Multiple Settings Forteans | Main thread

Danidify · Jan 4, 2021

FORTEANS MAIN THREAD

Welcome to the FORTEANS main RP thread, where any and all core stories will be told! Currently, we are not accepting new characters until the first chapter passes.

Current RP status: active without posting sequence.
Posting sequence: every character from your team must have posted once before a 2nd post can be made (strongly suggesting collaborative posts).

Active Operatives
I: SR. RECRUIT LILLIANA LEXINGTON (Field-work) | Divine Object |

diwa
II: SR. RECRUIT VICTOR LOCKWOOD (Generalism) | Shackled | A A Bottle of Memories
III: SR. RECRUIT JULIUS WATSON (Reconnaissance) | Seance Medium |

Danidify

IV: RECRUIT HUGO BELMONT (Field-Work) | Daeform |

Umbral_Arcanist_XI
V: RECRUIT EDMUND BELMORE (Assistance) | Precognition Psychic |

Pipsqueak
VI: RECRUIT ERICK COLLINS (Field-Work) | Burdened |

vellichxr
VII: RECRUIT LISELOTTE OLANDER (Assistance) | Intuition Psychic |

Skawly

VIII: JR. RECRUIT BASIL EVERLEIGH (Assistance) | Guardian Angel |

lion.
IX: JR. RECRUIT PARIS NATHANIEL SELLEN (Field-Work) | Morphling |

Plutoni

X: XX. XXXXXXX ?? ?? (??) | ?? |

Kimby

Inactive Operatives
I: I: SR. RECRUIT CLARA GEIGER (Reconnaissance) | Soulster Medium |

ClownPope
II: JR. RECRUIT NAOMI KUROKI (Generalism) | Grey Witch |

solarsaphia

Danidify · Jan 4, 2021

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

CHAPTER I: TREASURE.
"Gleaming, twinkling
Eyes like sinking ships on waters
So inviting, I almost jump in"

status: ongoing.
briefing link: here.

Danidify · Jan 5, 2021

CHAPTER I, PAGE 1 | ON THE TRAIL OF GOLD

Flashback. April 5th, 1984.
The court was never a place anyone looked forward to attending. Perhaps the first time, when no one knew what to expect, some had a glimmer of excitement within as they were ready to enter a new life. Now, however, that said life had been achieved, most knew better than to get their hopes up whenever Miss Wells requested a ‘brief catch-up’.

This was no ‘brief catch-up’ though, it was a meeting of ‘utter importance’, which only furthered the internal dread or hope depending on which viewpoint you possessed. Luckily, anyone ready for bad news would soon be soothed by the callous, collected voice of Dianium’s one and only lead-singer.

“Tomorrow marks an important day for all of you.”

A pair of hollow taps paced through the slightly echo-y chamber as Miss Wells, clad in a modest navy blue dress and simple yet elegant colour-matching headpiece, rose to face the crowd before her. Her face radiated a serious, determined demeanour, but with it came a series of slight smiles just enough to make one feel welcomed.

“Every person here has shown thorough dedication in training. Given you’ve met a lot of expectations along the way, it’s true that you’ve already proven to have potential, but before we claim you as a true member of this unit, that potential must be turned into potency.”

Her amber eyes scanned the people standing in Court, each quiet soul seemingly waiting for the Jury’s verdict to finally conclude.

“You will get the chance to prove yourself- not just as an individual, but as a team. You will be working together with fellow Forteans and fellow Forteans alone. So, should you make a.. ‘slip up’, it is up to you to clean up the mess. Of course, this warning won’t be needed, as I’m certain no one will be making mistakes, no?.”

Another sweep of the witnesses was performed, this time with a stern look and a corporate smirk. It’s funny how even when speaking so calmly, Miss Wells managed to make people feel like they were getting yelled at.

“Very well. Let’s move on to your mission.” The Queen of the kingdom announced, peeking to the side to catch a glance of her assistant, Nikolas. With a single moment of eye contact, the sophisticated energies collided with the chaotic, nervous ones of the recipient, sending them into a jittery motion of finding the proper page in their notes.

“All yours.” Miss Wells added, followed by a confirming nod of Nikolas as he took a few steps forward. Clearing his throat, he started, speaking like a timid child in front of a class as they desperately try to look into the class to break up stagnant moments of reading from their cheat sheet.

“For your assignment, we will be transporting you to an old castle by the name of ‘Chateau Harrogate’ located in the outskirts of Leicestershire. Here you will be working during a Masquerade meant for the upper class. Uh, Mr. Adams has asked me to specify that ‘partying’ does not fit your job description, so “don’t even think about trailing off”, but- well, moving on."

Another nervous throat-clear and swallowing motion ensued before Nikolas picked up a stack of files on the office, slowly making his way around the room to make sure everyone had their respective papers. He started speaking while doing so, channelling several voice cracks and short silences during his attempt at multitasking.

“We have reason to believe that the Chateau houses a supernatural threat responsible for harming several important partygoers, with several attendants experiencing varying levels of anhedonia and catatonia following their visit to Harrogate. Given the Chateau’s.. incriminating history, we suspect the evildoer may be spectral of nature, but no one has managed to prove this thus far. Even so, a wraith remains our primary suspect, so we suggest making ample preparations for such a threat.”

“In order to efficiently utilize your time within the castle, the group will be split into three units that are each expected to tackle the threat from a different perspective, hopefully cornering whatever it is that is causing these ailments. Cooperation within and between groups will be vital for this operation, so make sure to readily communicate with one another through whatever means necessary. You can find your respective teams in the mission file alongside further details in regards to your task as well as your available tools. Any further questions will be answered by the file, and, if not, well- Mr. Adams claims it’s a “you problem”, and to “read properly as nothing is left out”. Thank you.”

Today, April 6th, 1984.
This world is no stranger to its fair share of abandoned houses, factories, schools and castles whose eerie exterior evoke whispers of demons and ghosts. Especially when one of such locations housed an unfortunate casualty many years ago, rumours will spread like wildfire and, before you know it, people are eating up tales of the worst imaginable.

Chateau Harrogate is one of these places: a beautiful fossil plastered with whispers of a ghastly presence raging to ruin all that is alive. If one were to tell the story of Harrogate to a child, they’d be sure to face sleepless nights. The upper class of England, however, sees an opportunity to party.

What was one a castle of cultural value is now a wondrous sensation. Opulence, luxury, and a subliminal story bring in over-dressed adults at unimaginable paces, each wearing decorated masks to hide part of their excitement. Today, it is no longer the misfortune for which Harrogate is known, it’s the masquerade parties that evoke a feeling many seem to yearn for.

Somehow, it has attracted you too, albeit not out of greed or gluttony. Rather than thinking of status, business and good old-fashioned fun, your mind ought to only be thinking of the first two. This will be your chance at a new life, after all, and you wouldn’t want to mess that up now, would you?

5:50, 5 minutes before arrival at Chateau Harrogate.
Synchronous taps of hooves hitting rocks and ground pace the rhythm of your ride, with the gentle sound of an evening wind passing by continuously. The wood of the stagecoach manages to crack ever so slightly while bumps and abrupt ends in the road frustrate the rider sitting out of view attached to the carriage in which you are situated. Your view is limited but still present, with windows on either side granting glimpses of vibrant grassland and, in the distance, hints of bleak wheat. The sun is coming down as we speak, its promising glow fought back once again by the coming dusk of night. Even outside, darkness seems to be on the rise.

In the front carriage, Paris Sellen, Clara Geiger, Basil Everleigh and Lilliana Lexington - all adorned in posh clothing - are waiting for their arrival. Their trip by carriage has already lasted 25 minutes, which some may consider a long time in a confined space with not too much room to move. Especially for such now luxurious, prestigious folk, the promise of fresh air and a warm welcome would surely be a welcoming one. They are prosperous guests now, after all.

In the carriage behind them sit Hugo Belmont, Naomi Kuroki, and Erick Collins, each not as fortunate to be dressed up in expensive wear and even more expensive accessories. Instead, they are clad in less eye-catching pieces, dark colours ensuring they are suited for the job to come. While their allies are evoking superiority within, they are to sink to an image of theft, stealth, and.. extreme endurance while their carriage strays from the path to give them a ride even bumpier than before. Something within me, however, tells me this will be this minor whiplash will be the least of their worries once they finally get inside.

Finally, we visit those that have already made the trip: Edmund Belmore, Liselotte Olander, Julius Watson, and Victor Lockwood; new staff members of Harrogate. Hiding behind perfect facades of housekeepers, butlers, waiters and kitchen-aids, these four have already taken the first step, ready for an ocean of chatter to wash in until the clock finally ticks 7. While preparing the last few tables, accessories, details and drinks, these four have a moment of chatter during their calm before the storm. Just make sure to at least pretend to do a good job.

solarsaphia · Jan 11, 2021

— naomi kuroki.

The sun bled gold as it set, reminding Naomi of an upside-down lake settled just beyond the horizon’s edge. She was staring out at the path, one cheek squished against the stained wood of the carriage walls, decidedly unimpressed by the castle looming up ahead. Perhaps she was more bitter than she admitted, but she’d never liked the upper class’s homes. They stank like moths trapped in spiderwebs, their dull gold banisters making a statement for the sake of privilege, and she once again thanked the stars she hadn’t been a Guest. She would’ve felt sick laced up in some puffy-sleeved dress.

Infiltrating wasn’t much of a win, though, as the unsteady gait of the carriage reminded her. They had to veer off the road to avoid drawing attention, which meant bearing the natural bumps and bruises along the way. Naomi held tight to the left door’s handle, listening to their driver’s under-the-breath ranting about eccentric contractors.

