Day VII. Masquerade Ball [Saturday Evening]

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Mila
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Day VII. Masquerade Ball [Saturday Evening] Nov 24, 2012 0:45:24 GMT -5

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Post by Mila on Nov 24, 2012 0:45:24 GMT -5

21:50:59 [HexInstitute] The Great Hall's doors were pulled permanently open, the large doorway in view of the grand staircase directly opposite from the Hall affording those within a view of oncoming students as they descended with the grandeur of royalty, and those at the steps a view of what was within. Youths already milling in, as many with dates as those without - for the Annual Hex Masquerade Ball, that traditionally fell after the first week of the year's first semester gave students, new and old, only a few short days to secure a likely partner. This often caused a good deal amount of stress and tears for the most fickle of the female population. There were many boys happy to strut into the Hall with their retinue of friends, outfitted in Venetian masks of the more sinister and amusing. Why, there were plenty of bold coloured domino's to be seen, and black was obviously a popular colour amongst them. Jesters were found, Phantom half-masks and even those with the hideous drooped beak, wolves, rabbits and more. The students took the dress code as a fairly serious rule, and it was to be noted that many of them looked as magnificent as the setting. Breath-taking was the decorated Hall, outfitted like a Ballroom of old, the large tables had been cleared and replaced with small, marble, glass and gilt affairs that were littered on the outskirts of the room. Chandeliers of glass, silver, gold and flame hovered above, and live Fae lights of minuscule orbs drifted about the room. They were almost as beauteous as the grand windows that revealed the night-sky and it's littering of stars, and the reflection on the midnight loch. Propped up in front of the windows on the dais that usually housed the faculty table, was an orchestra or band. They were a quirky group of Sirens, a band that put a youthful, rebellious and notably electric spin on classical Ether music. Dressed like rockers, there was a number of students who were likely to have stashes of their photographs and posters, smeared with lip gloss and scrawled hearts. Banquet tables were draped with the same, Ether-dusted cloths, shimmering in the low lighting with fantasy. On their tops was an array of fine appetisers and horderves. They paled next to the fountain of punch, beautiful chalices available beside it for the easy reach and scoop of thirsty students. Siren's music spun and the students gravitated to the centred dance floor, where the lights tricked rainbows on the extravagant dresses and tuxedos. Many had conjured their outfits, others had spellbound attractions to them, and almost all of the Fae had worn their wings proudly on display.

21:53:46 [lllI] Ensconced in her shared boudoir, without another in sight as she took to a graceful turn, allowing her to inspect in the full-length mirror the full effect of her gown. There was no backless affair, for while there was every possibility she could simply Glamour the perceptions of others, manipulating their minds into seeing past the hideous scores against her peaches and crème flesh, there were those relatively immune to her Gifts. A Fourth year could not expect her guises of Lure to fool a Professor, and there were presumably skilled seniors whom had been attentive in Defence, and educated themselves on a number of ways to ward against such simple Glamour. Champagne was the hue that fit to her petite, curved figure – a bejewelled corset slimming her already enviable waist, intricately woven ribbons fitting it painfully over the slashes gifted her by a whip. Pain is beauty. The girl was determined to bear the pain and discomfort the gown afforded her, a wavering smile attending glossed over lips as she surveyed her appearance in the looking glass. The few markings that had peeped from the coverage of her gown had been expertly disguised with a smattering of make-up application, a credit to her Gift's and expertise with a brush – of any kind, for she was as much a painter as a dancer. With the same delicacy, she had applied a natural enhancement of her features, not an overdone, bawdy flick of the brush in sight. Dainty hands hiked the tulle overleaf of her gown, which swept the floor with a slight train, that had been charmed to house a few dancing butterflies of ember, while she carefully slid her feet into shoes as conjured as the gown. Too was the Masque, which did little to disguise, as it sat in extravagant gold gilt, framing her heart-shaped countenance and ethereal features. Her silken, brunette locks hung about in loose curls and waves, sections pinned here and there. One last self-assuring stare into the mirror and she was from the room, her step limber and graceful even propped so in high stilettos. Her escort, had promised a meeting in the common room, and though she had meandered time away whilst making herself 'presentable' it was still early in the night and they were not too fashionably late. From the girl's dormitory she stepped, emerging quite the beauty as she demurely awaited her escort's attention. A moment of natural confidence faltered, and rose coloured her cheeks as she canted her head and toyed with the tulle skirts of her gown. “Good Evening..” Eyes of Jade peered from within the framed confines of her Masque and she finally met his gaze, observing his own formal dress.

