it was proving to be difficult. While Jesse had a reputation for being rough around the edges, he’d never been anything short of gentle with Lux. How he acted now only further proved that point.

Lux peered up at Jesse through thick eyelashes, drinking in his soft expression. “You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl,” she teased with a tilt of her head. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like me.” Lux took her bottom lip between her teeth, playfully pressing a fingertip into Jesse’s chest with her free hand.

She could poke fun all she wanted, but the giggle that slipped out betrayed her true feelings, foolish as they were. Perhaps Abe and his inventory of illicit substances could wait a while longer after all.

Downing the rest of her champagne, Lux slipped her hand into Jesse’s and gave it a light tug. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go look around, even if I am prettier than all the art.” The brunette paused, pursing her lips as she studied Jesse with faux scrutiny. “You’re not too bad, either.”

Her serious façade cracked in two, face splitting into a bright smile. Out of all the people Lux’s parents could’ve forced upon her, she was glad it was Jesse.

code by valen t.

 

[idiot]

scroll

ALIYA H.

museum

reggie

n/a

One hand delicately paged through the monstrous textbook that was Advanced Molecular Biology: 5th Edition, trained eyes darting across the page, soaking the information in. You would think she was cramming for an exam if said exam wasn’t for another three weeks. Aliya actually enjoyed studying, something her mother could never accept, always scolding her for not being out socialising. Y’know, people are gonna peg you as that weird, quiet kid—just show up to a party once in a while.

The other held a make-up brush that still sat awkwardly in her hand, Aliya only started wearing make up when she met Reggie and it still never felt right. She remembered her mother being delighted to hear those words come from a fifteen-year-old Aliya. If Aliya was being honest, she missed those nights, her mother would touch her face with her manicured nails, lightly dusting powder onto her face as they spoke about how much of a looker Reggie was.

Reggie’s attractiveness warped over the years and Aliya finally understood the saying: Someone’s personality can make them seem more attractive—or the opposite in this case.

As though on cue, a well-dressed Reggie snaked into the room that was once a study the two shared. Aliya promptly asked for her own room in Reggie’s lavish apartment as soon as they moved in. His parents had bought it for him — that’s right bought, not rented — as a graduation present for getting into Harvard. Or was the present the brand new car that sat barely driven in the garage. Or maybe the heavy, gold watch that was fixed to his wrist presently.

It began as shock and bewilderment when she first entered his parent’s estate. All the beautiful adornments and expensive furniture that was spread sparsely around the gigantic floor plan. Soon enough she would learn that clothing and furniture for the wealthy were similar to a napkin — used once and promptly thrown away.

Aliya was wracked with guilt at the world she had been thrown into it and often was met with her stomach twisting at the sight of a new materialistic gift from Reggie that could feed a family for the next year.

No one needed all this wealth.

Yet, Aliya stayed.

Once a willing participant, Aliya had shackled herself and thrown away the key after she became aware of Reggie’s escapades. It would all be worth it, Aliya often told herself. It was out of necessity—right? She would become a doctor and make up for all of it, saving those in need. Another part of her wondered if deep down she liked the lifestyle Reggie had afforded her. The latter made her even more sick, the very thought making her not realise Reggie was talking.

“Huh?” Aliya’s voice was meek and small, still missing the all-too-confident tone that Reggie and his friends had.

Reggie sighed, having inconvenienced him apparently, “—I said, are you ready? The limousine will be here in like fifteen minutes.”

Aliya couldn’t stifle her laughter.

“What’s so funny—Ali?”

She hated that nickname. Reggie knew that too.

“Nothing. Just, uh, you know—we could drive ourselves for once. Maybe catch a cab, something that doesn’t set back your mother’s bank account.”

Now it was Reggie’s turn to laugh.

“Oh dear, Ali, you would think by now you’d learnt that money is no issue for my family. Maybe yours but not mine.”

Asshole—

“Plus, I get an allowance. Oh and, we have expectations and appearances to maintain. None of my friends—or anyone of importance for that matter—is showing up in a cab.” Reggie was staring past Aliya, his eyes intently admiring himself through the reflection of the mirror that was propped above the desk in front of her.

It reminded her of the word she had found in her daily crossword—Autosexual. 1 down: a sexual attraction to oneself (10 letters).

Reggie had opted for a gold, or as Reggie corrected her ‘pink champagne’ suit that was opened to reveal a see-through mesh top that was embroidered with a wreath motif. The same motif was seen in the matching overcoat. If that wasn’t enough, he had a white full-faced mask that resembled that of the old Greek statutes.

Aliya complimented Reggie’s opulence with an unassuming sculpted, gathered dress that would hopefully let her sink into the background of the expected extravagant outfits that Reggie’s friends would be adorned with.

A sense of familiarity was met at the sight of the museum. Yet, as the driver opened the limousine door, the same museum she would frequent after school was barely recognisable. The foundations were all that remained, the wealthy having gutted all that made the place spectacular in her eyes. In its place was the semblance of a ball that had been hired out.

They hired out a museum for a night to host a ball. It took a moment to sink in as they ascended the museum’s steps.

Aliya wouldn’t be surprised to find Abe or Lux riding on the back of the museum’s Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton at this point. Who cares if they broke a fragile fossil that dated back 89 million years ago?

The rich always got what they wanted and each day she would find herself desensitised to the never ending reach they had on the world.

“Looks like that internet troll is posting again,” Reggie gestured to the Tumblr page that Aliya had become familiar with thanks to Reggie and well most of Harvard really. They had been posting about those in Harvard, usually salaciously, revealing everyone’s dark secrets but behind the anonymity of aliases that were from Greek mythology. Thanks to Reggie not being able to keep his mouth shut about the gossip in his friend group and her intellect, Aliya felt she had some hypothesises for some of their identities.

If Aliya was being completely honest, she was a fan of the delphiprophet.

Walking into the museum, Reggie clasped Aliya’s hand tightly and his tone changed, reminiscent of younger days. An all too rehearsed Reggie took his place.

“Now, let us mingle. Remember to smile, Ali—you want to show everyone how much we love each other.”

A fan of how the mysterious figure was exposing the secrets of the elite. Aliya saw them as a vigilante of sorts, taking from them the one thing they couldn’t buy from the infamous delphiprophet—their skeletons in the closet being exposed.

Aliya didn’t feel she was on the delphiprophet’s radar, in fact, she felt they were on the same side. This was emphasised by the all-too-familiar feeling that overwhelmed her as she walked into the sea of trust-fund college students.

Reggie could dress her up as much as he wanted, pincushioning her with expensive jewellery but Aliya was aware of the look some of Reggie’s friends gave her. A look that said everything it needed:

—you will never be one of us.

A charity case.

An imposter.

An outsider.

Aliya had heard it all. Yet, she wasn’t embarrassed of who she was and Aliya had no problem of telling her peers, especially Reggie’s friends, of how upbringing.

So yes, that is why she didn’t think the delphiprophet would ever post about her. Sure, Aliya had secrets—some that she was deeply ashamed of, but ones that surely were a mere pin drop to those around her—right?

Reggie on the other hand was a different story. As she stood next to him, his arm around her waist, he spoke to a group of his peers. Yet his eyes were already wandering once more to a pretty blonde by the drinks table.

It was going to be a long night.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Soap]

MOOD: Eh.

OUTFIT:
click this
​

INFO

LOCATION:
somewhere

WITH: Nate

MENTION: Lux, Cleo​

ACTIVITY

She's broke and came here with Nate to fool her parents into thinking she's their version of normal. BELIAL.

TAGS

Devyn B.M. | Tyche

— So Close

She stared back at her reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing the way the dress clung to her form. Devyn wasn't one to put a huge effort into her appearance; that much was no secret. She ran a hand over the smooth, gold fabric of the dress she was wearing, the solemn quiet of the room brought her a sense of unexpected peace.

Lux had left a while ago, and while her roommate wasn't a psychopath or anything, Devyn couldn't shake the feeling that someone that nice and seemingly naïve had to be playing some kind of role. It took a special amount of effort not to tear the dress off and throw it into the bin along with Lux's scattered candy wrappers. They agreed to get this apartment together after being paired up freshman year. Devyn would rather live alone, but seeing as though her parents temper tantrums has a direct impact on her bank account-- she thought it best to have a albeit very annoying at times, idiotic-- but rich roommate.