As if on cue, their ride jolted, slamming Naomi into the side with a painful-sounding thump. She hissed out a curse in Japanese and righted herself.

“Got the short end of the stick, didn’t we?” Turning to face her fellow operatives, she raised an eyebrow. They didn’t seem too bothered, considering she’d been the one to break the silence, but it felt like extending an olive branch. Training had been a mess for her social life. “Espionage’s not as glamorous as they make it in the books.”

With a sigh, she pulled out the duffel bag lying prone at her feet. The dreary mismatch of blacks she wore had a scarce amount of storage, making a lighter weapon necessary, and she wouldn’t be carrying much beyond her mission items and the briefing. Perks of the job, she thought to herself wryly.

Naomi smoothed out the creases the paper had gotten from the less-than-smooth ride. “So, what do you two think?” A gesture to the castle clarified her statement. “The famed Chateau, full of old ghosts.”

“It’s not my preference for a summer getaway,” She said with a scoff. “Can’t say I understand the specter’s logic, but we’ll probably figure it out in due time.”

Though she’d cast divination the prior night, her not-so-godly friend on the esoteric plane had proven none more help than Miss Wells and her crew of quavering mouse-men. The only confirmation she’d gotten was that they should investigate the house. Naomi had to admit, if only to herself, that she was nervous about what the whole thing might entail — a bloody curse; a poison of the soul? The Seer’s statement in the Appendix had given her chills. She didn’t have enough knowledge to understand what they’d seen, of course, but she couldn’t shake the image of dying flowers and grinning gold bones.

Not enjoying the odd way that image tugged at her spine, Naomi yawned and propped her head upon her arms. The three of them would do well to take inventory, if only for the sake of double-checking, and some useful chatter would fill their time until the carriage finished its awful journey.

“So.” She spread the briefing out on her bag until each page lay separate. “Let’s see what the bare-bones plan is that we’ve got. I have my dagger, the materials to destabilize a Wraith—” The items in question, of course, she had stored in her bag. “—Havoc and Rampart, what’s your inventory? And we should set our goals, even if it all goes belly-up.”

It wasn’t out of character for her to check up on the team, what with her brain’s ability to think of every terrible scenario, nevertheless, Naomi felt odd being so verbal. After Kyo, she’d come to the conviction that a lone-wolf path was the only one she could take. Trusting others, having to rely on their skill and loyalty? It left a foul taste in her mouth, and the organization she worked for didn’t exactly inspire any ardent boot-licking on her part.

A Bottle of Memories · Jan 13, 2021

Viktor Lockwood

Character Sheet
Pinterest Board
Playlist

Coded by Solarsphia

Chapter 1.1

A Haunting Most Foul

“Tomorrow marks an important day for all of you.”

The words echoed relentlessly in Viktor's mind as he went about the Main Hall, his body all too occupied setting up tables, glassware, and accessories to betray his nervosity. Still, he felt exposed, constricted, out of his element. It allowed an intrusive presence all-too distinct from his own to sway him in ways he'd rather not admit. It showed in the way his gaze would find itself drawn back to the bar; in the way his thoughts wandered and obsessed over the mystery at hand; and by the fact he let it all happen willingly.

There was a pause as he set down another vase, his vision overtaken by petals of silver withering into dust, as the briefing came in flashes. A decline in happiness; paranoid staff; and a family poisoned, all followed by a change in ownership, and seven cases involving sudden illness in otherwise healthy adults. A mare, of course. It was simple really. The family was poisoned by the paranoia stricken staff, and their spirits stayed to haunt unwelcome guests. There. Done. It explained most of the details given in the briefing. And yet the other stirred within his mind, unsatisfied by the picture he'd painted, tugging at his curiosity in ways that made it hard to distinguish his own curiosity from its foul hunger. Perhaps he was giving in. Perhaps, he was simply looking into it too much. Still, it irked him too, the way it left some details unexplained.

Then came the realization his gaze had wandered again- set on the box, the bar, and his fellow operative lazing behind it. Safe to say, the realization snapped him out of his thoughts rather quickly, as he focused back on the task at hand. Still, the dreadful wrongness of the image his mind presented lingered silently. He'd need to figure it out sooner than later. After all, right at that very moment, the other teams were readying themselves for their respective parts in the play. They would soon be relying on his team's ability to judge and communicate the situation. Staying objective was key to playing his part right. The demon had no place in that arrangement- he didn't need it to figure out whether there was more hidden behind the canvas his mind had painted. All he needed was information, then the truth would reveal itself on its own.

And so it was time for him to get to work as well. After a final adjustment of the flowers, he set his gaze on the bar again, this time with purpose. If they needed information, then information he would get. So, while making sure to keep his mood from showing, he briskly crossed the remaining distance to Julius, masking any perceived ulterior motive behind a simple offer of aid. "Need any help around here then?"

Status

Uninjured, stable albeit nervous.

Location

1st floor, main hall, nearing the bar

Mentions

Eddie [@Pipsqueak ]
Julius [@Dandify]
Lotti [@Skawly]

Interactions

Interaction Post 1/5

coded by natasha.

Danidify · Jan 13, 2021

A black suit vest, black tie, white-winged collar, black trousers, and a pair of dapper shoes to pair. Though not exactly extravagant enough to suit Julius’s tastes, he had no qualms to make about anything other than the bothersome piece of white fabric dangling around his waist like a makeshift apron. It definitely wasn’t the ‘accessory’ he was thinking of when their mission was finally announced to be a free Masquerade party, but in dire conditions like these, sacrifices had to be made.

At the very least, he did get to wear a somewhat fancy mask whose slick black exterior studded with faux white gems managed to tick a few boxes on Julius’s aesthetics list. Surely, it wasn’t as grandiose as those the guests would be entering with, but this bandit-inspired look was still one he’d find joy and confidence in.

Speaking of confidence, none was missing when he made his way into the bar area, pacing himself as if he owned the place. In the midst of rolling up his sleeves to push the illusion of actually preparing to do any work, Julius flashed an ever so dazzling smile to his fellow bartender. He’d swiftly move past the mundane gentleman as he continued his spree of pretend play, taking a spot at the corner of the bar to ‘inspect the inventory’. Truth be told, working behind a bar wasn’t something the Seance had ever gotten much experience with, but he had been on the receiving end enough times to believe that it, surely, wouldn’t be too hard of a task.

Admittedly, pretending to clean up glasses and prepare expensive beverages didn’t align with his average ‘ghost hunt’ experience. He was no stranger to the spectral kiss of undeath given his peculiarity, and the past 9 months had weaponized his gifts quite splendidly. Even with this newfound expertise, however, Julius had no idea what they were going to be dealing with. The lack of a ghastly premature audience didn’t help much with said lack of knowledge. He wasn’t complaining, though.

Growing bored soon enough, Julius inquisitively peered around the room, granting suggestive glances to his teammates in the hopes of catching their attention. They made for a tough crowd, however; good boy Brows seemed to actually be doing his best, Glasses was probably preoccupied with that boring analytical mind of his, and Lotti was just.. too Lotti to notice. Luckily for Julius, his fellow Senior Recruit made his way to the bar soon enough, satiating the needs of the walking liability by the name of Watson.

Boy, was he ready.

In three thoughtless steps, Julius’s attention shifted away from the tall geek, his signature smirk shifting into a facade of slight worry and overbearing sincerity as he approached his new beloved colleague.

“Excuse me, Sir? Would you be so kind as to get some garnishing from the kitchen? It seems we don’t have any here. Wouldn’t want to disappoint the guests with bland drinks now, would we?”

His request slid from his lips like skates on ice, perfectly representing the inner peace within his scheming mind. ‘Improvisation’ seemed to just come naturally these days, with deceit and lies just a general part of his weekend evening routines.

A humble nod of the other gentleman answered his question soon enough. Placing some fabricated affection on his tongue, Julius uttered a swift “Thank you.”, which was enough to whip the lion back into his cage. The kitchen door lightly fell back in place as the bartender left, clearing the area for a serious deliberation.

Just kidding.

"Oh, has the valiant knight finally come to my aid?”

He began, a theatrical touch plastered to every word he uttered. His eyes shone with impish glee, focus hovering slightly between the fore- and background as he saw an approaching mouse twirl in the background.

“Worry not, good Sir, for this damsel in distress has no need for a brave guardian such as yourself! Though.. perhaps that one might.”

Julius lifted his chin in a guiding nod, smiling as the blonde explorer, Liselotte, arrived at her destination with a truly philosophical finding.

the bartender

julius.

filler tab!
mood

invigorated.

location

main hall bar.

♡coded by uxie♡

Skawly · Jan 13, 2021

Lotti

We drift like ghosts;
We are lost. I am lost.

mood ❜ curious

location ❜ chateau harrogate

company ❜ viktor, julius, and eddie

tags ❜ A A Bottle of Memories

Danidify

Pipsqueak

Lotti was, for too long of a moment, stuck in awe of the starting masquerade. Unsurprisingly, she had never seen, let alone experienced something of that sort before. The garish outfits worn by the arriving patrons was something she found to be both fascinatingly beautiful and... silly.

What was with the masks? Were they trying to hide their identity? And if they were, why didn't the masks cover their entire face? Why did their clothes look so uncomfortable? What was the point?

It was all very strange to her—interesting, but strange. Lotti was dressed in something that made a little more sense to her—it lacked the general opulence, but was still something she would consider more lavish than practical. It was a dark grey, almost black gown with a faint diamond pattern across the fabric and a lighter grey sash cinched around the waist. It obviously wasn't something she picked out herself, but nonetheless, it was tolerable to wear. Lotti supposed the idea was that she couldn't be mistaken for a guest while on the “job,” or outshine them too much, but that suited her just fine.