22:11:02 [llll] He cut a handsome figure in his cobalt tuxedo, a simple black Venetian mask sitting over his eyes, guarding his identity in the effortless charm of a man with little interest in a Masquerade. Even with his shock of hair stained with Chameleon's black, he was unmistakable to those who knew him well. He leant languidly against the wall, the clock ticking as he continued to wait on the French beauty he had thought to offer his escort. Hands were stuffed in his pockets, and the reassuring weight of two flasks of alcohol in each inside breast pocket, courtesy of the Black Market stockpile he and his comrades had accumulated. When at last his dame graced the Shifter with her presence, his jaw dropped. At least for an instant before he gathered himself and replaced the uncontrolled reaction with an acceptable smirk and habitually ran his hand through his dark hair. She looked the part. And Christ, she was an angel. “You look beautiful.” His comment was spoken in truth, and in the same second he stepped forward and offered her his hand. Once she took it, he brought her closer and with the lift of his arm, guided her into turning a full circle. “Shall we?” His hand had not relinquished it's grip of her smaller appendage, but brought it to his lips were a chaste kiss was issued to the back of her hand. Unless halted by his date, the two would stroll through the school at a leisurely pace until they turned for the grand staircase which lead down to, and in view of the large, open doors of the Great Hall. The couple were given a reception of stares as they descended, awed whispers and greetings from their closest peers, at least from the students close enough to the doorway to have spotted them. Ever Hex's self-appointed King, he offered a grin and bro-fisted Jed and nodded to a scarlet bedecked Maya as they reached the landing, when his molten dark eyes sought his Masqued date. It seemed that Jed and Maya were waiting for the Shifter, so he took this moment to spontaneously place his large hands at the French girl's minuscule waist, mindful of her punishment yesterday, and lifted her gently until her arms could extend fully with her hands on his shoulders. He paused to watch her, spinning carefully in his step before setting her down once more. “I will be back in a second, Babydoll” Daring to tempt fate, the taller man leant to press a brief kiss to the girl's full lips, before he was departing alongside Jed and Maya the three needing to attend to an important matter before the night drew to a close. His eyes sought the glass fountain of punch and when found, a conspirational nod was shared with both. He glanced around with a comically serious expression, nodded his confirmation of 'clear' and edged his way 'casually' to the fountain with the other two guarding his back. Meanwhile the other members of his retinue of Shifter buds had secured themselves on the other end of the Hall, distracting the chaperones with various antics acceptable enough to keep their attention without having them thrown from the ball. Now free to pull the two flasks of absinthe from his breast pockets, empty their contents into the fruity punch and discard them with a kick beneath the table cloth. Then it was Maya's turn, who pretended to adjust the strap of her heel, instead pulling free another three large flasks of grog that she had strapped carefully to her thighs and another stuffed in the clutch she held. In they went. Jed was last, and it was safe to say they had successfully spiked the punch with more than enough to get any punch lovers in the school bat shit drunk. Some of the other Shifters had backup flasks they would add later but for now they left it as was, disposing of the flasks beneath a banquet table. Knowing the alcohol would be useless on the self regenerative Healer's and Were's, the three of them poured themselves a chalice full of the poison, shared a toast and knocked back the overwhelming, liquorice liquid which overpowered whatever fruit juice it had originally been flavoured with. Jed cringed, Maya spluttered a little but he relished in the burn. Now, where had that date of his gotten to? Typical woman, she was probably fuming because her escort had disappeared within two minutes or less. The young man returned to her side carrying two full chalices of punch. “Thirsty?” His question came with a charming smile, hand extended with the offered drink.

22:19:53 Xarissa How much effort could one girl put, into looking pretty? Blonde hair had been allowed to hang down over her shoulders, kissing the should have been bare flesh that rest there, a slight wave rippling along those nearing white strands. Putting her hair up, was an absolute nuisence. Why was she getting ready, why the hell was she getting herself ready to go to some event? Some even she didn't even want to go to. She had actually thought about it, actually pondered truly going. Then, she did a one eighty. That didn't explain why she sat in the dress. She'd come back to the room, and had instantly tore off the bandages that had been placed on her back. What good were those going to do? Annoy her? Yes. They had, the whole march back to her room. Her hair was stunning, with those little crystal stands thrown through the blonde, to glint when catching the light, then there was her dress. Nothing short of spectacular, was the low back gown of tule and decorated satin. The bodice was form fitting, with a soft display over the bust, that matched the shade of the almost leaflike fabric that fanned out from her waist, to trail down the back of the elegant dress. It gave her a bit more body, this smokey grey, almost golden accented dress. It was coupled with gloves that rode up the length of her arms, but again, what good were they? [http://i47.tinypic.com/2ylsocp.jpg] She was almost tempted to parade in there, red slugs visible. If only her hair was a little longer. In the end, in one dress ruining moment, Xarissa had found the only real pretty garment she had. A small cardigan, made of fine material, that she shrugged on, hiding the flesh of her shoulders and back, yet leaving her fine collarbone, and the soft shadows of youthful cleavage in sight. Without nice shoes, she'd stared so long at her feet, before pulling on a pair of boots, that she knew would be covered in the floor length, glittering tulle. Then there was the mask, with it's soft, swirling designs, and the large flower with its trio of delicate flowers, that gave the whole outfit a pop of colour, [http://i47.tinypic.com/3483dpi.jpg use your imagination, make it match a bit more] that also greatly accented the softer flecks of blue in her painted eyes. Her lips, too, were painted a soft colour, and she left herself at that. All in all, Xarissa was stunning, until you got to the cardigan. However, she stood there, exhaling sharply. She shouldn't go. She didn't want to go. Not anymore. Maybe she should have jumped on the chance to go with Patrick, then maybe, she'd enjoy herself, despite the pain that reminded herself it was there everytime she moved, and even when she didn't. It burned. Her hopes would be that they didn't get rubbed into staining either light garment. Gathering the skirt in her gloved hands, lifting it to reveal the pointed toes of her shoes, Xarissa made her way out, but she didn't follow the rest of the students off to the ball. She had decided, she was not going, all dolled up or not, she refused. No amount of dragging could make her go. Her intentions were to find a place to hide, and stay there til the day to come. What was the point of going, she kept asking herself, time and time again. There was no point. None. How was she suppose to have fun, looking like a damned Barbie doll, straight out of the package? Although, her feet lead her, much to her distaste, closer than she wished to go. Resistant to go any further, she huffed, and stopped on a bottom stair, and fluffed her skirts out, in order to sit, legs crossed. That was as far as she was going. She was going to spend her night looking like she aught to, sitting on damned steps. Sounded good to her. Maybe if she felt as pretty as she would have looked, sans the cardigan, she would have had the balls to walk in.