At least the girl was pretty, her looks would get her farther in life that her IQ could not.

Devyn's gaze lingered on the dress and her lips pursed. She didn't think she looked bad per say. She was just uncomfortable.

Dresses weren’t really her thing after all.

Parties weren’t her thing either.

And the people? Yeah, you guessed it.

Yet, despite her reservations, Devyn had found herself tumbling headfirst into a situation that felt like a version of hell even she couldn't escape from. The question lingered in her mind: What had led her to this point?

Her phone vibrated against the dresser and she lifted it to read an alert.

Celtics lose to the Heat. Final score 45-68.

Right. That’s what led her to this point. The brunette mumbled a string of curses under her breath with a sharp inhale, her jaw clenching while a black manicured nail swiped against the screen.

Current Balance: $24.23

She was broke.

The last few weeks she’d been able to get by on most of her winnings– but she’d gotten trigger happy and bet most of her savings on tonight’s game. A mental reminder that no matter how much Nate talked overs and unders– never ask a linebacker on their opinion of basketball, their testosterone takes over. His 3.8 GPA was amounting to a bunch of nothing– don’t ask how she knew that.

Many things were better left unsaid with Devyn.

She opened social media and scrolled through the countless meaningless pictures people she knew had posted– momentarily pausing when she’d seen a picture of her parents and Cleo’s mother. They couldn’t resist a party thrown by her– she was the reason why they were thriving. Cleo's parents and her own were business partners for years.

Which is the reason why she was going in the first place-- not for Cleo nor her parents, but Devyn needed to play the dutiful daughter just until the accounts were in the clear to take from.

The other pictures were of the people she knew– but didn’t intimately. They were smiling, whether it’d be on their lonesome, with family or partners…

The longer Devyn stared, the more disgusted she grew. It was all a façade, she realized. Their smiles were nothing but masks hiding the truth. The irony of it all wasn't lost on her as her gaze shifted to her own mask that rested perfectly on the foot of her bed.

She absentmindedly scrolled and froze on;

Thedelphiprophet

What a lovely party one of our resident goddesses has thrown. Perhaps she shouldn’t have invited Aphrodite, considering she might drink the entire champagne tower by herself. Maybe she’ll be inebriated enough to give us a glimpse of the real Aphrodite behind the carefully crafted mask.

Devyn wasn’t sure what it was about exactly, it wasn’t anything shocking– but it was enough to raise an eyebrow. "Huh," she uttered, her expression filled with contemplation rather than surprise.
__

She knew she needed more than just a dress and a smile to deceive her parents. Opening the door to the blue sports car, Devyn slid in as Nathaniel lowered the volume of the radio. "Celtics lost. You don't know jack-shit," she remarked with a smile, “saw the game earlier in one of the common rooms.”

Her gambling hobby remained a well-guarded secret, and she intended to keep it that way. The people around her tended to be judgmental, but she couldn't care less about their opinions. She had no interest in hearing their concerns or conforming to their expectations.

Especially when it came to Nate. He was one of the only people Devyn considered real. Their relationship was strictly platonic, although her parents were unaware of that fact, and there was no need for them to know. Nate's charming smile and conventionally attractive appearance crafted her own perfect façade, fooling her parents into believing she was living the ideal life they envisioned for her. Even just for a night.

Though, she didn't exactly tell Nathaniel that's the reason she had asked to go with him.

Devyn lightly applauded. “Oh, wow, I guess chivalry isn't dead.” She said, taking in his knightly appearance. Her words were light and said with a lilt of tease. "There'll be plenty of dragons there that'll need slaying." She said with heavy emphasis, an overdramatic salute his way.

Devyn shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the itchy fabric of her dress. After their brief conversation, Nate turned the radio back on, and she occupied herself with her phone, seeking distraction until they reached their destination—the masquerade gala, or whatever it was supposed to be.

Nobody knew her parents had cut her off either. The more she thought about it— the more Devyn began to realize she was hiding more from her peers than intended. She glanced at Nate and studied him as he drove. Was it wrong she was using him?

Debatable.

In truth, he was doing her a favor. His role was simple: stand by her side and look good. If she'd told him the truth about why she wanted to attend, about the money, he'd probably help her out. Except she didn't want that. Her parents owe her. He didn't.

She didn't want handouts from her friends. Devyn redirected her gaze towards the window and shook her head at the term. Could she consider any of these people her 'friends?' Probably not. But they were a hell of a lot better than her own family, so that says something.

When they rolled up amongst the many cars alike his own, limousines and countless guests dressed in outfits that likely outpriced this car had Devyn take a heavy breath to prepare herself. "What the fuck is this party even for?" she muttered, more as a rhetorical question than something directed at Nate. She held the mask in hand, twirling it around as they stepped out of the car and Nate handed his keys to the valet, she couldn't help but answer her own question, "Just an excuse to dress up and silently show off?"

She wasn’t fond of Cleo’s parents.

And it wasn’t because they had sent her away for… Devyn still didn’t know what that reason was until today. Even with the digging she’d done– or how many times she asked– she was shut down every time. Enough time had passed that Devyn had let it go by now– but her distaste for her parents stayed amongst many other reasons beyond Cleo.

A doorman welcomed them and held the door open while Devyn brought the mask to her face, the ornate design contrasting with her disinterested expression. The surroundings of the venue stirred up memories. The countless parties she had been forced into attending, the conversations she wished she could have avoided. It seemed like half the people in the room were nothing more than egotistical dickheads.

"Did you see that prophet thing?" she asked, her voice raised slightly to be heard over the crowd and soft classical music she somehow found comforting. A passing waiter with a tray caught her attention, and she deftly lifted two glasses, handing one to Nate. Whether the champagne was overpriced or not, they weren't paying for it and-- she took a satisfyingly heavy sip.

It still tasted good.

A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of her lips. "Wanna guess who it is?" she asked, her gaze sweeping over the array of guests already present, as if she were on the hunt for a particular person.

"My money's on one of the cheerleaders..."

code by valen t.

 

[erzulie]

Anais

LOCATION: museum
INTERACTIONS: paris, vera, evelyn
MENTIONS: n/a
TAGS: mangomilk , a z u l a , Stardust Galaxy

Nemesis had arrived in a sweep of glittering fabric. With each step the fire at her feet threatened to pure the ground beneath her. Had it been Hephaestus who formed the piece that she wore? The color of hot metal not yet cooled and hard stone glittered in the light. It drew the high, tempting the brave to reach out and touch in hopes of being burned by her fire. Even to the eyes of the tasteless, it was easy to recognize the artsy in her gown. The care in which it had been crafted was something worth admiring. There was a juxtaposition in the way the fabric flowed like water and shone as the most precious of stones.

Careful, experienced hands were responsible for the gleaming rubies, black star sapphires, and gold that made up the dress. She stepped with all of the confidence of a goddess in the presence of worshippers. The wings of her mask hid her features. Though many associated them with angels, she knew well that demons were depicted with them. Anais Keating was both divine and unholy in the deepest sense.

Her date was opposite in every way yet they did not clash. It was how their entire relationship could be summed up. The history behind them, to her, felt like an old book. Anais returned to it at times, enjoying the well worn pages and the chapters that she knew like the back of her hand. They were not together and hadn’t been for a long time, but she couldn’t deny that something inside of her liked to keep him tucked fairly close. Sometimes she found herself ripping out his pages, only to carefully piece them together again.

He spoke to her with a fact that she already knew but nevertheless she smiled. Anais didn’t need to tell him that he was stunning himself, he knew and she didn’t feel like inflating his ego. Instead she sipped at her wine, playing the part of the arm candy while he spoke. Just as she gave her opinion on the wine, her date was speaking to someone else. Anais looked them over from behind her mask. “Don’t overestimate yourself. You can barely handle the woman that you’re with now, nevermind two.” Her acrylics were long and pointed, painted to look like sparking red gems. They gripped his chin tight, turning his gaze to meet her own. “You’re as shameless as ever.” With that she released and took another sip of her wine. Her words, while biting, held little heat behind them.

code by low fidelity.