In fact, Lotti had the perfect plan to get as few people to speak to her as possible. For as long as she had been living among the Dianium Association in England, it worked like a charm:

“Jag pratar inte engelska.”

With those magic words, all unwanted conversations came to a screeching halt as Lotti slammed down the cast-iron language barrier.

To say that Lotti had been doing her job was a bit of an overstatement. Though, there wasn't much to be done on her end as the party had yet to reach the point cleanup would be required, but nonetheless, Lotti spent most of her time since arrival wandering about. Soon enough, she found herself back with the others. Lotti remained gawking at the room around her, turning a full 360 degrees as she approached the bar.

“It's very large in here,” she said, looking to Viktor and Julius.

code by valen t.

Pipsqueak · Jan 14, 2021

.~.~.

Status: Nervous af
Location: Chateau Harrogate
Interactions: Julius, Lotti, Vik
Mentions: A A Bottle of Memories Danidify Skawly

Edmund Belmore

The air was filled with nervous energy as the staff milled about, trying to get their bearings before the masquerade party had officially started. Eddie was among them, pulling awkwardly at the sleeves of this outfit that just screamed upper-class. It was certainly in his tastes however, and he briefly wondered how he would feel about going back to his own style that, before now, he had considered “pricey”.

Although there were plenty of staff members inside the Chateau, the place was big enough that one could easily find themselves quietly wandering the hallways and rooms alone. Eddie lingered by the stage now in the Main Hall, surveying the room in awe. He could only imagine how quickly those quiet little spaces would be filled with the presence of stuffy rich folk. Not that he had anything against the people themselves, but the thought of a crowded room this large spiked his anxiety.

Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought and resumed preparations, starting first by setting the tables. He did his best to ignore Julius who was across the room at the bar, although his presence was usually very loud, even in the silence. Unfortunately only a few seconds had passed before he saw Vik make his way over to the bar, followed closely by Lotti. With a troubled sigh he followed their lead and made his way over as well, watching as Lotti took in their surroundings much like he had.

“Sure is. Imagine when the guests get here, it’ll feel like an indoor maze.” Even as he said that he wondered how exactly she would fare in here. Someone would have to keep an eye on her.

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)

Danidify · Jan 14, 2021

STAFF | THE GRAND CONVERSATION

"You know, a 'no' would’ve sufficed." Vik sighed out in turn, already dreading the evening to come. As if on cue, the other two arrived, allowing a welcome shift in focus. “Well, it's to be expected of a castle. But I admit, it does make me feel a little exposed.” he added with a soft chuckle, attempting to mask his nervosity behind a gentle smile. “At least we’ll be able to blend in a bit more once the space fills up.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Julius would tease back, a satisfied smile exposing his shameless joy in knowingly trying to push Viktor’s buttons.

“Oh trust me, with outfits like these there’s no need to worry about ‘blending in’. We’ll practically turn invisible once those lucky bastards start flooding through those doors.” He reasoned with slight contempt, drops of envy melting into his voice the further he got into his sentence.

Eddie stood quiet for a moment before speaking up. His tone carried a hint of apology, the thought of annoying them or delaying their plans worrying him.

“Uh, so… if it’s alright, would someone mind explaining what exactly it is we are supposed to be doing again?” As he spoke, he tried to wrack his memories of the debriefing hours before. None came to mind.

“I know the thing about the potential wraith and the party, but what are we looking for?” He glanced at his teammates, looking for any hint of irritation at his inquiries.

Lotti looked down and away from Eddie’s inquiring gaze. Honestly, she wasn’t too sure on the finer details either. She couldn’t recall if this was due to vague instructions, or if she just wasn’t paying attention, but it was probably the latter.

“If this turns out to be as straightforward as it seemed at a first glance, then we won't be doing much of the looking- well, Julius aside, that is. We’re only the relay point.” Vik answered, by now leaning back against the bar, a small notebook in hand. A frown decorated his features as he went through the scribbled pages, seemingly bothered by something more than just the bartender behind him. “But there are still some things going unexplained, so if you’re interested in doing some of the looking..." the man trailed off, pocketing the book again. "Then keep an eye out on the other guests, staff and any signs of recent renovations. As for you Julius- any signs of the wraith yet?”

The seance had already detached from the conversation as it fell into a repeat of what he obviously already knew, his attention tracing away to fall on the truly harmful appearance of a woman whose fashion choices could only be described as downright atrocious. When he was about to start miming out his message of dismay, Julius twitched back into focus by the mentioning of his name, inner gears turning swiftly to properly rejoin the conversation as smoothly as possible.

“Wraith? Signs? Well, unless we count the old lady our novice housekeeper shamelessly pirouetted through on her way here, I’m afraid I have to disappoint.” Julius smirked at his own statement, eventually turning to face Liselotte after nonchalantly planting his shoulder on the bar, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.

“Speaking of, have you noticed anything of importance, ‘Gretel’? Any breadcrumbs in the area for you to follow?” He’d ponder, masking his ignorance in regards to her ability by using a metaphor to refer to it. Truth be told, Julius didn’t really know how Liselotte’s ability worked, but he couldn’t miss the chance to deliver a clever little tease.

Before Julius turned his attention to Lotti, she briefly glanced down at her dress—what was wrong with it? This was probably the nicest thing she'd ever worn. Besides, she didn't pick it out, but if she did, what she chose would have been far less tasteful.

Lotti shook her head, “I have not.” Nothing out of the ordinary yet, even for Lotti. Of course, she felt the call of the lost moments after stepping in, but she would have expected that in such a place. Unfortunately, this mission didn't entail tracking down some lost, enchanted book or locating missing people following some anomalous event.

“What sort of wraith are we finding?” she asked Viktor. Lotti wasn't by any means an expert on the undead, but she did remember that wraiths had sub-types that dictated their powers and behaviour. It might help to know which one this particular wraith was.

“Ah- well, nothing’s official yet.” Vik replied in turn, “However, assuming we are indeed dealing with a wraith…” He let the words hang in the air for a moment, the rhythmic drumming of his fingers on the bar filling the silence in their stead. One by one, he watched the pieces fall in place, ragged, flawed and misaligned. Still, he spoke his thoughts out loud. “Then I’d say the prime suspect is a mare. The lack of manifestation; medium avoidance; symptoms of paranoia; the choice of distracted targets- as of now, it’s the most straightforward answer available to us. But, that being said-“ A frown betrayed the confidence he put in his words. An awareness all too distinct from his own lingering in the back of his mind, tugging- reminding, hollowing the gaps in the story, and feeding into his desire to learn. Information. That’s what he needed. ”There are still some things that bother me, so keep an open mind. Let’s not get caught off-guard by the unexpected tonight.”

So it seemed Eddie wasn’t the only one who was pretty much in the dark about most of the going-ons around here. Between the four of them, it seemed Viktor was the only one keeping close tabs on the mission anyway, so he assumed they would be relying on him for the most part. Although Edmund couldn’t bring himself to smile, he found it amusing how meticulous his friend could be about these sorts of things. He supposed one had to be though, considering what was on the line.

Heaving a nervous sigh, Eddie nodded.

“Keeping an eye on the guests? No problem. Shouldn’t be too hard, as I’m sure most of them will come flocking at the sight of alcohol anyways.” As if on cue, Julius’ unknown bar companion came waltzing gracefully back with the delicate items for the entrees being served that night. The psychic cleared his throat to grab the attention of his teammates, grabbing a towel in the process as if to say he was headed back to work.

Pivoting on his heel, his attention was suddenly drawn to a short woman wearing a stunning wine red dress standing at the top of the grand staircase. two sharp claps had every staff member looking up at her like lost little puppies. In a clear voice that demanded their attention, she announced that the masquerade, at last, had begun.

A A Bottle of Memories

Skawly

Pipsqueak

vellichxr · Jan 17, 2021

mood

worried but staying strong

location

intruders’ carriage

tags

diwa

lion.

Plutoni

Clara Geiger

A tight emotion sat in C’s chest. An odd mix of excitement and anxiety for the events yet to unfold. They were delighted to be on their first real mission but were they ready? Was a handful of months enough time to train them all? All sorts of possibilities swam through their head as their hands tightened into balls, wrinkling the satin of their dress clutched in their hands. Their eyes stared hard out the window. Not looking at anything particular, not really taking in anything as shapes and colors passed by. Their mind had too much of a hold on their concentration. What if they got found out? What if the thrall of the party was too much? What if someone got hurt? Or Worse!

A sharp pain pulled C out of their daze as they noticed their nails had started to dig into their palm, they gently ran the thumb of the opposite hand over it as their attention pulled back to their teammates. Each smartly dressed for the masquerade. C flattened out the crumpled bits of fabric in their lap. Although they had no objections they would have hoped to wear some trousers but decided against it as they didn’t want to pull any suspicion they didn’t need. No, so a soft blue satin gown with light embroidery and lace accents were all C needed. Fancy enough to get through unnoticed but not opulent enough to hinder themselves too much. They focused back into the chatter partway through.

“Lost...Child?” C’s eyebrows knit up in confusion as they let out a soft chuckle. “Just keep in mind we’re going to this event to do actual work. Not flounce around and make a fool of oneself for an evening.” Despite the softness in their tone, their eyes looked sharply at the blond. “And no one is sacrificing anyone to anything.” C was taking this very seriously and had no problems with keeping the others in line. They had poured themselves over every detail of the briefing because they wanted, no need, to make sure this goes smoothly.