22:20:55 [HexInstitute] A masked young woman approached the banquet fountain, hers a painted gold contraption that covered the entirety of her face. Her nondescript dark hair hung at a common height, brushing a dress that was not so plain to stand out, not in any form of competition with the extravagance and finery of the vast majority's splendour. From her back lithe digits procured a small flask of her own one that had been carefully and secretly been in the grasp of a number of unknowing students, lacing it with their scent and and memory to protect from Were, Shifter and Seer's alike. It seemed that with distractions on the other end of the ballroom she was given the opportunity to near the fountain, dip the contents of the flask and disappear into the throng of students. Sleight of hand deposited the recently emptied and therefore lightweight receptacle in another's pocket and she was off, her contribution for the night complete. This was no poison she had administered, neither was it alcohol and most importantly, even the Ether-touched with health regenerative compositions were not immune to it's secrets. The duty had occurred only moments before Maya and Jed neared with similarly inappropriate intentions for the Punch. Hers was a powerful elixir, one that was untaught at Hex and for good reason.
22:26:29 [HexInstitute] Note: The Elixir is not poisonous and will not harm your character. It and the alcohol were distributed very subtly. ]

22:29:56 Xan wasn't much concerned that people could tell it was him. There was just no mistaking that frame or his stubbled jaw. He was, of course, wearing a tux. And a mask. His had been made of metal, dragged from the earth and moulded by Luthor himself. The man had actually told him, told him mind you, to get into the spirit of the Masque after handing the damned thing to him. And thus he was wearing it. He'd made his way to the Hall and was moving along the walls. He was watching the students arrive. He was moving toward the doors when Lara came in. Oh he could tell who she was alright. His eyesight was acute enough to pick out the make-up covered edges of her bandage. But not only that, he was very sensitive to body language. And hers should her name to the sky in every little movement. He watched her and and Brax, who he'd trained enough in physical classes to know quite well whether by scent or body language, go on past and stood to one side of the doors with his eyes on the staircase. He turned his head in time to notice the kiss between the fourth year in champagne and the sixth year in black. He looked back to the stairs and saw Xarissa sitting on the steps, and so he moved toward the girl to whom he'd given lashes yesterday afternoon. Re realized that he was probably the last person she'd want to see, but, well, he didn't care, "You should go in. No one knows who you are. You might even have some fun. Wouldn't that be just terrible?" He pointed at the door to the Hall, "Go on. You're all dressed up. Don't let that be for nothing."

22:38:10 Xarissa She didn't hold it against him, she didn't glare at the teacher when he approached her. She just stared, then shook her head, as she dropped her elbows onto her knees, and hands about her neck, ankles crossed to give them a bit more height, so she wasn't bent in two. Though, she didn't stay like that for long, instead, she stood, on the step she'd been sitting on, to make herself a little taller, so she need not crane her neck to look up at the teacher. She hated eye contact, but it was polite to make, and so, she settled her sharply painted eyes upon him, through the soft holes in the delicate mask. "How is it fun, to watch a bunch of people grind and mack on one another in fancy dresses?" It was a legitimate question, no matter how defeated the words were. "I can already tell you, I won't have fun, I know I won't. There is nothing there that interests me. I'd be more interested to sit outside, and drink in fresh air, rather than perfume clogged stuff." Giving up a defeated sigh, Xarissa looked down to the gown clad body that she no longer wanted to see. "I don't even know why I'm dressed up. I don't want to go...I'd feel rude not dressing in things made for me. That'd be why I dressed up, I think." Then ruined it all, with the cardigan that was too white against the soft colours of her dress. "If I go, I'll sit on the stairs, there, too." She'd repeat it one last time. "I really, don't want to go." Unless it were mandatory, and if that were the case, she'd go in, long enough to say she was there, then sashay out. Damned shame that she actually wanted to have fun, for once.

22:51:23 Xan bared his teeth in a small snarl, eyes narrowing at her insistence that she wasn't going in there. He joined her on the step, closing some of the distance between them and staring down at her with hard eyes, "I'll tell you exactly how fun it is. Not at all. But I bloody well don't give a damn how you feel about it. Go in there, make a flaming friend and crack jokes about how stupid the rest of them are for dancing and enjoying themselves. I don't care. But you are going in there. Or would you like another ten lashes to teach you that when I tell you to do something I bloody well mean you to do it?" Oh she knew now that that particular threat was real. He wouldn't hesitate to add to the lashes she'd already earned herself. It might even be a welcome distraction. He pointed at the doors and continued to stare down the female werewolf who knew just how good he was at using a whip. He'd wait all of about three seconds. One.

22:59:22 Xarissa Could he really get mad at her for not wanting to do something she hadn't been told she absolutely had to do? No one had told her she 'had' to go, just that she should. When he joined her on the steps, she let out a slow sigh. "If it's no fun, and you yourself, are saying it's no fun...then why go? I've a feeling you don't want to be there, either." The fact that he was out here, was a good hint, and the fact that he said it wasn't fun, hint two. C'mon, one more. Timidly, she lifted an arm, raising her hand like a good student, who had a question. "Professor..." She started, turning to face him, even stepping up a few steps to be a little more eye level. "I don't ask to be rude, but...why does it matter whether I'm there, or in my room studying? I would be much more comfortable studying, then surrounded with people. I've made a few friends, and...I'm happy with the friends I have." She cast her eyes towards the open doors. "If you wish to whip me for not wanting to be somewhere, that you, yourself don't want to be, then I will willingly remove this ugly cardigan, that has ruined a beautiful dress, and you can have at it." Swallowing hard, Xarissa shook her head, and began towards the door, but stopped when she grew near. She did not want to go. "How long do I have to stay?" She asked, lips thinned, as she turned, and neared the steps again, so he need not shout at her. Hell, conversation out here, she figured, was more exciting than dancing. She couldn't dance, anyway, less you considered the box step, dancing. "I apologize for my tongue."[/b]