 

[BELIAL.]

juliet o'shea

arachne

walking up to museum, outside

weirded out, cold

interactions

spencer (via text) .V1LLAINISM._

Theatrics were her thing, but when put against the grand scheme of people who probably couldn’t give less of a shit what she was wearing unless it was downright atrocious or ripped off of someone’s back, Juliet oft wavered in assuredness.

There was the personal pleasure in wearing what one wanted, how one wanted, and to appear as they so believed they were to the world and its stage. In most instances, Juliet O’Shea was a mere player. She’d bow her head to those who preferred to talk oh so loudly, letting the indignation fester inside like a rotten core. Theatrics were her thing, but there were times where the sidelines and the space between the stage and the curtain felt far too suffocating to even venture toward. She didn’t want the crown, hot from eager fingers; she didn’t want the throne, crowded by opportunistic vultures.

She wanted her own path, her own road, and sometimes she wished she had the ability to not doubt this desire. As always when confronted by these insecurities, she’d bend, again and again, where the pushing and screaming seemed to circle from all around. For one night, maybe, she’d afford herself a little luxury. Without feeling the need to gloat or show off, pretending that she too was as high and mighty as the other so called Gods; stuffing their faces with golden ambrosia until it came splitting from their sides.

Heavenly bodies, a grandiose theme, implied much beyond its words. The interpretation could go beyond the immediate distinction, to plants and their moons and stars, to deities of myth and legend. Juliet figured she’d dress for somewhere in between, not wanting to turn down the theatrics of a grand silhouette, but not wanting to look as if she was auditioning for a busty background actor in Julius Caesar. She opted for gold and wine honey, finding that it complimented the copper in her hair and the pink in her cheeks nicely.

Once the mask was on, and although she’d known it was a masquerade, there was a sort of shocked guard that settled over her shoulders. Protection, in some form; of the mind, and the soul. It was always rejuvenating to put on a new persona, to fixate so deeply on something that it changed her DNA.

At first it was journalism, and she did still enjoy it-- but now, really, it was acting and the arts that pulled her. If she didn’t know better, that her dad wouldn’t break all the blood vessels in his head from anger, she’d go ahead and change her major. Hell, she probably would have changed it about five times now if she had her way. Her mother was always supportive in the airheaded, empty way. Do what you want, she’d say. A direct translation to: I don’t care, just don’t get expelled. Don’t flunk. I did my part getting you in, you do your part.

So, for the times given where she could at least pretend for a breath that she was someone greater, Juliet took them. She knew she looked like a downright idiot in her car, though, judging by all the cranked necks that were stuck on her when she drove by. By the time she’d arrived she’d already thrown the headband into the passenger seat, massaging her temples beneath the veil and trying not to fuck up her hair.

With one hand, squinting her way through a self-inflicted migraine, she texted some of her other friends, not of the ‘group’ that seemed to stick from first year, to see if anyone was there. A few buzzes told her that a couple of the girls were there, so a small relief at least.

She didn’t hate her friend group, the other other one. Everyone was just really, really different when you looked at them as a whole; even Juliet could see it. There was a comfort in having something absolute to fall back on, but she knew in her mind that they either saw her as stuck-up as the rest of them or like some sort of wannabe outcast for always feeling so on edge.

Wouldn’t they, if they were in her position?

Either way, she figured that gradual degradation or the eventual graduation would separate the group. It would be a mercy killing later, when life went ahead and sunk its claws bone deep to rip and tear.

Her phone buzzed again, and with a glance over she saw it was a notification that a certain someone had posted. Some stupid troll, or someone with a huge imagination, that wanted to become notorious. Juliet didn’t give it a second glance most of the time, figuring that whoever it was, they were probably just trying to pen their next best novel… through Tumblr. Not the greatest of exploits, surely, but chronically online people had to do something to pass the time.

But, in this post, she did quirk an eyebrow seeing the picture attached to it. If she knew any better, she’d assume it was from the party. Tonight.

“Fucking stalker…,” Juliet mumbled under her breath, throwing her phone into her purse and putting the headband back on. She double checked that she’d tied her mask properly, lifting a pinky to touch up the edge of her lipstick, and exited her vehicle. It was a short walk from where she’d wanted to park, away from everyone, but she figured the autumnal air would do her good before the inevitable suffocation of niceties and back-talking snark.

Pulling out her phone as she walked she threw a wayward text to someone she was sure she’d hope to see, at least. Spencer seemed a lot more genuine than the others. He always did.

looks like that tumblr weirdo w/ the greek god fetish is at the party tonight. Are you there already? Better touch up if people are getting photographed. Could be you next, lol.

She sent the text with a small chuckle to herself. Her heels clicked on the concrete, Juliet looking both ways before crossing the street.

coded by natasha.

 

[BELIAL.]

nathaniel gardner

heracles

museum, inside

elated, high-spirits

interactions

devyn Soap

Between the need to do his best, show up to practise and give it his all, Nate loved letting loose. His schedule was thoroughly dictated, matched to the day and hour with what to do and where to go (for no reason other than a sense of control). But with any airtight scheduling, especially when it was out of his own hands, gaps appeared. Days, evenings even. That was when he could, finally and thoroughly, release all of the air he held in his chest. Like he didn’t know he’d been holding it.

As uptight as a ball with the theme of ‘heavenly bodies’ was, he thought it was cute. He wasn’t one for dressing up in costumes, always the guy at Halloween with the ‘This Is My Costume’ shirt, but at his sister’s behest he did, in fact, put something on. She was persistent like that, always finding a way of making it make sense. You’d look out of place in a tux, come on. It’s a party. It’s masked. At least get a mask. The mask had then quickly snowballed into a whole costume.

And if you show up as someone’s knight in shining, heavenly armour? Wouldn’t that be so cute!

It’s not really the theme though, is it? It’s… it’s Heavenly Bodies. Like planets? Or, like, God I guess?

Nate, it’s silver. That’s fine enough. Also when did you suddenly become the party costume police?

After trying on the get-up a few times he actually felt a little handsome in it, in the weird renaissance fair why that he was sure appealed to those types of people. The silver was a good choice, like his sister said, and though it brought out the cooler tones in his skin and eyes, he still felt like he was glowing. Which was weird to fathom, but hey, if he looked good nobody would be complaining then, right?

"Celtics lost. You don't know jack-shit," Devyn had said as soon as she entered the car. It was enough to make him snort and shrug, giving her one raised eyebrow.

“Well you saw more of it than me. And I do, in fact, know jackshit. I’ve been to a grand total of two basketball games in my entire life,” he said with a light-hearted laugh, pulling out and changing gears with a sudden increase of speed. He turned the volume back up, but his car was suited enough that the front seat didn’t get their ears blasted despite the noise.

She remarked next on his costume, earning another laugh from Nate. He looked over, a smile curling on his lips.

“Yeah yeah, get it all out now. I know it’ll make you feel better.” His own tone was light, matching hers. Any other person and he’d probably get heated from the comments. It wasn’t like he’d picked the costume, really, anyway. Devyn got a pass, though.

A natural, comfortable silence overtook them; outshined by the music playing anyway. Nate took to gently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Music was always a background for him, a nice focus when things were busy. He’d been driving for years now, but the smaller and faster cars got, the more anxious he got hopping into one. As nice as they were, and he loved his Bugatti, it was still something he was getting used to.

The speakers were, though, real fuckin’ nice.

They arrived, the museum nicer than he’d thought (he wasn’t one to go to museums often, really), and after handing the keys to the valet, stuck his hands in the pockets of his trousers, thankful that they existed in this costume, nodding and taking in the surrounding visitors and scenery.

At the question of the prophet, and a flute of champagne, he quickly and deftly returned it to the waiter’s passing tray.

“No, I didn’t. Are people still hung up on that shit?” Nate’s lips pursed, shaking his head. He didn’t understand the fascination.

At Devyn’s further questioning, and the grin on her face, he rolled his eyes.

“Cheerleaders? Of all the people… not even any of the weirdo comp sci kids? They’re always staring, I swear. Either way… Man, I don’t know. It’s probably best if we just ignore it. It’s always someone who wants attention, and who’s gonna say some shit to get people talking. It’s probably not even real, either. Loaded stories and bullshit.”