“I will be watching for anyone acting odd or showing signs of distress. I assume I can trust the three of you to further follow that lead if I am to point it out.” They said matter-of-factually. They did trust them, mostly. Despite small friendly jabs, they were all quite charming though they supposed that was what they were there for.

With a final deep breath, C gathered themselves. “Are we ready?” Was the last thing they asked before their ride came to a stop.

coded by reveriee

Plutoni · Jan 25, 2021

The Guests

Paris side-eyed Basil as he spoke, unable to help a snort as he spoke of him ‘jesting’. Barely. But his amusement was quickly displaced by an indignant ‘hey!’ as Basil used his shoulder as leverage to push himself up; he took the liberty this time to promptly shove his hands off and brush down where they had touched the fine fabric of his tailcoat, awkwardly twisting his arm up to carefully - if perhaps a touch theatrically - inspect it. Unbelievable. He probably hadn’t even washed his hands. Paris was just making a mental note to sit on the opposite side of the carriage from Basil and his grubby fingers on the way back when he felt eyes suddenly boring into his skull, and he looked up to catch C’s gaze levelled straight at him as they spoke. The grin reappeared in a flash. Jacket forgotten, he raised his hands in mock surrender, mask swinging from between his fingers as he gave an unrepentant laugh.

“Ah! Relax, C, don’t be such a wet blanket. I’m merely obeying the job description. We’re supposed to be blending in, are we not? Not only will I be flouncing, but I’ll be flouncing at the express wishes of the Dianium Association. What, is this your first big party? I mean, if you’re nervous, doll, just say that - me and Lil here will gladly show you the ropes. Isn’t that right, Lily?” The silent mirth lay plain in his voice. He almost shivered in his seat with anticipation as the carriage began to slow, hands dropping to adjust the lapels of his tailcoat before he relented a step, turning away to the approaching gates with a forced sigh. “Not that I’d want to get in the way of you standing like a lost little mannequin by the canapés, if that’s what your heart so desires. But sure, fine - I’ll keep an eye out amongst my foolery, if that makes you happy.”

Finally, the carriage pulled to a halt.
‘Are we ready?’

Paris was already up from his seat.
“An understatement,” he called over his shoulder as he popped the carriage door open, ducking out from under the low roof and all but bounding out into the night air and cobbled stone of the great driveway that now yawned wide before them. He turned smartly on his heel to hold the door as wide as it would go, sweeping a showy bow, hand raised to assist whomever stepped next from the compartment.

“The Capulet ball awaits, my friends.”

But Paris couldn’t help his eyes already wandering to his left. His heart began to thrum a little in excitement - the castle was far, far bigger than it had seemed from a distance, already lit up with movement and warm, almost hypnotic light. It only briefly crossed his mind that what they sought here was far more sinister; for the barest second he was all too aware of the cold weight of the blade concealed at his calf. The thought was gone as swiftly as it came.

Basil scrambled out of the carriage like a goose on the way to a slaughterhouse. His crimped curls had become bedraggled blunt locks, and his eyes strained with the reflection of the slim crescent handle of the rising moon. His feet paddled to the ground, dismissing Paris’ outstretched hand, the verses of the actor’s lines a music box that repeats on and on.

Capulet ball awaits.

AWAITS.

His lungs, at once, crystallized in a frozen lake that ties itself north to where the world is plain of humanity, to where blankets of snow are untouched, and there’s light even in the consumption of the night. Enchanting aurora borealis—why must you shy away from London? Somehow, Basil Everleigh forces himself to breathe, vapor of air exhaling through the gentle gaping of soft lips. He unsteadily buffed down the clothes tailored on him. It has an austere color, his suit. It began with a sheet of silk that made his skin underneath shiver, then layered atop with vanillas and creams and Spartan gold. However, when he looked down upon, all he could see was rain of a dye of blanching red, puddles diluted throughout the cutouts and hems.

“You mustn’ starve the horses or beat them unjustly with your whip,” Basil hoarsely reprimanded on the sidelines to the driver in the box. He reaches out to press a paw to the closest stallion to him, but retracts remembering the effects he had felt earlier when he had touched one. Pain..crackle of metal... Pain. In the rims of his eyes, Lily’s skirt exits out of the carriage in buoyancy. The driver heed no ear, clicking his teeth with his tongue, beginning to ready himself to turn the carriage around.

“Hey!” Basil is harsher now, unable to stay in character of a man of etiquette, rich, and royalty. “You! You- Flabby moustached-” He feels a critical need to shout, fingers clamping tighter on the mask limply looped about his fingers, “ You no good son of harpy-”

Lily rolled her eyes playfully as she went down the carriage, the gravel met her heels with a soft crunch. A small smile escaped her lips, trust Paris to make anything casual or at least light hearted. The young man truly is reliable. Though his flippancy can be sometimes endearing but there are times that his obstinacy and carelessness can be trying. Add Jules to the scenario and Lily can definitely see Vikkie pulling his hair out of its roots just to calm himself down. Before she could chortle and muster a response, Basil's berating words filled the air. Lily was annoyed and amused at the same time at what she heard, those might be silly words for some, but by his standards, it seemed like Basil cussed like a sailor. Lily then wondered if Basil can’t actually say hurtful things because of his ‘passenger’. She had half a mind of teaching him certain words that could make his angel convulse but Lily composed herself. As much as she wanted to annoy the divinity, they’ve got work to do.

"Basil," Lily said in a hushed slightly harsh tone as she walked by his side, "Enough. We do not have the luxury of time to tackle this." The concern and annoyance are evident in his expression that it’s too hard to say no but Lily held her ground. This is why she hated working with others, there are too many loose ends and unpredicted scenarios. When she’s alone, true enough everything must be calculated but those she can't control, she can either bribe, flirt or knock unconscious. If only she could do one of those things to him… No. Lily bit her lower lip momentarily then continued, "Inside, there are people who are in need of our assistance. Who are in immediate danger if we don't finish the task, if I have to point it out," Lily whispered as she tried to limit the exasperation in her voice, but staring at the young man, her annoyance died out to a certain degree, "How about this," she offered as she feign to adjust his coat for the onlookers, "As soon as this assignment is done, I will personally call for a veterinarian and have them see the horses." Lily looked at him earnestly, her hands planted on his chest. "But for now, we need to focus and see this assignment through, can you do that?"

A couple of fingers dappled atop his coat, and Basil surmised that he was cutting too loose with his volatile fears biting with predatory jaws into his flesh. So, his lips move, refraining from meeting Lily’s eyes. A wisp of breath tokening to a singular “yes,” and he’s had turned his head to the manor. Oh, how it sits! It is grandiose like a palace; the architecture crowns itself with it’s high pleuritic carved ledges and beaming windows of jarred light of the daytime sun. The carriage jounced forward as C stepped out. The quartet of guests moved in concert afterwards, impressing their feet to the gods of the winds.

Danidify · Jan 25, 2021

CHAPTER 1, PAGE 2 | COUNTING COINS

“Attention everyone, our time has come.”

“May the show finally begin.”

The lock of the castle creaked loudly as its inner mechanism disjoined, releasing the tall wooden doors to open slowly. A comforting candle-lit glow grew brighter with every inch the door furthered in its path, happily blending in with the natural spring glimmer as the guests made their way inside. Golden satin drapes hanging along the inner walls fluttered by the invitation of an evening breeze, and elegant silvery chandeliers rocked lightly at the hands of the many chains that kept them afloat.

While sturdy and seasoned from the outside, the smooth inner textures, an abundance of decorations and the light wooden floor turned the castle’s mood within a second. Wine red roses lined the terracotta pots that ran along the walls, carnations and daisies keeping them company in the wide space of the main hall. The beautiful flora was not the lead star of these prosperous displays, however, for a wide array of paintings (appendix 1), big and small, would surely woo the party guests.

It all seemed so perfect, so inviting, yet amidst this wondrous opening scene, the antagonist was already present. Busy steps passing through empty hallways, descending empty stairwells to roam through busy halls. It wore many masks: one of a socialite with particular taste, another of a dancer with moves all too alluring, and one of an artist with an eye for abstraction. It was right in front of their noses, yet still so hidden as it moved smoothly like cogs in a machine. And with every step, the house rejoiced.

Smile while you still can.

As a herd of steps moved towards the grand oasis of limitless indulgence, an alluring presence stood proudly on the stairwell, one hand gently resting on the railing as she joyfully watched the prosperous guests enter. Wine red dripped down her body in vibrant satin, playful black ribbons lining the waist of the dress. A simple feline, fox-like mask covered the upper part of her visage, leaving room only for two striking ebony eyes that traced the crowd in anticipation. With her head held up high and her posture perfectly splendid, the woman, identified as the Hostess, exuded an elegance unrivalled by anyone that was to enter this hall.

But unrivalled did not mean no one would dare to try, for these posh and proper figures, all donning exquisitely expensive gowns and suits, were sure to express their bought mystique and confidence. While these elaborate parties held a value of entertainment and good cuisine, being seen was arguably the most important step of it all. Though implicit, this all could be regarded as no more than a silent competition in which everyone was both the judge and the judged. At the end of the day, it all came down to a few questions: who’s the prettiest, who’s the wealthiest, and, most importantly, whose world shines the brightest?

Not one person in the crowd seemed to undoubtedly earn one of those titles, but contenders would be sure to steadily pop up as the party initiated. Most guests swiftly situated them around the standing tables on either side of the stairwell to play the social game, with others doing the same around the bar or near the stage where a small band of musicians was getting ready to fill the room with classical tunes. Some guests were even daunting enough to walk up the stairs, admiring the beautifully decorated area from above.