23:01:22 Patrick ‘You shouldn’t be smoking in the Bathroom…’ a voice pipped up. Blue eyes looked at the other Arcadian Fae. “Jus’ finish getting’ dressed”. At this point, Patrick stopped trying to hide the Irish accent and was letting it flow out as strong as it normally would. “So. My fellow Fae. Are you ready for Vegas Night?”. One of the other kids looked at him “Is that a reference to one of those shows?”. Patrick nodded. “Patrick. Listen. I have no idea what show you are talking about. More to the point. I am pretty sure you are making this stuff up. I’ll tell you what. When I understand one of your references, I’ll fucking buy a pack of cigarettes”. Overly exaggerated frown on the face of the Fae. “Oooooh. I’ll figure it out. Besides. I’m pretty sure Harry Potter had one of these. As soon as I remember it, I’ll be expecting a pack of the finest cowboy killers, imported straight from the Colonies” there was slight laughter and more talk as the group continued to get themselves ready. Soon, the cigarette was thrown into a toilet and flushed away. The group of Fae would make their way out. Oh yeah, the most intimidating group of Short men you ever will see. Patrick was wearing a black tux, with a black tux, a nice tie, and a cool little green mask. The mask was pretty basic, green gems and feathers. The group would near the entrance, and Pat would spy who he believed to be Xarissa talking to the Coach. “See you in there, Boys” he waved to his Fae companions and walked towards Xarissa and the Coach. “Xarissa! There you are! You know, I tried to figure out just what television show this night reminded me of… and I realized that every bad Teen drama had this stuff. The school formal, where mischief is abound. I do hope you reconsidered my request to experience this façade, with me?” he asked and looked at the Coach. “Sup Coach!”. Of course, he used ‘sup’ as a greeting, rather than a question. Teenagers seemed to do that these days.

23:03:08 lllI offered no resistance when he bid her turn for him, and smiled even as she displayed the full effect of her gown. Butterflies of ember danced and flitted curiously about the train of tulle at her back, never reaching more than a hand's width away from her gown, nor catching it alight. This was no true flame, but mere casted beauty. “Merci, you are quite... 'dapper', yourself.” She winked, and giggled some, an effervescent smile springing to her lush lips when he kissed her hand. There was no ignoring the attention their appearance received when the duo descended, he handsome and confident beyond his domino, and she resplendent in her bejewelled, bewitched gown and uncommon beauty. Envy could be found in the eyes of many of their fellow students. It delighted her to confirm that in only a week of attendance she had climbed to the top of the ranks at Hex, securing her position even when she had tested the acceptance of others by the mindlessness that found and struck her only at the institute. When two of his friends joined them, the femme couldn't help but to excitably greet them with another of her charming grins, even curtsying prettily as she offered them a sweet, “Good Evening.” Before she could dare to incite a conversation, her handsome date had lifted her into the air as though she weighed nought more than a feather. A gasp escaped her plush lips, and she steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders as he spun her gently. What was any young girl to do? She giggled, a becoming flush rising to her cheeks that were somewhat hard to catch beneath the gilt, gold Masque about her heart-shaped countenance. Leaving her already? The brunette had intended to object, and then he had but struck her into oblivion for the moment when his lips brazenly brushed hers. It was the only kiss the man had bestowed upon her and she couldn't help but to let her long eyelashes flutter shut, soft lips not quite returning his kiss, but she offered no resistance. And then he was gone. Drifting away amongst many magnificently dressed students with two of his friends while her dainty hand pressed to her chest, which rose and fell with rushed little breaths. That, had come sooner than she expected. Champagne skirts flowed as she turned, glancing about for certain faces. Her eyes fell longingly on Xarissa and Xander but before she had possessed a moment to intervene and beckon the girl's attendance, her escort had returned to her and offered her a chalice of punch. Aha! Well then, a chivalrous man could not be faulted for fetching his lady a drink, now could he? “Merci.” With the naivety of a sheltered spoiled life and utmost amounts of trust, her dainty hand took up the chalice and brought it to her unaccustomed lips. Then, perhaps if she knew, she may have sipped it anyway. Never having been allowed the pleasure of alcohol (not even the a glass of sparkling at special events) she did not notice the distinct taste of alcohol as it slid through parted lips, but simply cringed for a moment at the sickly sweetness and bitter burn. Not wishing to be rude, she forced a smile at her lips and tipped the cup to fill her mouth with more. Oh, she quite liked that. The punch was an acquired taste, one that she was taking to quite swiftly and she found herself enjoying the burn that warmed her stomach and set a shiver down her spine. “Mmm. Very sweet.” Her tongue caressed her lower lip while her gaze cast once more over the ballroom, melodic laughter sounding before she exclaimed, placing her hand on his forearm “Is that Dryke?!” The plump, butch woman wore the mask of a Jester and a full skirted dress with frills in pink. It made her look all the more frumpy and the color was simply ridiculous on the demon of a woman.

23:14:50 Xan growled, a fairly intimidating sound building from his chest and clawing it's way up his throat like some foul demon from the depths of hell. She was pissing him off quick. His response to her first question came out through his clenched teeth, telling her exactly why she had to be here, "If I have to be here, then so do you little wankers." And then the annoying Fae boy arrived with his higher-than-necessary pitched voice and his clearly unimpressed demeanour. However, he seemed to be acquainted with the werewolf he was intimidating into the Hall. He reached out and clamped his hand on the boy's shoulders, "Perfect. Do me a favor? Take this stubborn girl in there and force her to have some fun, hm? She doesn't realize just how few opportunities for fun you get at this school. Now go." He'd release Patrick's shoulder and point at the door to the Hall and shoo them away.