He exhaled through his teeth, shaking his head. Okay, maybe it irritated him that everybody seemed to be talking about the prophet of Sparta or whatever. Gossipmongers were no good to have around, breathing down people’s neck and pointing their fingers.

Nate didn’t wanna see the potential ramifications, anyway… if they were true.

“Besides, there are better things to think about than some online weirdo. Like, say, all this beautiful art.” His words were grand, loaded with cheek and sarcasm, but while he wasn’t serious about the comment, he did wanna change the subject.

coded by natasha.

 

[a z u l a]

vera diaz

T

he mere light that radiated off of someone as bright as Evelyn shone like rays of sun on Vera's cold skin, cascading like shards of stained glass in a holy ground to illuminate the wretched soul that was Vera. It softened her jagged edges, made her want to shed her skin, from a viper into a garden snake.

The weight felt less all-consuming, a backpack instead of a boulder when she had the hands of a friend to help. Vera didn't have many of those. There were plenty of people who would gladly use her to their own benefit, but a mere few who looked out for the girl beneath the mask. As good as she was with words, Vera never could quite string the right ones together to tell Evelyn what her friendship meant, instead only lessening her fangs as an olive branch when she was around.

Still, even this practical saint couldn't declaw the cornered animal that resided in her soul. With a pointed sip of her champagne, Vera ignored her comment about the so-called prophet, choosing to focus on more important matters instead.

"I'd love nothing more than to wipe that stupid smirk off his smug face."

Though she smiled at Evelyn, her words dripped malice acidic enough to melt the marble floor beneath them.

"I'm sorry to hear about the golf team. Not everyone can be as perfect as us, you know."

Vera winked, nudging her friend lightly as she swept a calculating gaze across the floor.

"Speak of Satan and he shall appear."

Fangs twisted into a saccharine grin, a poised picture of rage. There was something archaically poetic about the contrast in nature that sprung forth from her in the presence of Paris as opposed to Evelyn.

The support and pure genuineness that her best friend showered her in made her question her actions, caused her to consider why she felt the need to bite before she was bitten. Paris was a stark reminder of exactly why she lunged for the throat, to be a member of high society meant to kill or be killed, and Vera was no prey. Though she respected his wit, her beloved co-captain was a threat to her status and the future just within her reach. Nothing and no one would stand between her and success, not even the most talented of snake charmers.

Others might be content to wrap themselves around Paris' every whim like a silk scarf, but he had nothing to offer Vera except a stepping stone to her full potential.

"Funny, shouldn't you be- I don't know, fucking off or something?"

Vera shot back. A familiar beauty stood just behind his shoulder, more divine than Paris could ever hope to be. The heiress looked like vengeance incarnate, a feast of fiery jewels and shining gems. That green-eyed monster flashed through her quick as lightning, dismissed before she could let it consume her. Vera had always admired Anais, it was a shame she'd stooped to the bottom of the barrel for the Frenchman.

"It was nice of Anais to let you off of your leash for the night. Is your relationship so boring that losing a debate with me is more entertaining?"

Her head tilted, a cat playing with its prey before striking. Despite the distaste she had for him, it was always amusing to play this game with him.

"I think Evelyn's taste might be a little too refined for you."

MOOD

venomous

OUTFIT

athena

LOCATION

the museum

TAGS

evelyn, paris, anais, everyone

coded by xayah.ღ

 

[a z u l a]

abe suwan

L

ife was one never-ending party for Abe Suwan. Crystalized glasses, illicit substances, and muse inspiring lovers passed through his desirous fingers in an endless cycle. Pleasure was Abe's business, he offered a plethora of mind-altering substances to those needing an escape from reality and a pair of adept lips to those who prefered other means of distraction.

What made Abe so desirable to his customers was how tightly his lips were sealed, an incarnation of the silent god Harpocrates. The hotel heir knew all too well the need to distance oneself from your own life, to want to be anywhere but within your own body.

Falling endlessly into one maladaptive daydream after another was better than living in the real world. There had never been anywhere that Abe had truly belonged, not Singapore, not California, not New York. Even now in such a large group of friends Abe felt that he was not truly one of them. Most of them had been friends since puberty, he was a late addition only found useful because of his connections.

Purpose only seemed to find him when he was surrounded by other people, a benevolent pleasure god in a throng of desperate souls, handing out pockets of release in any way he could. They might not care from him as a person, but they needed him to survive, and that was as close to love as Abe had ever gotten.

That was how he found himself passing a discreet bag of Adderall into Vera Diaz' thousand dollar clutch. They were an unlikely duo, so much so that Vera would probably die before being seen with him outside of their usual friend group. Even around the others, they didn't converse much, Athena was much too pious to dirty her hands with Dionysus.

But business was business, the class representative was a perfect customer, no nonsense and always straight to the exchange. Except tonight there was a bit of nonsense to be had, the brunette lingering longer than she usually would. Though others often pegged him as a careless idiot, Abe was not entirely clueless, in fact he would even label himself a professional at reading others. It was how he found new clients, by noticing who most needed a slip from their reality.

Vera was one of those people, even if her drug of choice was more tame than his more popular kinds. So he threw her an olive branch, a flask tucked tightly into his coat pocket, pouring her a shot to make it seem like it was his idea, not hers. Much too proud to ask, but too desperate to not need it. He wondered what plagued such a brilliant mind but knew better than to ask, only offering his silent shoulder to her in the way he would anyone he sold to.

The alcohol was still warm in his stomach as their phones chirped, an ill-intended omen awaiting them. Abe didn't let much bother him, but this delphiprophet had him worried. It wasn't hard for him to piece together that he was meant to be Dionysus, and it wasn't particularly hard to imagine why someone might want to tarnish his reputation. Plenty of his former customers had gone to rehab or been caught with his product on them over the years, and countless hearts had been broken by his unserious nature.

What he couldn't quite figure out was why they'd want to bring others into this mess. At first it had seemed targeted at him specifically, but now it seemed he was a mere footnote in a bigger story. He had to admit that Athena was quite a fitting alias for Vera, but Aphrodite could be anyone. He'd keep his eyes open and mind clear tonight on the search for this delphiprophet and whoever the poor goddess of love might be.

With the grace of a feline predator, Abe prowled through the bejeweled crowd, searching for something to keep his mind and hands occupied.

And there she was, the blood of the Gods dripped down upon the Earth, the divine feminine in the flesh. Anais Keating, sharp nails and a sharper tongue. She had one of his most faithful customers by the throat in every sense of the word, fingers painted to seemingly drip with blood. She was a sight to behold, and how desperately he wanted to hold a woman like her.

"Unfortunately for my dear Paris, I have to agree with Vera."

It was a joke, and yet, not quite.

"Aren't you tired of him by now? "

Abe practically purred, flagging down the bartender for a glass of whatever went down the easiest.

"If you ever want a taste of the finer side of pleasure, you have my number."

It wasn't lost on him that Anais would likely never take him up on that offer, she was a woman of taste and although he was a delicacy himself, she had incredibly high selection criteria that he didn't quite meet. That was all fine and well with him, it was the chase that he enjoyed more than anything, a distraction from the hellscape that was life.

MOOD

on the prowl

OUTFIT

dionysus

LOCATION

the museum

TAGS

vera, anais, paris

coded by xayah.ღ

 

[minajesty]

click!

JESSE S.

THE DELPHIPROPHET'S HADES

MOOD

content & in high spirits.