Staff members jumped into motion in the meantime, hidden faces manoeuvring through the crowd to meet the increasing list of demands. Several butlers, some of which considerably more covered up than the others, weaved through the room carrying beverages and appetizers while others lined the edges of the hall, seemingly guarding areas that were not meant to be admired. Two bartenders, now already supported by a third, rushed to keep the pace, the noises from the kitchen behind them smothered by the roars of their eventual recipients. Meanwhile, housekeepers and cleaning staff fled out of sight, humbly working in the shadows in order to ensure everything would remain spick and span.

Soon enough, some members of the crowd grew a tad more salient to their surroundings, predominantly their behaviours or appearance making for an eye-catching experience. One core example of ‘unique’ behaviour came in the shape of a young man, roughly in his 20s, who was already showing off his subpar dancing skills to his female companion smiling from the side. At another table, a small stash of older individuals began to sing happy birthday, while yet another became the home of three grimly dressed ladies whose happiness was nowhere to be found.

At the bar, a visually clashing couple had taken their seat, the blond man donning an extravagant suit and confident expression while the brunette wore modesty as a dress and discomfort as a mask. A middle-aged gentleman with a light limp had also moved to take a seat, and seemed to be happily observing the show from the side with a drink in his hand.

In the meantime, the area around the stage had garnered a small group of mostly older individuals, with the exception of an adolescent woman who was dressed in the most vibrant colours one could find at the party.

The guests walking along the edges to admire the paintings didn’t seem to house any particularly striking individuals. The only somewhat salient source came in the shape of two art critics; an older bald gentleman and younger brunette in a sky blue dress who were critically discussing one of the paintings while a blonde woman frustratedly stared them down.

At last, the people standing up on the second floor were all overshadowed by the hostess, whose presence was domineering, to say the least.

As the main hall flourished in activity, the rest of the castle quieted down, opening up an opportunity for a select few late-comers. The outside garden was virtually abandoned, with only the rustling of shrubbery disturbing the silence. Soon enough, the Intruder’s carriage would come to a standstill, dropping off 3 chosen members before swiftly escaping the daunting scene.

From the outside, option number 1 - the 2nd-floor window - seemed to be safe enough. The pillared walls of the castle were supported and decorated by a variety of slabs and sturdy hanging flower pots, making it doable to climb up. From this perspective, one wouldn’t be able to notice any movement behind the window, eluding it to be a good bet to make. If intuition reasoned otherwise, however, the backdoor was always a present yet possibly risky alternative.

Through the chaos of guests and staff, you may be able to take note of the different paintings hanging on the walls of the main hall. Although varying in size, most of the canvases seem to be of a decently large size and are all adorned with an elegant golden trim.

Though most of the paintings are too far for you to properly observe, it’s possible to perceive general shapes and themes. For one, just about every painting seems to be painted in mellow, dull colours, with even ‘bright’ flowers seeming faint and weak. Furthermore, all the paintings seem to depict a collage or collection of items, making it difficult to accurately interpret from a distance.

One painting that is more apparent in design hangs at the crossing of the stairwell, hung in a way where it directly faces those that enter the hall. From what you can tell, it seems to portray a family of 5, but more than that cannot be deciphered from this distance.

Should one walk past and/or (briefly) admire the paintings, they would notice the paintings to be culminations of death & wealth symbolism provocatively mixed together. No matter where you look, the canvases melt together images of crowns, jewellery, instruments, books and flowers with elaborate skulls, broken objects, deceased animals and withering plants. Even just a glance would be enough to make anyone feel a tad uncomfortable.

Skawly A A Bottle of Memories

solarsaphia

diwa

vellichxr

Umbral_Arcanist_XI

Danidify · Feb 2, 2021

Truth be told, Julius had already detached from the conversation the moment he had received a disappointing answer to his own question. His hand had slipped to a bottle of gin soon after, admiring the liquid gold while Mr. Lockwood and his trusty lackey, Brows, blabbered on about something he’d undoubtedly know already.

For what it’s worth, his selective absence allowed him to pick up on the return of his newfound friend a tad faster, swiftly moving into action only to be beaten by the cough of that darned psychic. Either way, he still had a role to play.

“Ah, my friend! That’s looking just splendid, really. Let me take a closer look!”

Julius uttered happily, blatantly barring the bartender’s view over the bar in an attempt to shield his fellow infiltrators. Who said he was selfish? Ridiculous, really!

The Seance’s mission to pester the Bartender soon came to an abrupt end as the piercing sound of two claps ruined the peaceful mood. His attention shifted to the women on the stairwell - a striking figure that oozed a sense of confidence by merely standing. Though he always appreciated a difficult battle, he knew this wasn’t one he should pick. Some people could even dominate him.

As the gates opened at once, Julius couldn’t help but take a moment to glare with envy as a storm of glitter flooded through the entrance. Just look at them- with all that money simply slathering down their body in pompous wear and accessories one couldn’t even perceive from this distance.. Why couldn’t it be him in their shoes?

Unfortunately, there wasn’t all that much time to be jealous. They had a job to do, after all, and Julius’s quick thinking had picked up on a little bird that could prove eerily useful in the work ethic of ‘minimalistic, yet effective’. Brace yourself, Liselotte.

While the guests continued to make their entrance, the Seance leaned over the bar slightly before raising his voice to overpower the noise of embodied pretentiousness.

“Housekeeper, would you be so kind as to assist us for a while? It seems a certain someone has been slacking off on preparations”

. Julius raised his voice theatrically as he uttered the second sentence, glaringly looking over his shoulder to the other bartender. Admittedly, he had done nothing wrong, but who was to blame for this nonexistent issue was not the essence of this situation. They had more important things to figure out than to care for the emotions of some subpar worker.

With a gentle motion of the arm, the best bartender invited the housekeeper to enter the other side of the bar.

“Please, make yourself at home. There are some glasses eagerly waiting for you in the corner!”

He’d add as Lotti came along, grabbing some clean ‘filthy’ glasses from the other Bartender’s side and placing them as far away from him as possible for Lotti to clean again.

Sometimes, the timing of a certain occurrence sure was ideal, and this was one of them. Just when Julius needed the help of a little misdirection, guests had caught onto the trail of alcohol scent and were swiftly making their way towards the bar.

Making use of the moment, Julius stepped to the side of Lotti as he pretended to clean a glass of his own, taking a quick peek over his shoulder before taking action.

“Let’s stake out here for a while, yeah? There’s a pencil and paper under the counter if you fancy slipping some secrets around.”

, the Seance suggested, his voice surrounded by the odd aroma of moderate formality and seriousness. It wasn't often that Julius let his mask of carelessness slip away, but it seemed that there was just enough of a work ethic within him to keep him from slacking off completely.

And so, a time of theatre ensued as Julius played the role of a dapper, energetic bartender, ready to tackle even the most difficult of requests! He would keep an eye out for anything that would raise his suspicions, but his eyes continuously would fail to look past the veil of the material world. It seemed that the spirits were not all too keen on attending the party..

the bartender

julius.

filler tab!
mood

invested.

location

main hall bar.

♡coded by uxie♡

Pipsqueak · Feb 3, 2021

~_~_~

Status: Determined/ Anxious
Location: Chateau
Interactions: Random guests/ Waiter
Mentions: None

Edmund Belmore

As the guests piled in the anxiety finally reared its head in full force. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of all of the elegant and magnificently dressed people wondered, wide eyed, into the main hall. His hands clenched tightly by his side, desperately trying to ground his now racing mind. What if this ended terribly? He hadn’t received a vision last night at all, something that had been bothering him since they had arrived. What if he overlooked something during this mission that made everything fall apart? Would one of his teammates die because of his carelessness? Would the organization throw him back out onto the streets, leading to his timely arrest? Nausea creeped its way into his stomach now and he had to lean (casually, of course) on the nearest wall so as not to faint.

Stop that nonsense Edmund. He heard himself scold in his head. It was true. He needed to get it together or he could blow his cover right off the bat. Just as he righted himself into a more presentable stance, a fellow waiter turned in his direction. The psychic cleared his throat to get his attention.

“I can take that off of your hands for you,” He offered, nodding towards the tray of drinks balancing precariously in the waiter’s hand, “if you don’t mind. A bit new here you see, I’d prefer to have a tray already set out and prepared.” Eddie gave a sheepish smile. The waiter gave him an odd look but thankfully didn’t question it. He gave a hesitant nod and passed the silver tray carefully over to Eddie.

“Appreciate it much.” Giving polite nod in return Eddie glanced around the room again. It was easier to clear his mind if he just focused on what he should be doing, so picking a route he just went for it. He allowed his feet to drag him up the stairs, watching as waiters and guests alike meandered their way to the second floor as well. Once at the top, he was a bit underwhelmed. Only a square room came to greet him. It was spacey however, and four heavily guarded doors stood on each side of the room. There were about 25 guests here including some art critics and the hostess herself. If he hadn’t been so mesmerized by her odd beauty he probably would have missed it, but only a second later a small, masked woman came from one of the guarded doors just near her. The woman seemed fidgety, closing the door in a rushed manner and trying- yet failing- to casually right her mask onto her face.

Her demeanor didn’t seem to bother anyone else but him. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she made her way over to the hostess, talking in a low voice so as not to be heard. Eddie decided it was probably a good a place to start as any, so he too made his way slowly towards the women, making sure to stop and ask the guests if they wanted drinks to not look so suspicious. Just when he reached hearing distance he turned to a nearby guest, urging a drink as he strained to listen to the gossip. It was then that an odd, earthy scent filled his nose. It reminded him of herbs or spices, and he quickly pinpointed the somehow comforting smell to the fidgety woman. Eddie kept a mental note as he now chided a man for reaching unceremoniously for one of the drinks.