23:22:54 Xarissa "Put it this way. One less student there, one less reason for you to be there. I'll sit on these stairs, and pretend to argue with you, and then neither of us have to go in there." Foolproof. "Better yet, let's sit outside." If she were intimidated, it hadn't shown. Well, the accent might have gave it away, highly unlikely, but...her tiny stature was a shoe-in for who she was, and the ever calm tones of her voice would have completed it. Have doubts, check her hair and pupils, and you're set to go. She glanced towards Patrick, as he addressed her, sucking in a sharp breath that caused her to crinkle her nose as she let it out. Why couldn't the inside of satin be like the outside? "Hello, Patrick." She flicked her eyes towards him, then back to the teacher who was so damn adamant about her going. He even went as far as to tell the poor fae to make sure she was taken in there, and had some fun. If she was going to have fun, then..she was going to do it, and feel pretty. "Fine." She hissed, and, with that, shrugged off the damned cardigan. "If I'm going in there, I'm going in there, and I'm going to look pretty doing it. Not dolled up, then some ugly piece of unmatching fabric thrown over." That was the only way she was going in there. Honestly, she didn't care how much that lowbacked dress left to be seen, it felt nice to not have things containing the heat of pain. Rather than answering his words, Xarissa stepped over to the equally small man, and slipped her delicate, gloved hand into his own, squeezing just as gently. "I'd love to." There was strain in her voice. She'd hate to go to the ball, but...perhaps going with the fae man would make it tolerable, and save her from being cursed for not going on his count of three. The two probably clashed, when it came to the masks, her with her vibrant blue flower, and him with his green. That didn't matter though, she wasn't superficial enough to think they needed to match. "Let us be off, it is commanded you show me some 'fun.'" With that, she'd bring her other hand, to hook her fingers in the crook of his elbow, for once, standing straight up, rather than slouched, following was a whisper, that involved her standing on her toes, to get so close to his ear, her breath was bound to tickle his hair, "Less you want to stay, he never said how long you have to entertain me. We can make an elaborate story, and be done with it." Then, in much lighter tones, "Just don't ask me to dance...I don't think your toes would survive it."[/b]

23:29:55 lllI 's conversation with her date had been most irritatingly disrupted by the very pink horror that the two had earlier been jesting about. You see what I did there? Because she's a Jester? Yeah? No, whatever. The girl kept herself from scowling rather than to draw the ire of Dryke, but it seemed that her handsome escort was being removed for a short time to assist the woman in helping to move something or other. Why find someone to cast when she could hopefully lure a nice strong boy to ruin his finery, leave his date on her lonesome and perhaps spoil the night for two students instead of only one? Given that she had already emptied her own chalice, the brunette was all too willing to hold his why he begrudgingly moved to do their Professor's bidding. Rather than remaining alone, or hunting down any friends nor members of her 'entourage' that she recognised behind their respective masks, the girl tipped her head back and swallowed a few mouthfuls of punch. Earlier she had been far too busy to bother with lunch, and like most of the young females who had skipped their meal in a last effort to look thinner for the ball, she had gone without. Supper did not yet lure her, for the sweet punch easily sated the burden of hunger. Daringly she sought out a man in a gold and black mask, finishing her second chalice of punch, and settling it on the nearest table before she managed to slip behind him. Rather than stop in her step or daring to speak, her slim fingers danced their way across his back while she continued moving, her scent likely stealing his attention. Did he turn to watch he would see the young woman, her Champagne skirts and the enchantment that spun small dancing butterflies about it's length.

Last Edit: Nov 26, 2012 10:49:16 GMT -5 by Mila

Mila
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Day VII. Masquerade Ball [Saturday Evening] Nov 24, 2012 17:30:48 GMT -5

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Post by Mila on Nov 24, 2012 17:30:48 GMT -5

23:45:01 Patrick : Annoying?! Okay. Sure. But maybe the coach didn’t have a good enough sense of humor. Yeah. That had to be it. Maybe if the coach understood the world like Patrick did, he would see this school for the façade it was! A charade. Pretending to imitate real life. Hiding the sinister reasons they were really all here! The needed to induce a sense of ‘normality’ to calm the nerves of the students. However, when Xan clamped his hand on his small shoulder, it caused him to blink ever so. It was already his intent to do that… but Xan wanted a favor? No. That was part of the vernacular. ‘Do me a favor’ might as well have been an order. It was an order in the guise of a request. The human language was weird. What was worse, that the folk at Hex had become very much taken by it. “Suuure thing Coach” he finally said and looked to Xarissa with a slight smile. She took his hand and they were off! He took a moment to take notice of her outfit. Mostly that they ended up not matching. That didn’t matter, though. “Yes! Let us be off!” he said. “Let’s just see how funny things are. You never know. In Degrassi someone got shot at their prom. In another, someone pulled a knife. I can only hope…” he said and drifted off into his own dream world for a moment. “Dance? I don’t think the pseudo-image of real life is complete without the awkward slow dance followed by the rhythmically challenged grinding…”. Obviously, Patrick would want to stay for just a little bit. Once inside, he looked around. “However… I’m sure the Punch hides all sorts of wonders. If it isn’t spiked or drugged, they are obviously doing it wrong”. Spiked, Patrick could handle. The little fae grew up on whiskey and beer. Drugs could be a different story, however. So, the little Fae would lead his ‘date’ into hall, towards wherever the punch was being served.

00:04:23 Xarissa They could pretend to match. The light shades of her low-backed, leaf-like accented dress probably fit right in with the stark contrast of black. They'd be fine. She looked confused, when he went on about some D-grass-e. What the hell was that? British girl hadn't a clue, and didn't ask. "At least it would provide some sort of entertainment, even if it were a plastic knife." Nervous digits squeezed where they rested, still mentally against coming here. "Then, I shall step on your toes, and I'm sure we're just the perfect height for lewd grinding." She still wasn't sure about this whole thing, but...she could maybe, just maybe, convince herself that it would be ok, for a little while. "Isn't that why they call it punch?" Sweeping after him, keeping a grip upon his arm, almost as though she were scared to let go and end up in another location. Funny, a were taking a fae for some sort of protective shield, or guide. Lead to the punch, she'd release his arm, freeing her hand in order to in order to accept two, handing him one. Lifting her own to her lips, she'd sip, making a face at the flavour. Well, furthermore, she'd take a mouthful, if only to fix the chalky tongue she swore she constantly had some days. Once he had time to taste, she'd tip her head, trying to be the best date that she could, rather than a dead weight, "And does it meet your approval, judge?" Try to have fun. Pretend to have fun. It was a bit easier in company she was finding herself enjoying. Helped that he wasn't a stuck up prude with his head in his own arse. Alright...she'd enjoy it. At least, she'd do her best to try. If nothing else, than for the friend who had been a gentleman enough to ask again, after she had potentially told him no.