LOCATION

museum

OUTFIT

ATTIRE & MASK

TAGS

LUX ( lvcid )

MASQUERADE.

the gentle touch that was lux' finger against his dress coat made his small grin crack into a toothy smile, one beaming with genuine joy and obvious affection for his date. her playful demeanor melted a barrier that viciously guarded his heart of stone, sending beams of radiant light wrapping around it and engulfing him whole. being in the presence of lux ruiz was like finding the sun after roaming through pitch-black darkness that seemed neverending; it made jesse want to fasten his heart and soul to her own as if letting go meant his eternal demise.

in his eyes, she was the embodiment of the heavens and the epitome of beauty and grace he was keen on guarding against any evil that dared to snake its way to her. he would throw himself in evil's wake before it would get the chance to.

but in this moment, jesse didn't need to. by the way lux led him in confidence knowing that she had her very own cerberus by her side, all that was left to do was admire her figure from behind. god was she beautiful, was all jesse could think as his gaze fastened on every beaded tendril that only accentuated her alluring humanity. the dress she was garbed in actively failed to make her look good as she was the one making it worth wearing. the fabric would be meaningless without her in it.

on their way across the floor, jesse abandoned his now empty glass onto a passing tray in the hands of a waiter before taking another. the room began to quickly fill to its maximum capacity the more time went on, attendees and gossipmongers laughing and whispering to themselves as if they didn't have all the time in the world to catch up before the masquerade event. simmons understood that it was all a facade, rich laughs secretly laced with venom knowing that their eyes would be filled with a million needles because of their future betrayals against one another. it wasn't a crowd he wanted to make friends with, especially now that thedelphiprophet was on a frenzy tonight.

it could be any one of you.

for a moment, his much-known bitch face almost returned as he dissociated, letting thoughts fog his memory before he realized who his hand was clasped with again. lux ruiz. as easily as his mind slipped, jesse was quick to melt in his leather shoes once more. he would be forever thankful for her, even if she didn't understand on his own personal level as to why he was.

"wow.. beautiful," he removed his hand from her own and let both of his arms snake around her waist, hesitance lingering as he did so just in case his affection wasn't wanted. but when he felt her back melt against his chest, jesse pulled her into a hug and let his chin rest gently on the top of her head.

"the painting's cool too, i guess," he added playfully, the same grin remaining upon his features as they both gazed over the famous Starry Night painting by the equally famous vincent van gogh.

now playing...

A THOUSAND YEARS

christina perri (instrumental)

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Soap]

devyn brooks-mercer

tyche

somewhere at the museum

lil' mad

interactions

Nate BELIAL.

“Cheerleaders? Of all the people… not even any of the weirdo comp sci kids? They’re always staring, I swear.”

Devyn knew their circle well– or… she liked to think she did. Cleo aside– they were pretentious, attention-hungry and sometimes, unsurprisingly, cruel. Would she or anyone else be surprised at the revelation?

No.

“Staring, sure, but I can promise you it’s not because they’re envious.” She took another sip of her champagne. Glancing at the glass half-empty as they walked through the museum and past the eye-catching art.

The knight before her wasn’t entirely wrong. It was plausible that the prophet wasn’t envious– and came from a place of distaste instead. Someone from the outside looking in… maybe they had wanted to ensure their own justice was delivered, like they believed in the necessity of delivering daily doses of karma.

Some more than others… but some deserved less. As Devyn's gaze roamed the museum, her eyes, tinged with a hint of melancholy, scanned the crowd, searching for someone she used to spend time with. Though that relationship was a bet she had unfortunately lost as well.

“Either way… man, I don’t know. It’s probably best if we just ignore it.”

Ignorance wasn’t her strong-suit but Nate wasn’t wrong. There were plenty of other things she needed to focus on, but Van Gogh wasn’t one of them. “It’s probably not even real, either. Loaded stories and bullshit.” Devyn shook her head. “But their goal is achieved once people start talking– even if we ignore it, it doesn't mean everyone else will.” She said with a gesture of her glass as to concrete her words. Devyn was the daughter of gossip mongers, she was the embodiment of gossip, rumors and lies– but with just enough luck she happened to free herself from a fraction of it.

She might’ve not been one for writing– had a distaste for journalists and writers alike, those searching at the ready to unfold, unravel, and potentially disrupt someone's week– or life, depending on the headline.

She knew how they operated all too well, but not everyone needed the truth to be noticed.

Her eyes narrowed as she scanned Nathaniel’s features. His sarcasm not unnoticed but his change of subject blatantly obvious. The man in front of her was never one for gossip, rumors or the lies that spread around campus. It’s one of the reasons they were close. God knows they wouldn’t be if he chose to believe all that said involving her.

“Like, say, all this beautiful art.”

“You have a good eye,” Neither Devyn nor Nathaniel spoke and she stood up straighter from the familiar voice. Her hand lowered to face her father maskless. “Dad, what a surprise.” She smiled. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” The words slipped from her lips, evoking a smile from him as he raised the rim of his glass. Unlike her champagne, his glass held a dark liquid, unmistakably whiskey, his favorite– and it was the only thing the two shared in common.

“I was about to pose the same question to you, this was never…”

Devyn quickly posed her friend as a subtle distraction. “Dad, this is Nate.” She withheld the information that they weren’t together, but anyone other than Abe was sure to bring a smile on her father’s face. “He’s a linebacker for…” she trailed off. Listen, she went to the college, saw the posters, but it wasn’t like she attended every Friday night game or… cared enough.

Sorry, Nate.

Her father spoke up before she could save herself. “Crimson? You must be the real deal,” Robert laughed, extending a hand to Nathaniel for a firm handshake. Devyn let out a subtle sigh of relief.

“Where’s Mom?”

“Ah, she’s arguing with the coat-checker to take her purse. How’s everything? School?” They were talking as if they were distant relatives. This felt like a conversation Devyn could’ve had better with her vegetable of a grandmother.

“It’s… going fine.”

Her hesitation had Robert pause, his smile faltering only slightly. “Is that so? I actually bumped into Mr. Corvus at the course the other day, played a whole 18.”

Fuck.

"Yeah? That's..." she trailed off, her voice faltering. "He mentioned that you've accumulated four absences in his class just last month," Robert stated, his tone tinged with a mix of disappointment and concern.

Devyn was a business major.

Spoiler alert; Devyn didn’t give a fuck about business– and her… hobby these past few weeks had kept her from attending a few certain classes.
__
The cigarette sat between her fingers as a deck of cards was handed to her. “Your turn to deal.” Devyn took a long puff and left it to sit between her lips as cards were dealt out to every other man at the table.

A bet, a few raises and checks later. The pot was hers.

“I didn’t expect that…”

She did. She expected the last five hands she won.
__

“I’ve… been busy.” Her words spilt from her lips just as Victoria, the beautiful, elegant and bitch-like of a mother arrived alongside her father like the trophy wife she was.

“Who is this?” Her mother was immediately taken with Nate, the young, the handsome and the widely acceptable notion as her daughter’s date.

“With?” Robert questioned, completely ignoring Victoria and Devyn shifted uncomfortably, glancing quickly at Nate and away. He wasn’t supposed to be present for her father’s interrogation. There wasn’t supposed to be one in the first place.

“Plenty of things.”

Her father nodded, the weight of disappointment evident in his gaze, mingled with a hidden anger that simmered beneath the surface. "If film studies was going to consume all your time, I wouldn't have given my approval," he stated firmly.

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t need your permission then.”

An uncomfortable silence sat between the two and Robert’s gaze took in Nate, almost as if he forgot he was there during the entire conversation. “Apologies, my daughter just has a flawed mindset that’d get her nowhere, I don’t expect you to understand.”

Her jaw clenched and the grasp on the champagne glass grew tight enough that her knuckles had turned white.

“Devyn, it isn’t like you’re doing anything useful with the classes you’re taking anyway, in business at least you’re preparing yourself for the future, you’re doing someth–” His words were interrupted by Victoria placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It’d be a shame to watch you waste your life away on a silly little dream.”

“Actually,” Devyn spoke, her tone a mixture of hesitation and confliction as she racked her brain of what to say, desperate to have some sort of win over her parents’ constant judgment.

“I’m… making a documentary.”

“You are?” Her mother asked, curiosity evident as much as the anticipation on her face.

“Yes… it’s…” Devyn glanced at Nathaniel as if he’d help her fill in the blanks. Pulling something out of her ass wasn’t the plan– nor was attempting to piss her parents off. But fuck money. She didn’t want a dime from them if it came with their judgment. "It's… about the influence of our social circle, about how our financial backgrounds have shaped our lives in significant ways. And, of course, our parents play a crucial role in that.”

Some of the color drained from her father’s face. “I don’t need business classes to air out some truth. It’s an art itself, wouldn’t you agree, Nate?”

coded by natasha.

 

[mangomilk]

MOOD: flirty 'n feisty.