Too bad I wasn’t a guest.

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)

A Bottle of Memories · Feb 5, 2021

Viktor Lockwood

Character Sheet
Pinterest Board
Playlist

Coded by Solarsphia

Chapter 1.2

Occam's Razor

The wood yawned with decades worth of fatigue as it gave way to the grinding of metal, a wave of silver and gold spilling through its arches and into the halls. Turbulent and wild, the flood soon settled into an unassuming stream, pooling around the lavish paintings of withering glory, and blending with the decorations. No decrees were made. No rules spoken. Taming the tumultuous currents was an unseen force, a silent truth, one that lurked beneath the dashing portraits, dazzling decor and the inviting smiles of the staff, as even in these uncharted waters, the crowd simply flowed as etiquette demanded.

Viktor's keen eyes took careful note of the respective movements of his fellow operatives, as the undercurrent tugged at his feet, carrying him through the crowd. Perhaps, he too would have found himself swept up by the glamour of it all, had it not been for the chill creeping up his spine. A reminder of one far more eager for answers, albeit not ones that favoured the truth. For a moment, it left him to wonder what other forces lurked beneath the surface, tempting the waters to flow in their favor. Still, other duties came first.

Carefully, the man broke from the crowd, his steps carrying him past the areas reserved for guests, into a new terrain. One that housed pots, pans and a bustling group of six preparing an array of snacks and sides. Their work certainly matched the splendor of the party, though he supposed Edmund wouldn't think the same of their rather mundane attire. Vik's own eyes, however, were drawn to far more peculiar detail. Masks? What reason did the chefs have for donning those? Only two of the waiters seemed to be wearing them too. Odd. His eyes narrowed behind the glass lenses, waiting for the image to sharpen- was that...a scar? For a moment, his imagination ran wild.

'Now that's just silly.', he retorted voicelessly to the one roused from its slumber, averting his gaze to eye the counter of finished and all-too-appetizing sides. This was no time to go off into wonderland. He'd come in looking for signs of the mundane: tampering, perhaps a poison of some sort. Not all missions turned out peculiar in nature, after all. However, examining all the options did not include getting side-tracked by an over-active imagination. However odd, it was hardly a detail worthy of the preposterous theories the other brought up. Not to mention- he wasn't about to be insensitive. What if they'd been wearing the masks to hide some form of injury?

Still, it remained unconvinced. Doubt pooling around his head, itching to creep in through his defenses. Even with the considerable distance between them, it had no trouble making its intrigue known, seeping in through the cracks as Viktor reeled in his thoughts with growing frustration. It was stifling his rationale, scrambling his already scattered thoughts, plaguing his mind with 'what if?'s. Still, even in the face of mounting temptation, he couldn't bring himself to think it right. Still, stubborn as he was, Viktor wasn't about to let it nag him for the whole eve.

With a subtle glance to the side, his eyes were once more drawn to the two stand-outs among the chefs, a set of porcelain-white masks hiding away their features. This time he knew where to look. There- right around the edge of the mask, dried skin with a long scar peeking out. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as flashes of files danced before his mind- vivid as could be, sights of yellowed skin and the rot of mangled corpses.

He snapped his head back to the table before him, a drop of sweat sliding down his neck as his hand trembled lightly. Shame soon joined the cacophony of nousea and dread that crept up his throat, forming a lump even as the ponderings echoed through his mind in his own voice. He should've known better really- of course it'd pull out those files again- but when had knowing better stopped him from following his whims? Ha- how he could use another scolding right now- even if only to ground him a little. But Lily was elsewhere, no doubt roaming the floor with the other guests. He was on his own here.

Breathe.

A voice spoke unlike his own- softer, gentler, as he let out a shaky breath. Cold metal grazed his hands as he took hold of another plate, allowing his hands to trail over the smoothened surface. He focused as air filled his lungs, his mind trying to pick apart the scents that wafted in from the kitchen. Soon he was reminded of the crackling fire and the clattering of pots and pans. His mind eased, and he took his time loading up the platters, the tremor in his hand reduced to nothingness.

That was when he caught a door creaking in the kitchen, instinctively glancing up to watch another waiter pass him by, his dashing smile left unobscured by a black mask lined with gold. He watched the other pass by with a friendly nod, a singular murky red beverage balanced carefully on his platter. Really, now that he thought about it, it was surprisingly easy to carry all these plates, as long as he imagined they were books. Still, he wasn't planning to push his luck with any drinks. He didn't need the temptation.

Still.

That was odd, wasn't it?

A singular glass of wine? Where'd the other even come from? The storage- Viktor swiveled on his heel, the tides shifting as he pushed on ahead, catching hold of a current previously unseen. Perhaps this too was nothing. Perhaps. But it was better than eyeing up a harmless scar and creating fancy notions worthy of even the grimmest fiction. 'Occam's razor, was it?', he pondered, a loaded platter in hand as he trailed behind the other, ever-careful not to stand-out, even as his old friend stirred and stewed at the new development. He would've laughed, had it not been for the company. 'Poison too boring for you, then?' He teased, careful not to earn its ire, 'Apologies, but I've got some doubts to cut before I grasp onto your thin straws.'

Status

Uninjured, stabilizing following a minor internal disagreement and its consequences.

Location

1st floor, just left the kitchen, now roaming near crowded tables next to the stairwell.

Mentions

Eddie [@Pipsqueak ]
Lily [@TheTraveller]

Interactions

None yet.

coded by natasha.

Skawly · Feb 6, 2021

Lotti

We drift like ghosts;
We are lost. I am lost.

mood ❜ neutral

location ❜ chateau harrogate

company ❜ julius and some guests

tags ❜

Danidify

With all its glitz and glory, Lotti couldn't help but feel pangs of intimidation mixed in among the wonder. The potency of her apprehension only rose as she continued to take in her surroundings. The entirety of Chateau Horrogate was a lot for her to process—there wasn't anything even close to something like this back home. Come to think, Lotti hadn't really seen much of Sweden outside her small village; she had only ever assumed it was all like her home town, but as she began to become more well-traveled, it became evident to her that most places were not small, remote villages; the world was much more vast and diverse than she could have ever imagined. Even as she was becoming gradually more accustomed to life outside rural Scandinavia, she couldn't help but feel as though she felt out of place, even in her disguise. It was possible that something as extravagant as this was just a weird English thing; the people she grew up with were the humble, hardworking sort that only cared for the essentials, and passed along any access to friends and neighbors in need. This room alone contained far more than anyone there had in a lifetime, if not generations.

Lotti stood, stock-still in the middle of the room as the guests began flocking inward. She'd never seen so many people packing themselves into such a closed space. By now, she was used to watching people meander through city streets, but this wasn't quite the same. Even as big as cities were to her, they were open and spread out, for people to come and go in any and all directions, to anywhere. Here, however, wasn't. Guests only stood around, usually in small groups, wandering from one side of the room to the other. Liselotte had been far too distracted taking everything else in to notice both Eddie and Victor leaving the room, and by this point, she hadn't even realized they had gone.

“Housekeeper, would you be so kind as to assist us for a while? It seems a certain someone has been slacking off on preparations,” she heard Julius' voice call out from behind the bar she absent-mindedly wandered near. Relief washed over her at the sound of a familiar voice.

Nodding sheepishly, Lotti responded with a nearly inaudible “okay,” as she sought refuge behind the counter. At Julius’ request, Lotti got to work on some suspiciously clean “dirty” glasses. She took her sweet time on them, half to look busy and inconspicuous, and half for the purpose of fidgeting.

“Let’s stake out here for a while, yeah? There’s a pencil and paper under the counter if you fancy slipping some secrets around,” Julius said, causing Lotti to glance down to the drawer level with her hip. Inspecting the drawer, nothing else of interest was hiding within it—nothing lost, and nothing suspicious. Taking out the pad and pen, she tucked both into the cloth cinched at her waist—so maybe that was its purpose, in lieu of pockets? Maybe?

Little of interest happened for the next few minutes as Lotti continued to gape out into the open, “washing” the same glass over and over as her mind wandered across the floor, shifting from face-to-hidden face as though an explanation for just why would literally jump out and bite her on the nose. Her attention was quickly broken as five people moved into her field of vision, seating themselves on the stools lined against the bar counter. Among these, two stood out the most to her; the first Lotti noticed was a blond man, dressed in what could only be described as the most ostentatious as possible. His tuxedo boasted a deep shade of red that contrasted against the gold of his jewelry, causing all else around him to seemingly fall into desaturation, though none such as the woman next to him. She was, in comparison, dressed more modestly, even compared to the other guests, though by no means was she in rags.

Lotti knew little of fashion, but the contrast between the two reminded her of a book she had glimpsed depicting the peacock, with the opulent, feathered plumage of the male, and the smaller, less colorful female. “Bird couple,” Lotti’s mind chimed in as she watched the red-suited peacock man crow and boast to the other bartender, while the woman seemed unimpressed, if not irritably familiar with his alleged accomplishments. “Leo,” as she heard him be called, soon toned down his antics, falling back onto a more playful demeanor. Throughout the entire display, Lotti had met the occasional glance with another guest, a man she had noticed hobbling towards the bar with a limp. He appeared to find this man as entertaining as she had, with his gaze drifting from Leo, to the bartender, and occasionally back to Lotti as they both listened in on the tales of wealth being verbally tossed across the countertop.