00:23:29 Patrick : Is that why they call it punch? Oh! Xarissa had a sense of humor about her! At least she had that going for her. When she handed him the punch he looked at it for a moment. Something seemed off. He took a drink. Yeah. Someone put something in there. He wasn’t sure… buuut it wasn’t all punch, that was for sure. “Yeah. It’ll do” he said in a joking manner, and moved to survey what was going on. “ Yeh likin’ it?” he asked her about the punch as he looked about. Things were pretty much just warming up. All the key players in this farce had yet to arrive. Two people stood out… He could attach their real names to them… but it would be more fun to attach new names to go along with their masks! The Big guy was now going to be referred to as ‘Johnny’. A Degrassi name. And his date would be none other than Ali. The names made sense to him. “In the wild…” he said to her imitating a National Geographic voice “Animals groom themselves in preparation for a night where they do their best to find a suitable mate. It is truly a wild spectacle, indeed”. he told Xarissa that he was here to make jokes… and that is what he was doing, dammit!

01:29:19 Sophelia had been at the ball since the start, though she'd keep rather silent and to herself. Having her identity concealed, as well almost all her tattoos hardly anyone would truly even know she was present; walking among the crowd of other students, she gracefully eavesdropped on various conversations. Nothing ever entertaining or fun, just the usual questions about how each person might be, or who looked the best tonight. Finally deciding to enjoy herself to her fullest, she moved to the punch bowl; eyes scouting out across each of the individuals who were flocked around it, her dress was a little scant compared to some others, though it still covered and supported her frame quite nicely. (http://i47.tinypic.com/2mgl7jr.jpg) The mask adorning her face brought full coverage to her as well, leaving only the imagination and if anyone was lucky, her eyes to distinguish who she might be beneath it. (http://i46.tinypic.com/dzuik4.jpg) Finally reaching the table and able to get herself a glass, she could tell from how some of the others moved and acted that the punch definitely was going to bring a new life to the party. Lifting the glass to the faint opening between the masks lips, she was able to let it slide over the porcelain lips and onto her own. Tasting it, it brought a bitter sweet sensation to her mind as a smirk curled and broke out across her concealed lips. She was quick to finish down the first glass before retrieving another, which lasted even shorter than the first one. Scooping up a third one, she figured she should perhaps let the faint buzzing in her mind linger a bit longer, so she sipped on the third glass, making her way back into the crowd of people who all seemed more content on figuring out who everyone else was. She moved and maneuvered to avoid the dancing area, not exactly wanting to get caught up in some old fashion dance with someone she probably had no care for. Instead, she kept to the outskirts of the groupings, though was still able to see almost everyone if she stood.

01:40:24 lllI wandered back from the bathrooms and allowed her graceful, limber step to carrying her back into the frivolity she had missed only minutes of. A languid smile found itself at her lips and though she was quite missing the date she had grandly entered with, piercing Jade orbs did not seek him out in the crowd. Dyke had all but stolen him for a short while, and if the past six days of sharing a campus with the horrid woman had taught her anything, she would not make the senior's torture short and sweet. The champagne gown drew the eye of others, as did the ornate masque of golden gilt, even if it did obscure the finely crafted features of her heart-shaped face. With the cloud of her first intoxication settling on her distracted shoulders, the petite femme paid no mind no moment into attempting to catch sight of any of her entourage, nor again, of her escort. There were far to many men in black tuxedo's and plain black domino's, too many too count, and too many for her hazy mind to dare attempt to pick each one apart. Instead, the girl gave herself a simple task. Even a little on the tipsy side, her step was sure. It was another student, less drunk and more bumbling full that knocked into her and shoved her into the side of Sophelia. A gasp left plush, strawberry and cream lips and she muttered a French accented, “Bollocks! Watch where you are going, pissant.” This was clearly directed for the boy who was already heading away from the two girls who had collided and luckily, even in stiletto's, kept on their feet.

02:01:25 Sophelia had been minding her own business, and keeping out of trouble...which was a first for her. That was until she was so rudely knocked into, luckily she was able to catch herself before falling completely to the floor, and still manage to keep the glass from spilling all over the floor. Emerald eyes, turned behind the porcelain mask, to look upon Lara who'd come stumbling into her. A frown twisted beneath the mask as she spoke out, "I do hope you're not meaning me when you say 'pissant'." Her arm folded across the other that still held the glass, though soon it was raised to the porcelain lips so that it could pass on to her own. Tipping the glass up entirely, she finished off the drink and finally had a smile hidden behind the mask. Eyes still searching and looking over the woman before her, she grinned as she offered her a hand, " You know you should also be careful, we don't need any of the staff around this vile place catching on to what exactly we are drinking." Eyes now locked on the woman before her, she only ever glanced away for but a split second, scanning the room to see if anyone was either looking at the two of them, or perhaps whispering something deviant and underhanded.

02:21:43 lllI 's brow perked with amusement as the other girl, likely older than her, accused her of calling her a pissant. The beauty shook her head, "Nae, I meant to the other p- boy. The one who knocked me over. Rude of him, do you not agree?" Even so, a smirk had found cupid-bowed lips and she stare at the fully masked girl, wondering if this was a student she had encountered in her short stay at Hex thus far. The girl didn't particularly seem familiar but anything could lurk behind the mask, and Ether-touched were particularly good at shielding their identity. The next comment confused her, for the naive and particularly precious girl was still blissfully ignorant that her own date had tampered with the punch. "Some people are so vile. Did you see what Dyke is wearing? I could swear she stole it from a five year old pageant Queen." Melodic laughter sounded at this, the title 'Dyke' known to be given to one, Professor Dryke of Hex.