OUTFIT:
• 2008 castalané collection suit.

• mask

LOCATION:bar.

basics

MENTIONS:
anais, vera, evelyn, abe, (lux, jesse)

INT:
erzulie a z u l a Stardust Galaxy lvcid minajesty

tags

TL;DR being a menace to basically everyone.

tl;dr

paris castalané

and apollo strengthened the very arrow for paris to strike achilles' heel.

And despite his face – hidden by a mask of theatrical drama – was distinguishable only by the way his nose crooked underneath it and how the duo of moles on his cheek were planted on his skin like splatters of paint, Paris was poker-faced nonetheless. The mask could’ve very well been discarded, his expression would neither harden nor soften. Unabridged vacancy like shady motel rooms in Brooklyn where dirt mixed with trash and piss into a thick paste.
"Funny, shouldn't you be- I don't know, fucking off or something?"

Vera’s words did not faze him, now. Her hiss would turn to purr at some point.
"Ah, you noticed it. Anais taking me out on a walk for once does do me quite well. I'd offer for you to hold the leash for a bit but your grip is not very..." he paused stylistically, "capable."
"I am looking forward to hearing your next set of arguments in the club. I am always happy to revise where others need some helping."
Paris stood too tall, his arm too rich, dressed with a fine lady adjoining his side. The sun that Apollo pulled after him in his chariot to earth each day was hot and vile. Looking his way for too long, turned one blind. Getting too close and comfortable, melted wings made of wax; Icarus.
But how could Anais burn when she was the fire that he walked with. If anything, perhaps she was the blue of the flame to leave marks even on his armored skin.

Her acrylics brushed over his chin, pressure locked his lips shut as she held on and her gaze was returned with nothing but silky eyes. Paris leaned into the touch as if controlled by muscle memory engraved in his very being. Despite things left unsaid and passion blooming in his barren April garden, Anais still held him like an untreated bijou. They stood on different sides of the board these days, aware of their future only apart but perhaps – just like her – Paris liked to revisit their games and grow excited over past moves; a dance of chess pieces.

Anais’ harsh words let eyebrows curl where corners of lips only smiled. Putting on an act of apologies, Paris wiped the thick tear embedded in the artwork of his mask.

You’re as shameless as ever.

An inaudible gasp escaped his lips as he brought his fingertips to his mouth. "Shamelessness is what made me talk to you in the first place. I believe it’s one of the things you always found irresistible about me." His hands reciprocated the touch as he reached to tuck a strand of hair behind her ears. His thumb then proceeded to press on her cheek and caressed her for a moment only. "Unless you’d rather I’d entertain someone else," and while Anais' words carried not much heat behind them, Paris’ did as if he was the one to warn. He smiled before he took her hand and planted a gentle kiss on the back of her hand while holding eye contact as if to excuse his tone.

A slave for provocation through and through, he let his eyes roam the museum through chatter and dance and gaze of paintings. Blond strands that cut to dark brown flowed down shoulders in tendrils. His ‘sister’ he hasn’t gotten used to just yet. Perhaps there was still a way to return that package? He already had a sister anyway. Paris watched her lean into a figure that belonged to a member of the debate team. His agitating grating voice during countless summer evenings in his home drilled his skull and surely had become a trigger to his seasonal migraines. The way Lux seemed to overflow in trust in this person made him want to regurgitate. Someone had to pull her back an inch, secrets spill like clumsy maids lately…

His attention was redirected when: "Unfortunately for my dear Paris, I have to agree with Vera." Abe Suwan. A man with a face sculpted by gods but it was a pity they stopped there. Intelligence was a good he was sparsely equipped with and Paris urged to lick his lips tasting an opportunity to bite back. "Abe," he smiled and planted two sharp kisses on either cheek. "What hubris to tell a woman where her taste lies~ tsk. tsk. tsk." He furrowed his brows. and shook his head in disapproving manner. "Perhaps you should tighten those screws that have been loose for a while now-" Paris gestured to to his head "Up here."

"However I suppose, knowing Anais, she would not touch you even with safety gloves on." His smile grew and the fact his date still clung on his side and sipped her wine made him feel victorious. The content of his glass sparkled in romantic light and as Paris glanced over the crowd to see his boss from the internship who happened to be Devyn’s father, he did not want to become a target himself. "So much art to gaze upon and yet I still have to watch Abe’s caveman face. Why don’t we all take a look,” he suggested but he could care less whether or not the others would follow him.

code by valen t.

 

[erzulie]

Anais

LOCATION: museum
INTERACTIONS: paris, abe
MENTIONS: n/a
TAGS: a z u l a , mangomilk

It was common knowledge that Anais was not a woman to be trifled with. Sure, it could be attributed to the advantages that she had in life. Money and nepotism could only take one so far when surrounded by people of the same background. There was an edge to her, a glint in her eye that sent shivers down the spine. Whispers of violence and scheming followed in her wake. After all, a less fortunate person could never dream of striking their enemies where it hurt. With her formidable background, a fight was nothing. Charges could be pressed of course, but fear had a way of getting them dropped. Darkened alleys and empty rooms had no eyes to see and mouths to tell. She was a sly, calculating creature.

Though her mask lacked visible eyes, she could spot Abe Suwan through the carefully placed holes. How dare he breathe in her direction? Oh to pluck out those eyes with her talons. Would her brother prefer them as a matching set of bejeweled earrings or as a simple necklace? She knew that answer of course and it did nothing to suffocate the fire in her eyes. No matter how much time passed she would never forgive him for the hurt he had caused. Blood must have blood in her opinion, an eye for an eye was only right.

The wine glass in her hand threatened to break in her grip. His words made her smile, yet there wasn’t a hint of kindness or warmth. “The finer side you say?” Her eyes traced him slowly, deliberate in the way they traveled from head to toe. “Even when I grow tired of him…I would never demean myself in such a way that would have me come to you. The thought of a taste of you…it feels like poison on my tongue. One bite would forever ruin my palate, putting me off from eating ever again.” With that Anais place her empty glass on a passing tray and joined Paris in his admiring of the art.

code by low fidelity.

 

[lvcid]

MOOD: more anxious than flirty now :/

OUTFIT: xx

LOCATION: outside the bathrooms

basics

MENTIONS:
n/a

INT:
jesse minajesty ; abe a z u l a

tags

TL;DR that creepy dude just messed up a cute moment.. also the drug supply is running low. better find abe!!

tl;dr

luciana ruiz

there’s secrets and riddles that live in these walls; there’s ghosts of past heroes.

Lux’s hand squeezed, gripping Jesse’s palm tighter as she led him through the crowd. Over the course of their time there, people had trickled into the establishment at a steady pace, and it wasn’t long before the room had been filled with bodies. It made the pair’s pathway more Labyrinthian than perhaps either of them would’ve liked, Lux occasionally glancing over her shoulder with a small smile to ensure that Jesse was still in tow, or bumping into his side to avoid colliding into someone else, but they eventually arrived at the edge of the room. Before them hung an array of obscenely expensive paintings, breaking up the otherwise dull, white surface of the wall with vibrant splashes of blues and yellows.

As Lux lifted her second glass of champagne for a sip, gaze roving over the elaborate brush strokes of the Starry Night, Jesse’s grasp on her loosened, slipping free entirely but there was no time to mourn its absence before its quick, albeit tentative, return. Lux sank easily into the man’s warm embrace, relishing in the way his arms tightened at her unspoken approval. Of all people to be worried about making her uncomfortable, Jesse shouldn’t have even been on the list, but Lux liked that he gave her that option anyway, to be uneasy and to do something about it.

Not everyone was so kind.

That was the very reason Lux had made a habit of those secret exchanges with Abe Suwan, and the painting in front of her now, with its vibrant, swirling landscape, reminded her of something she’d see while reaping the benefits of the boy’s product. Disorienting as it was, it was better than focusing on the past she’d created for herself.

It was her fault, after all.

Lux giggled at Jesse’s implication, leaning further into his touch as her free hand came to rest over one of his. “Oh, well, now I definitely think you like me,” she teased, absentmindedly fiddling with the intricate chunks of metal adorning Jesse’s fingers.

Another sip of champagne to punctuate her words.