Returning to her “work,” Lotti’s attention wasn’t brought back up until the sound of glass shattering caused her gaze to fix onto the immediate and obvious culprit. Leo, while attempting to tell a joke, bumped a waving ringed-hand across his own wine glass. In that moment, the man seemingly shriveled before nervously laughing it off.

Passing around the counter, Lotti grabbed for the dustpan hanging close by to begin sweeping up the bits of glass and wine now strewn along the ground. As Lotti stooped just behind the “bird couple,” the woman turned, apologizing for Leo, while he only paid a brief glance to Lotti before pretending it never happened.

code by valen t.

Umbral_Arcanist_XI · Feb 7, 2021

Team Intruder

At Hugo’s question, Erick wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He understood the concern—splitting up tended to lead to awful consequences—but he was afraid of the alternatives. In his mind, if he let the others handle the wraith, or whatever plagued this castle, then he could avoid the encounter altogether. That meant no fighting and (hopefully) no violent blackouts. Sure, he might end up engaged in combat regardless, in which case his plan would’ve been for nothing. As nervous as he was, however, his brain struggled to think of another way out.

Naturally, he found trouble voicing this train of thought. It felt selfish, lazy, and rude, even though logic dictated that proposing an idea of his own wasn’t wrong. He nevertheless didn’t speak for a short while, trapped in his heightened self-doubt. But soon the right words came to him.

“It’s a risk; I know that well. Please don’t misunderstand: I’m not suggesting it because I think I’m capable enough to prevent things from going wrong. Not at all.” He rubbed the side of his arm, voice solemn. “I just believe it's better for me to avoid encounters altogether, if possible.” He stopped before he could explain any further. An elaboration didn’t even cross his mind; that required more talking than he was up for at the moment.

Ah, of course, Erick was likely worried about the “guest” in his head. Hugo felt sympathy for the lad, truly. For he knew a thing or two about losing control. The man’s features softened as he inclined his head towards the younger. “My apologies Erick, I should’ve remembered your, ah, aversion to conflict,” Absently Hugo rubbed at the charm around his neck with his thumb and forefinger, “However, I feel I must stress that should any trouble befall you that you cannae handle alone ,please, seek one of us out,”

And so silence enveloped the carriage once more.

Naomi was glad for the quiet. As she stepped out into the garden, one hand pressed against where her dagger lay, she was able to give the environment her undistracted scrutiny. There were well-trimmed shrubs, a clear view of the castle’s side, and thankfully, no one in sight. Whoever had picked the location had done so well.

From what she could see, there were two possibilities: the window and the back door. Even on instinct, the idea of waltzing straight into the (possibly) metaphorical dragon’s den made her nervous, and none of them had the skill to blend into the wall on command. The wall, though — she could scale it. There were plenty of intents and protruding bricks, and from what she could see, no wisp of action lay behind the ivory curtain. And yet, she knew one of them falling would be a catastrophe. Their scrapyard group might have been labeled the intruders, for all they were worth, but making a ruckus in the castle grounds was just asking for unwanted attention.

“We might want to split when entering,” Naomi began, chewing her lip absentmindedly as she looked the castle up and down. “The door’s too obvious for all three of us, but everyone scaling the building—” She pointed to the second-floor window. “Isn’t exactly the best solution.”

Havoc’s words from earlier fluttered to remembrance at the back of her mind. “You said you wanted to check the documentation, yeah?” She said, turning to address the shorter man.

Erick’s eyes drifted to where Cipher had pointed. She was right—the window and door were their best bets at entering, but all three of them going in one way screamed ‘bad idea’. He was glad she suggested splitting up as well. That little bit of validation relaxed his shoulders quite a bit.

Realizing he’d yet to answer her in regards to the records, Erick promptly spoke up. “Yes, you’re right,” he said, straight-forward and to the point.

His gaze remained planted on the window as he spoke. The wall looked climbable enough. He should be able to get up there without any problems if he was careful. He’d just have to keep in mind that falling wasn’t an option. If he did hit the ground, even if he blacked-out before the impact and felt nothing, the commotion would ruin everything. The injuries he might sustain weren't exactly trivial, either. Yet…

“If neither of you have any objections, I still would like to split up and look for those documents on my own,” Erick began again. Despite his resolute tone, he meant it—if they were opposed to this, he would give up on it. Besides, working together as a team was far more important. Going off on his own without their approval wasn’t exactly cooperation. Although… neglecting to speak up and explain his reasoning didn’t help all that much, either.

Despite the black ball of anxiety slithering in his gut whispering all the things that could go wrong Hugo ignored them. It was time to focus on the mission, any misgivings he had were irrelevant. “Go on lad. Just promise to be careful and keep yer wits about you. We are still not sure what we are dealin’ with after all,'' Hugh cautioned. The Deaform turned to Cipher and gestured to the door. “Guess you’re with me, eh? Welp we’d best be goin’, we’re burin’ moonlight,”

And with that Hugo would head towards the door. With a steady, gentle hand he tried the knob. Locked. Not surprising but it never hurt to check. Now grasping the knob tightly Hugh would simply jerk his wrist until he could feel the thumblers snap, thus breaking the lock. Then ever so slowly he would open the door and peer inside.

diwa · Feb 14, 2021

.lily lexington.

†

a.k.a. ▸ Alice
aspect ▸ divine artefact
area of expertise ▸ fieldwork
mood ▸ pure anticipation and curiosity
wearing ▸ ball gown ; mask ;
location ▸ Chateau Harrogate, first floor
with (previously) Paris

Plutoni , Basil

lion. and C - (currently) Viktor A A Bottle of Memories

The halls provided less comfort from the biting cold of the evening air. Lily could still feel the nip against her fair skin even though they were inside. It must be the nerves, she apprehended to herself. She tried to calm her mind by focusing on her breath. Inhale, everything is going to be fine. Exhale, follow the plan and everything will be well. Although at the back of her mind she could hear a tiny negative nagging voice of failure, Lily managed to ignore it at the moment. She then placed the negative thought as her being famished and nothing else.

Like everyone else, she couldn’t help but admire the silver and golden motif of the interior of the castle as they headed inside. The decors and design adorning the chateau screams regality and sophistication. Even the well-polished door handle and the wooden floor. It all exudes the aura of nobility. Smoke and mirrors, she thought. It brought her back to the times when she and her family frequented every ball and banquet within the area. If you want your party to stand out above the rest, one has to be more flamboyant, extravagant and unique than the previous soirée. It was a silent rule within the higher community. And this party has everything to make it the talk of the town for a time. And then some.

On one of the reflected surfaces, Lily caught a sight of herself. In order to blend with the crowd, their little group had to dress to impress. Like all attendees, their face is half hidden behind a mask. Everyone is different from the other and yet, they do not stand out. Hers was inspired by a venetian mask. It must be a jest to her name but the main theme of her mask were flowers. The fabrication was too life-like, intricate and beautiful. Silver metal flowers basically covered every surface of the piece while the water dew-like design filled the gaps here and there. The silver chains were like vines, connecting from one point to another. It has some weight but she felt comfortable wearing it.

Her dress was toned down compared to her mask, though it still glimmered every time she moved as the light captured the glint of the beads she was donning. It is simple and yet elegant at the same time. The modest bateau neckline was lined with laces and beads, normally it is something that she complains about for it itches but the task on hand was more than enough for her to not talk about it. Its sleeves were made for her to move freely if need be. The corset was in its usual tightness that hugs her curves in a perfect position. The removable skirt was the main thing she adores in her ensemble. The special line of crinoline was sewn on her petticoat instead of her wearing its uncomfortable contraption. She could feel its weight, along with the weight of the fabric of her dress, but at any given notice, she could easily remove the skirt and run freely with the trousers she's wearing underneath.

Just as they were assigned as guests, she still came prepared. Hidden in the swirls and twirls of her blonde hair is a silver hair stick, long and sharp enough to be a dagger if wielded properly. On her right thigh is a sheathed ritual blade while on left is a personalized lock pick set. Her weapons are not much, true enough, but it is better than nothing. Lily reminded herself to look for the other team to get some actual weapons.

The crowd was already milling inside when they arrived. Groups of older gentlemen and ladies minding their business. Lily could feel the buzz of anticipation and curiosity from the crowd. Some were probably eager to meet their hostess for the night, while some did not care about it all. They just wanted to enjoy the festivities.

All was well when her stomach gurgled ever so quietly. Lily bit her lip and rolled her eyes. Not really lady like. "Alright, I will get some food first." she sighed, leaning towards Paris. "I will meet you at the bar." Squeezing his arm lightly as she bid goodbye to others.

Lily’s gaze scanned the crowd, hoping to see a familiar figure. Or if she’s being honest, an attendant carrying a platter of sustenance. Scouting one, she followed them up the stairs and into the second floor. Her eyes wandered a bit and instead of seeing the server, the hostess finally made an appearance.

Alas, the show has started. The woman commanded regality and sophistication just by standing with poise. As to how, Lily doesn't know the answer but just like everyone else, her eyes were transfixed at the lady of the chateau. Her aura and appeal, so ethereal that it is so hauntingly beautiful. No one could hold a candle to her. Lily couldn't help but to stare, if she even were to be honest, the hostess made her heart skip its beat.

Was she their target? She cannot just jump into conclusion. If it weren’t for her hunger, she would stay. For now, she needed to get something to satisfy her stomach while surveying the crowd from the sidelines and maybe perhaps even find a way on how to get to the other rooms up the stairs that were guarded. Maybe there is something that will give them a clue as to what they are truly dealing with.