02:37:20 Sophelia was rather glad she wasn't the one being called a pissant, it'd be a shame for her to have to smash the face of one of the new students, if it had even come to that. Letting her mind buzz and wander some from the intoxication that was starting to slip through her body, she could only snicker and laugh as the woman spoke about Professor Dryke. "Does that woman ever not ruin something?" Feeling the cruel smirk upon her lips, curl up even more she stared a little more intently at the brown haired beauty before her, "So little miss thing, what year are you? I don't recall your voice or your looks in anyone I've come to know here. So either I've not cared to ever speak with you, or you're new. And my bet is on the latter of the two." She let her arms gracefully fold at across her chest, only posing to lift and bolster the sight of her bosom in her dress. As her eyes lingered about those that were still relatively close to them, she caught the stares some of the guys were giving her, it only brought a faint chuckle to her lips.

02:52:16 lllI grinned at Sophelia's agreement, and shrugged her bare shoulders. “I do not believe so.” There were a number of Chaperone's, some of the Faculty had either been volunteered or nominated to lend their services. Luthor however, was not in attendance. Better things for the Master Seer to tend to, and all that jazz. “Mmmm.” Commented that girl, eyeing one Professor Blaze as he returned to the Hall and passed them by, “He is handsome.” Though he wore a mask, it was a simply affair and his large form was easily spotted, particularly by his manner that commanded obedience of his students, not to mention that he was taking the time to growl at various students for this and that. “I wonder if he and Professor Weir..” The girl thought aloud, putting both of the most attractive, younger teacher's together as many of the student's minds had dared but then, Sophelia was distracting her with chit-chat. It was unlikely that Soph' could pick apart the voices of over a thousand students that were housed in the reformation boarding school, and so the French girl rolled her shoulders, purposely deflecting the revelation of her identity. Why? Because she chose to. This was a Masquerade, and she would guard her anonymity until it pleased her to do otherwise. “Lower than you I presume. We have met, but I must say my Masque has done wonders to fool you, no?” Back to a more interesting subject, the girl leant forward affording many a glance down the low cut of her corseted bodice in order to have a peek at a particularly handsome Professor. “I wonder if he's single..”

03:08:50 Jesline grunted softly as she struggled to get her corset laced up. Unfortunately the girl had been left behind, and since she hadn't been aware of this Masquerade, Jes would be arriving late. Some might considerate fashionable, but Jes thought it to be rude and quite embarrassing. Finally, nimble digits finished tying of the ribbon holding the bodice together tightly. The satin gown gracing her lovely figure was a pale blue colour that flattered her gloriously blue hues. Intricate, silver swirls decorated the bottom half of her dress and shimmered softly when the dress was in motion. Fair, delicate shoulders were left bare, save for the dab of glitter smattered on the flesh. Though most fae chose to flaunt their beautiful wings, Jes had decided against doing so herself. Golden tresses were pinned up loosely, allowing curled locks to fall freely, and a silver chain adorned her elegant neck, the sapphire pendant resting at the hollow of her throat. Make-up was essential but a smidge had been applied, just enough to enhance her striking features. Beneath the skirts of her dress, lean legs were sheathed in sheer stockings and petite feet were strapped into silver heels. With one final glance in her vanity mirror, Jesline took a deep gulp of air and meandered toward the ball.

03:22:45 Sophelia eyes glancing towards Professor Blaze, she actually ducked her head off to the side, avoiding any eye contact with the man. So maybe she had some history with some of the faculty in her various years, some good some bad, all in the past now. Noticing the woman next to her had seemed to show some interest in the professor, she grunted and shook her head, "You're too young for him...or any of the others, don't make a foolish mistake." What's this? Sophelia being nice and giving advice?! What had over come her!! When the woman spoke once more about her year and how they'd met before, it caused Soph to huff and frown some, "Oh I'm sure I could figure you out if I so willed it." Taking Lara by the hand, willingly or not, she began to move through the small crowds and head back to the punch bowl, "I need another drink, and you're going to provide company to me tonight. At least until your little date shows up again, or whatever." Forging her way straight to the punch, the moment she reached it she picked up two glasses, handing one over to Lara and immediately downing the other within a few seconds. A sound of satisifaction drifted off her lips and past the mask as she closed her eyes and savored the sensation the drink brought her.

03:40:04 lllI muttered something along the lines of, “If she has curfew before 12AM,” as every student did, other than tonight, “she's too young for you bro.” The statement was finished with a hiccup, courtesy of the frivolous amounts of absinthe and sweetened punch she had already consumed. “Mmm I'm sure you could.” It wouldn't be hard. In six short days, this particular girl had taken Hex by storm. She was popular enough to have incited an attraction from one of the most wanted senior's, even at her lowly newbie and fourth year status. Then, he had been publicly reprimanded, the recipient of lashes and the student to find Charlemagne Quinn's body, hers was indeed a name that was on everybody's lips. Her hand stolen by Sophelias, the brunette followed after her newest acquaintance, or perhaps an older one, in the direction of that delicious little punch fountain. Yes, another drink would suit her nicely. “I do not think he is too old.” The comment left her lips in a delayed reaction, one spoken perhaps to herself or rather in defence of her own, now troubled thoughts. “You say that like you have never thought of it.” Girls pined after Professor Blaze, at least those fortunate enough to avoid any punishments he dealt. Her dainty hand picked up the suggested chalice, topped it up with punch, and tipped the liquid down her throat. Mm. Her escort would be pleased to know the alcohol was having the desired affect on the female population of Hex, loosening their tongues, morals and skirts. It only added to their amusement that they would have an alcohol fuelled party, and then there was the fact that many of the grunts were already turning a little green behind their juvenile masks.