Lux remained a moment longer, studying the painting like she expecting to find meaning between the craggy, black figure domineering the left and the Cadmium Yellow moon; her fidgeting had shifted to Jesse’s skin, French-manicured nails tracing the shapes inked onto the spaces between his knuckles. Lux’s eyes brightened, a thought formed, and she tilted her head back with a grin, candied banter on the tip of her tongue as her gaze searched for his, but before it could be found, something derailed her attention.

Along the wall, away from the dazzling light of the main room and far enough that Lux couldn’t make out much more than a dark silhouette, someone stood facing her. There were plenty of other masked and cloaked individuals in attendance, and the inclusion of another shouldn’t have bothered Lux as much as it did—not everyone was out to get her, despite what her anxious mind led her to believe at times—but something about the way they stared, unmoving, as if rooted to the spot, sent a shuddering chill down Lux’s spine despite the heat that Jesse’s proximity provided.

“I’m going to the restroom,” Lux announced, line of vision at last settling on Jesse as she forced the corners of her lips upward. “Hold this for me?” She stepped away, disentangling herself from Jesse’s hold before gingerly extending her half-empty glass, thanking the man when he took it and promising a swift return, sealed with a kiss to his cheek. Lux would’ve spared a laugh at the pink, sparkly mark her lips left behind if it wasn’t for how preoccupied her mind was with worst-case scenarios.

Lux afforded Jesse one last timid smile before slipping into the throng of people once more.

The line of girls standing at the long, marble counter paused their preening in the mirror to acknowledge their new company. While Lux was popular enough, she didn’t often associate with those outside of her tightly-knit circle of friends, but that didn’t stop her from being amicable to anyone fortunate enough to cross paths with her. She exchanged a few pleasantries with the other young women—“That color looks so good on you!” and “Where did you get your shoes?” were tumbling out of her mouth before she could match names to their faces—as she took her post at the edge of the mirror farthest from the door. Lux applied a half-hearted layer of fresh gloss to her lips, waiting until she was alone in the bathroom to rifle through the contents of her small purse.

Lux had known she was running low on what Abe had given her during their last encounter, but she hadn’t realized she was out entirely; unfortunately, the empty baggie she produced was evidence of that, nothing inside but a couple of white specks clinging to the plastic—useless.

With a sigh, Lux crumpled the bag and shoved it back into the dark safety of her purse, then pushed her way out of the restroom. Going to physically seek Abe out was more effort than she was willing to contribute; instead, Lux leaned against the wall just outside the lavatory, thumb gliding across her phone’s screen in search of the drug dealer’s contact. She typed out a quick message and pressed send, not giving herself the window of opportunity to think better of it.

Can we meet up?? I’m by the bathrooms.. need more ):

Lux wasn’t usually so hasty to get to the point—she liked to beat around the bush in favor of friendly small talk if it meant easing her conscience about spending time with someone solely for what she could gain from them—but she was in a hurry. The faster she could get the drugs from Abe, the faster she could return to Jesse and continue the charade that everything was normal.

That she had nothing to hide.

code by valen t.

 

[Stardust Galaxy]

evelyn sharp

hestia

In a world full of facades, having someone to rely on was more fulfilling than anything that you could buy with money. Sure, it was a bit of a stretch to say this when everyone around Evelyn and even herself grew with everything they wanted when they wanted it. But when every outsider sees your worth and importance based on the zeroes of your bank account; the world that radiates luxury becomes rather dull when you realize you are just a number and not a person. But when someone that can see through that first layer and actually gets to know their persona, it’s easier to admit that they become your person. And for Evelyn, well, it was effortless to admit that the title belonged to Vera.

Evelyn let out a small chuckle at the actions Vera wanted to take against Paris. She couldn’t blame her. Sometimes violence was necessary and Evelyn was pretty sure was the method Vera would use if it didn’t get her in trouble; but don’t get her wrong, this didn’t mean she was in favor of these acts. However, there was an elite group in which Evelyn could let it slide, and Paris Castalané was part of it. If the methods made him realize he was just a nobody with huge insecurities that he hid with his so-called ego, then she would even partake in it. But this was a secret between you and her. After all, she still needs to act as the neutral persona that she was known for.

But while Evelyn hid her true intentions once Paris and Anais showed up, Vera was another story. There was no need for her to intervene in this discussion one because she knew Vera could handle it all by herself and secondly because the less she was involved with Paris the better for her, she didn’t want to waste her energy in someone who wasn’t even worth it and had nothing to offer to her life, although she couldn’t say the same about his family as her internship at Castalané was still something important in Evelyn’s life.

“Thank you for the offer Paris, but if my experience in France proved to me, something is that French men are not really the best dancers and I doubt you are the exception.”

Evelyn said, not with the edge that Vera’s words had, but it was good enough for her. After Abe arrived and his embarrassing interaction with Anais, the cherry on the cake was when Paris they should take a look around the museum. While Evelyn wasn’t against the idea, the mere thought of spending more time together felt like a punishment, and it was her cue to exit.

“I appreciate the offer, Paris, but I still need to say my greetings to other people. Perhaps another time. And I guess I’ll see all of you later, but have fun on your brief tour.”

Evelyn said, before leaving the group behind and making her way through the museum. Eventually, she would find someone of her interest to mingle in the meantime.

mood: annoyed

outfit: XX

location: museum

tags: a z u l a erzulie mangomilk

coded by Stardust Galaxy

 

[idiot]

scroll

ALIYA H.

museum’s bathroom

reggie

n/a

It wasn’t always like this—

There was once a time where she woke to sunflowers from May’s Daisies flower boutique around the corner. Or the sticky notes that Reggie slipped into her latest book—flipping the next page to find a loving message scrawled on it. Aliya couldn’t forget about how he would try make her pancakes; even though Reggie had never lifted a finger, or rather a spatula, growing up. The pancakes would always have clumps of flour in them, but the bitter taste would melt away when she saw his big, goofy smile. He was so proud of himself—even if one ended up on the floor from his dramatic show of flipping them in the pan.

Now that smile she missed had been warped and replaced with one that she had grown to resent. It felt wider and more sinister, even though Aliya was perfectly aware that it was more just her perception.

It all changed after the summer before Harvard. Aliya suspected that is when the cheating first occurred (the first of many if Aliya’s book and investigation skills were up to par). Aliya remembered the day vividly—the day that she saw Reggie for who he truly was.

“I know, Carrie…” Mother. A young Aliya was instructed to call her mother by her first name as it made her feel old, “but Alice gave me a key for a reason. I will most likely sleep at Reggie’s tonight then so please don’t bother making me dinner.” Aliya struggled to unlock the heavy front door with one hand. Usually Lyle — their butler — would welcome her. Afternoon, Ms Hunt, shall I get you something to drink? Yet, Alice had given all the staff time off while they were on holiday.

Aliya had decided to set up a little romanic dinner while Reggie was at football practice. A tote bag over her shoulder was filled with Chinese takeaway, chocolate cannolis that Reggie loved and a few candles for ambience. She would even endure one of those dumb action movies that Reggie watched. You could only watch so many movies where some macho dude rolled onto a car four-stories below and didn’t have a scratch.

Reggie wasn’t at football practice though, his hushed voice filling the long hall as she climbed the grand staircase. Maybe it finished early, Aliya thought. Upon getting closer, another voice was filling the halls. As though she wanted confirmation of what she suspected, Aliya needed to see with her own eyes. Maybe it was just one of his friends.

The door ajar, Aliya could see the clothes strewn on the floor and the two interlocked. Definitely not just a friend.

Aliya spent the night in a local park, angrily munching on the Ma Pa tofu while tears stung her cheeks.

It wasn’t until they moved into that fancy apartment of his for Harvard that she confronted him.

“You could have just—I don’t know—broke up with me, maybe?” Aliya exclaimed, pacing around the living area, “Or is that too illogical?”

“Ali…” Reggie pleaded, oddly calm considering your girlfriend of three years was accusing you of cheating. Part of her wished he at least tried to deny it.

Do you even love me anymore, Aliya wanted to ask. Did you ever love me? No, that one she didn’t want to know.