She descended the stairs, bowing her head curtly, smiling if need be as she passed by other guests. Finally, a sweet smile of victory involuntarily etched on her face as she happened to spot one of the servers with a platter of appetizers by the tables. Sauntering towards him, Lily noticed the familiar figure. His posture was the dead give-away. Viktor. He’s already on the move. A sense of relief filled her heart knowing that the other team is already in position. “I will have some of that, please.” Lily said, appearing on his side, picking out one dish that could fit in the palm of her hand. “Such a delectable piece.” Lily crooned with a smile. “I think I might have some second helpings; I hope I’m not keeping you from going somewhere?”

lion. · Feb 16, 2021

Basil Everleigh

The Arthurian manor that could reach the apogee of classical fame was also a definite diamond in the rough. The folding doors purled back like two king-sized Cerberus’ turning tails. Shiftingly, their boarded mouths and cowled eyes sided outwards to the darksome night. The foyer ingressed the team of guests into a single bend of a hallway that holds itself as genuine as one long flute note before the instruments banjoed.

Infield, Basil was held captive to the live production of fables. The main hall in particular held flights of fancy even in its groundwork. Magnetized, Basil’s neck rolled back in a shortfelt delight. He followed the canes of the erect beams that braided upwards like an olive tree. Cresting together to the ceiling, their unison resulted in sprouted beds of chandeliers in genuflecting glass and candles. In dwarfian sizes, Aesop’s animals romped under- swivel left and gowns titanically fanned out like umbrellas with volumes of textile so thick that unspun from their seams could stretch and touch Notre Dame.

A hare and a tortoise could waltz together if they desired. One of a kind was each mask, scissored out in unparagoned takes of how the soul looked within. Some hankered after the darkness in waspish lace and mystic feathers and others courted light in rhinestones and paint. A matter of masks could tell the time to that truth; swathing faces were the charades of tonight’s play. Veiled were the guests aside from the variants that come about in the geometry of protruding noses and dictation that moves the mould of lips. Therefore, the distinction of the strangers relied solely on the decievement of what they dressed as. Basil Everleigh did not disappoint on this end.

A basic knot of strings around the circumference of his head sealed his identity for the night. He made a crane. Faultless and flawless grace—that was a crane. A crane was long-necked. It’s head challenged not the mercy of the ground but of the skies. It was poised; it had little sentiment for farewells in it’s aproned white chest, and thus flew effortlessly. Incomparable was Basil—He studied his reflection and saw no resemblances. Still, as long as the night endured, the crane would live.

..Desert of the lost...Jungle of the found..everglades of the wild…

Will the crane fly in this spherical carousel that is being spun and spun.. in the hands of an unknown?

“Why was I made the younger half brother? I’m a foot taller-” Basil crooned,when they were out of earshot of a crowd. He fussed with the collar of his shirt whose beaded tufts scratched the skin beneath.

“More like..a half an inch,”corrected C with tacky smugness.

“At least an inch,” he denounced, though softly at a changeabout of strain lifting from a smile that shadowed under the bill of his mask.

“Make it a centimeter.”

Linking arms, admitted in motion, were Basil and Clara as half siblings whereas Paris and Lily split off as distant cousins. A birthday song hummed a yard of a distance away, the words contagious. Estimates to that crowd were quick to inscribe to the mind; from what was visible, age had just become smitten to them. Slight furrows and rumples swelled the sides of their mouths when they opened to sing.
Basil resisted as the duo drifted past.

“Don’t even think about it,” Clara said when she saw the twinkle in his eyes.

“I know. I know, it’s a florist’s demise,” assured Basil, thinking back to how he enjoyed distributing out flowers for birthdays. Then, he sincerely added, “How can I not wish someone another year of life? Living is a gift in itself.”

“We won’t be living if you continue being blind. One, have you noticed the three women in equidistant of three paces behind us watching the same crowd?”

“No?” Basil tongued, cutting short before his canines clamped down his mouth in bewilderment.

“Don’t be a fool and look them right in the eye as soon as I said that.”

“Ha, ha? Too late?”
The minute hand on the clock clacked and protracted downwards. Basil and C glazed over the guests in a state of pensiveness almost like it was a dream within a dream. Albeit, Basil’s eyes were not lucidly roaming. It was by no accident that they continually tarried over one man who made himself the jester of the court. Wills of tugs these strong never should be abandoned, yet the designations on the explanation to why his liquid greens shifted remained vacant. Dutifully, that became clear not a moment later.

No one wants to be suffocated, by anything, especially their own mind. This one is not just an irritation of a person knocking down your door. No-this is a powerful gust of wind, the entity of the angel in painstaking urgency, ripping the door off its hinges, and yet continuing to swish in the head, without stopping, demanding for more room, and more to say…

Telling the imminent future came with costs especially if they were prewritten deaths.
A
nd, to get rid of all that hurts humanity, all Basil had to do is close their eyes and give up.
The thought of giving up is cowardly, and Basil knew it. But, the panic forms in the pits of his stomach, adding weight to his sinking vessel of a body, letting the waters pull him down with ease. He had to know. His eyes start to wither. A soft chant whispers in the air, singing a sweet lullaby, luring him into infinite sleep, and finally: he lets go. Suddenly, it's not painful, it’s peaceful. Like he’s walking under waterfalls... the water slowly forms to the angel whose features cannot be seen. She wraps him in her arms, coaxing him to sleep and promising to take care of him. The once angry waves calmed to a gentleness. Exteriorly, he has shielded his ragingly white eyes with a palm as if he was rubbing them. The angel spoke, lips complacently hovering over the curl of his ear, “Sip slowly for an agonizing death, you certainly will not go in a breath. Hurry before it goes all blurry. Time will trickle in a flurry.”

Grasping a nearby table, Basil snapped out of the trance. C, whose agenda had other purposes, had wreathed through other crowds towards the paintings unknown to Basil’s revelation. But, Basil was panting too loud to stop her, his chest jolting in tremors. His eyes went wide as they could go, rehearsing the angel’s lines without words, his tongue folding over them. Sip. Death. Hurry. Bounced to the young man were his eyes. They broke off to his female companion. Again, they returned back to him.

Sip-

It was a slim escape from fate: he saw something quite isotopically imaginative. In movements that sucked out speed, a waiter in aurelian accessory put down a total of two drinks: a glass of water and an ambiguous colored drink.

Sip.

It had to have been the drink. Something dreadful was in that mixture. At that point, Basil Everleigh scrambled towards the waiter, freezing footfalls to see that C had distanced quite inevitably. He yearned for nothing else but to follow the waiter and dispose of the drinks, but knew that the Association would have his head if he took the operative on his own and revealed the mission incidentally. Why did C have to move so fast?

Keep calm. Keep calm. Keep calm.

“C, what was that?! We are a team,” Basil sputtered upon reaching her, jumbling words, “Furthermore, I have to tell you something-”

“Shh,” she hushed, crossing elbows to concentrate, “There’s something off about those critics or that painting-”

“I have-” Basil repeated.

“That woman over there. Blonde. She called her “Tea.” Little strange alias, is it not?” Basil peered over to the crowd that C had explicitly gartered her attention on.

“Danger,” he was now speaking in one syllables, unable to properly attend the scenario to which C was contemplating.

“Dangerous? Not, yet Basil. But, could be.”

“Can you forsakenly listen for a second!?” Basil erupted, “There is trouble back where we just came from.”

@teamguests

Plutoni

diwa

ClownPope

coded by weldherwings.

Kimby · Feb 17, 2021

MOOD: Suspicious

LOCATION: Main Hall
basics

MENTIONS:
Basil lion.
C
INT:
tags

Outfit

dress

mask
outfit

????

It was a good night for a masquerade. The full mask she wears every night now perfectly fits the setting. Though this mask was a bit fancier than what she usually dons, the golden accents shimmer under the chandelier lights, and for once, people were stepping into her world. Though the bitter feeling washed over her as she knew that everyone else can go about any other night without having to hide their face.

Standing on one of the balconies looking down at the main hall, she watched as people were being enchanted by the façade of the party itself and what it had to offer. And also saw people wandering off in hopes to find a world of pleasure waiting for them. Her gaze wandered as well, until falling upon the eyes of the one who had summoned her here in the first place. The subtle nod from this person would confirm that she still had much work to do. Receding from the balcony, she left to make sure those that wandered would find their place one way or another.

By now she had learned the layout of this chateau with all its tricks and turns. Following one such path from the balcony to the lower floor, she blends in with the wall décor as a flirtatious party goer and her potential lover pass by. She watched as they disappeared around the corner before moving to get closer.

A few moments later, only the man emerged around the corner, stumbling through the hall. She quickly emerged from her hiding spot to catch up to the man, placing her hand on the back of his neck. After some words whispered to him, his eyes glazed over with a gray fog for a second before returning to normal. He turned to her and stumbled on his words, embarrassed about getting lost in the chateau.

"No worries darling, let's get you back to the party shall we?" She said, guiding him back to the main hall. As they walk in she could see the same woman that had sneaked her way through the hallway earlier using her charm on her next potential lover.

She sat the man at the bar but stayed with him to make sure he was acting the way he was supposed to. Her ears then pick up a suspicious conversation as she focused in on two people who seemed on edge and too focused on the other guests. She kept her eyes on them, trying to confirm whether or not she needed to take care of unruly guests.

code by valen t.

Multiple Settings Forteans | Main thread

Wigless

Wigless

Wigless

???

New Member

Wigless

Local Cryptid

<3

Wigless

no one is too old for fairytales

Magic Eight Ball

hiraya manawari

spin it!

an average nobody

Just Clownin' Around

spin it!

Wigless

Wigless

<3

New Member

Local Cryptid

Magic Eight Ball

hiraya manawari

an average nobody

Soft Apocalypse

Users who are viewing this thread

Similar threads