“Do you even love me anymore, Reggie, because I just can’t fathom why.” Aliya forced her hands to stop shaking, tucking them into her Harvard hoodie’s pockets.

“It is complicated—okay? It isn’t as simple as love.” Reggie pursed his lips, as though he had already thought about this. She wasn’t sure if that brought her some comfort or made it worse.

“Then care to explain, Reggie, because I’m guessing it isn’t some Freudian philosophy shit you are going throw on me.”

“Okay, well—where do I start,” Reggie sat up on the sofa, hands clasped together in deep thought. “As I told you, I had a bit of a reputation before we started dating.” Ah yes, Reginald Chamberlain was known to be the affection of most of the girls at high school and as he put it — he sometimes ‘indulged’ them.

“My parents sat me down after I got caught with Iris Thorpe in the music room and basically told me I had to stop my acting out or else they would cut me off. That would mean no university, no football and I’d have to get a job to support myself.” How cruel of the world to bestow a job on poor Reggie.

“So if I’m deducing this correctly, you chose me because…because I was,” The lone girl in the library, a book and her lunch on the table, “…a cover.”

“Jesus—of course not! My parents adore you, Ali. I mean my mother practically considers you her daughter” Reggie continued rambling. “You represented exactly what my parents wanted from me. You are a respectable and, uh—intelligent girl!”

Girl.

“I saw you in class, you were so smart. Let’s be real, you could have been teaching those classes yourself.”

“An act, then.” All of it—Aliya wanted to let that settle in so it didn’t hurt as much but it kept getting trapped in her throat like a bubble.

“I can’t help it—okay? I tried for so long, I promise it didn’t start until that summer.” Gold star for Reggie for not cheating on his girlfriend until the end of their high school career.

“That still doesn’t answer my question.” Aliya could hear her voice faltering but stood tall. Don’t let him see it, Aliya.

“If we break up, my parents will start hounding me to find another girl. With you, I can do what I do without repercussions and suspicion. Especially now that you know, there is no need to do it in such secrecy.” That was the planned part, the words flowing from his mouth with practised precision. The bubble in her throat grew, the metallic taste on her tongue.

“And let’s be frank here, Ali, you need me.” He spoke like a lawyer now, as though he was sliding over the papers for her to sign. His father would of been proud of him. “Without me and my money you wouldn’t even be here at Harvard. You and your mother wouldn’t even scrape up enough money to pay for a semester here.” That was the first time Aliya had ever heard Reggie comment, or rather insult, her socioeconomic status.

The first time of many.

The tightening on her waist brought her back from the depths of her mind.

“—dude, surely we ditch this place for the after party. A bit boring if you ask me,” Reggie smirked, fingers digging into her hip. He was aware she ‘dozed off’ when out at these social events. As Aliya had tried to explain to him, she was dissociating. She didn’t like being here to begin with and keeping up this insufferable act. The anger from the memories was washing over her in that moment.

“I need to use the bathroom, be right back.” Aliya’s voice barely above the music, Reggie having no choice but to relinquish his grip. Not that his eyes were on her, meeting the blonde woman’s eyes.

Aliya weaved through the crowds, spying some of Reggie’s friends scattered in groups. She could see Anais, who was talking to Abe of all people, with her company being wasted by the likes of Paris as well.

Entering the museum’s bathroom—even inside the bathroom they had placed decorations. Can’t a bathroom simply be a bathroom to them.

Aliya locked herself in one of the stalls, feeling somewhat reminiscent to her time in high school when she transferred to Reggie’s school. Back then she would eat her lunch in the bathroom stall.

Now, she would pull out a little black book, flipping to a new page and scribbled down the name of the girl Reggie was eyeing at the drink’s table: Gina Charles. Cheerleader.

Just writing those words gave her the instant relief that her mother seemed to get from the puff of a cigarette. It ain’t that bad, honey, it is needed for smart girls like ourselves to cool off from time to time, offering a cigarette to her sixteen-year-old daughter.

The pen pushed against paper, wondering how she was going to stop Gina Charles from getting with Reggie tonight.

Aliya tried to block the other thought—the thought that wondered if the fifteen-year-old that once sat in the bathroom stall, sandwich in hand, would be proud of the woman she had become.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[minajesty]

click!

JESSE S.

THE DELPHIPROPHET'S HADES

MOOD

content & in high spirits.

LOCATION

museum

OUTFIT

ATTIRE & MASK

TAGS

LUX ( lvcid ) & EVELYN ( Stardust Galaxy )

MASQUERADE.

short-lived but just as sweet nonetheless, the glossy kiss lux planted against his cheek acted as a button to signal a cheeky grin to crack his porcelain features. and although hidden by the intricacies of his mask, crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes, further displaying the effects of her affection.

a 'be safe' habitually escaped from his tongue, one with a sweet-as-honey tone and laced with a sense of serious protection over her. jesse's darkened gaze fixated on her figure as it grew smaller and smaller from his vision and eventually, the tension in his jaw and shoulders released when she was out of sight.

an inkling of loneliness began to burrow in his stomach when the only remnants left of lux was the drink securely glued to his hand. he couldn't help but find it odd how much he hated being left in a crowded room knowing his usual company was in the same building. the feeling favored that of a lost pup and it was foreign.

part of him wasn't sure if he liked feeling so empty: could he truly handle the vulnerability that came with leaving the heart in the hands of someone who felt miles away now?

a small huff that carried a hint of annoyance left from his nose as he stole a swallow of effervescent champagne. suddenly, the contents weren't enough to provide the warmth he was missing. he could feel his throat beginning to dry like the sahara; the only cure being anything else behind the liquor bar.

abandoning his own glass on a passing tray, the man clad in black began to make his way through the tightly knitted crowd. it seemed as if every twist and turn he tried making on his way to the bar accompanied an 'excuse me' or 'sorry'.

"fuck, i'm sorry," jesse announced, reaching out to steady the person he had bumped into. the heat from embarrassment began to dance across his neck as he withdrew the arm that securely wrapped around their torso once they steadied themselves.

"when you ignore maximum capacity, shit tends to happen. i'm not gonna make any excuses though, that was my fault," the words fell from his mouth before he finally found himself picking up his head to address his newfound company directly, "are you ok-...evelyn?" if the night hadn't gotten anymore hectic, fate had taken a sharp turn and headed straight for history. and suddenly, the delphiprophet wasn't the topic residing in his mind.

now playing...

A THOUSAND YEARS

christina perri (instrumental)

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Stardust Galaxy]

evelyn sharp

hestia

The room felt too crowded for Evelyn’s liking. The bumping into people was not of the things the designer enjoyed. Maybe departing from the group wasn’t as a great idea as she thought at first, but with posts of the delphiprophet, it made her feel a bit uneasy even if Evelyn was sure she had nothing to do with the aliases that were posted. But the idea of being surrounded by people she didn’t fully trust was not helping in keeping her facade that nothing bothered her. It was becoming difficult to keep her neutral stance as much as she would want to.

The next events happened so fast that Evelyn could barely understand what happened. The deep but embarrassed voice apologizing for bumping into her and the secure but delicate grip to steady her were enough to send a commotion to the girl. And then she saw him, even behind that mask. She would recognize his eyes. Ones which were green with a rim of gold that resembled a deep forest that was sun-kissed by flashes of the sun. Eyes that she had to face every day in the form of a four-year-old.

When he said her name, it triggered a cascade of emotions. The doubt in his voice was just a reminder that they were just not close even before they could be described as strangers, despite the fact that he was the only person that had seen her on her most vulnerable side. And one thing for sure was that Evelyn hated her emotions running free, maybe because it reminded her that the only time she felt truly free; she ended up pregnant with the child of the guy that was in front of her. And Jesse was a reminder that if you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.

“Yes, I am okay. Jesse, right?”

Evelyn started saying, keeping to herself the urge to once called him Jeffrey to make it seem he was just a nobody to her but it would only be a lie to her.

“Thank you for helping me. I wasn’t expecting to see you here. It doesn’t seem to be the kind of thing you would be interested in participating in, but I guess it was your girlfriend who dragged you here. I suppose you are looking for her, so I won’t bother you anymore.”

mood: awkward

outfit: XX

location: museum

tags: minajesty

coded by Stardust Galaxy