03:59:37 Sophelia tipped the glass at her lips, letting the volatile concoction run past her lips and down her throat as she glanced a sharp gaze towards the rather deviant one beside her. Eyes looking across the crowded room, until her eyes fell upon Professor Blaze; staring at him in a rather determined look, she'd finally look back at Lara, "He really isn't that old....just not someone to get mixed up with." Words of experience? Perhaps. She wasn't exactly a saint, and if anyone was ever priviledged to see her both without clothing and a means of hiding her tattoos and scars, they'd see why. Letting out a rather disappointed sigh, she drowned her seemingly present regret in more spiked punch; setting the empty glass down, she picked up a fresh one and knocked it back quickly and let out a groan as a cold chill coursed her spine. Feeling the absinthe taking its effect on her body and mind, she shifted in place some before feeling a smile of pleasure curl on her lips. She was pretty buzzed, even tipsy perhaps, and she knew if she drank any more she'd definitely show her true colors. "So little miss thing, aren't you in the least worried about your date, or was it a pity date?" She didn't know who Lara had come with, so she just assumed it was some lesser year guy who was just more courageous than the others.

Mila
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Day VII. Masquerade Ball [Saturday Evening] Nov 25, 2012 7:18:42 GMT -5

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Post by Mila on Nov 25, 2012 7:18:42 GMT -5

13:06:54 Chase` was late. He'd been held up in Herbology class because his professor wanted his assistance with a crop of plants that hadn't been taking to the soil properly. He was a marvel with plants. And having been here since he was fourteen years old made him obedient. He was probably the best behaved student since Hex had started. Call him a suck up, or a brown noser, or a boot licker. Call it whatever you want, but the truth of it was he'd made peace with his lot. He'd taken lashings in the beginning, when he had been fighting to go home, back to his parents. But once he had reconciled himself with this place, it had been smooth sailing. His abilities had progressed faster than he could have imagined with proper teachers. But now he was finishing up with getting dressed, standing before a mirror and straightening his silver tie. He had on a black tux, with a silver tie and vest with a metallic eye mask. He'd made it himself, though the raw metal had been procured from Luthor. Chase wasn't quite proficient enough to go seeing metal in the ground, but he had learned, through trial and a lot of error how to mold metal to his desire. He placed the mask upon his face, turned sideways, checking himself over, and then heading out of the bathroom and toward the Great Hall. He tucked his left hand in his pocket, bunching his jacket on the left side as he headed down the stairs. He whistled as he moved downward and, as he reached the second to last step, he hopped into the air, jumping the last step. He did a heelclicker in midair before landing on the floor. He headed into the Hall to see the party in full swing and made a mental note to stay away from the punch. Knowing his fellow students as he did, it was a safe bet that it was spiked pretty powerfully. But he'd probably end up drinking it anyways. He danced better when he was drunk.

13:09:08 VI paced within the small confines of her dorm room, where was she, the same thought was muttered over and over as she continued to walk back and forth across the room while her room mates looked at her both amused and also slightly annoyed. Leila had been rambling and muttering about some or other siren for the last half hour and had long since been deemed AWOL as she refused to get ready for the impending ball, her gown and mask remained untouched as they were still laid out on her bed. It had been her great idea to have come up with a theme and then Sophelia had been crazy enough to think that it could work, so here she was panicking more than just a little bit as the somewhat off centre Arcadian was nowhere to be seen. This was over an hour go and by then her room mates had left, leaving the Were alone though still somewhat reluctant to get dressed, sighing suddenly she peered over at the garment that she had chosen, “I guess I should get done...” It took another long moment of pacing before Leila pulled herself together enough to get into a shower, yes, the Werewolf had even forgone this in hopes of waiting for her partner in crime and so with a resigned sigh she entered the dorm bathroom. Cursing quietly she hurried to return to her dorm room, the quick shower had taken up a good few minutes of her time as she lazily soaked up the warmth before remembering to get done and in turn she would then quickly finish up to return to her dorm. Sparing another glance at her dress the Were took a deep breath, alright... let’s do this, the thought remained at the forefront of her mind as she hesitantly removed the pale coloured garment from its bag, Her fingertips trailing over the simple design before unzipping it and carefully putting it on. It was a simple floor length gown with a Grecian cut that fit like a glove, with her shoulders bare she opted to wear her hair down leaving it to loosely frame her face as it curled slightly thanks to her delayed shower. Opting to forego the pain of wearing heels she ended up leaving the Magnus dorms without any shoes, smiling at her small bout of rebelliousness she continued into the main school building passage pausing only to adjust the mask that hid her identity. [e]

13:36:51 Jesline collected the skirts of her dress in her hands as she meandered into the Great hall, a small, awe-struck smile gracing her succulent lips vaguely. Never had she attended something so cordial. Sure the gal had had her fair share of luxurious gatherings, but those all appeared lacklustre in comparison to this. That lovely smile of hers broadened as she descended the carpeted stairs, eyes aglow with wonder. The room was teeming with students held anonymous by their fancy attire and delicate masks. The light caught the intricate silver swirls inscribed on the blue mask, causing it to shimmer softly. Although her mask didn't provide full coverage, it did the job. Plus, with her being new and all most students wouldn't know who she was with or without the mask. Weaving her way through the plethora of students, Jes searched for an area she could stand, most likely by herself. A few sets of eyes watched her as she moved on by, and some males whispered to one another. Tonight would hopefully be a fresh start, and perhaps friends would be made. Upon finding an area located near the tables decorated with platters of delicacies, Jes placed her hands in front of her and watched the students enjoy themselves.

14:19:44 Chase` 's entrance was no big deal. Mostly because without his eye area he looked different. Very different. However, his warm, chestnut eyes would be familiar enough to anyone who wasn't new. After all, he'd been here long enough to have spoken at least a few times to anyone who wasn't new. He stopped this person or that and said hello. He was asked why he didn't have some pretty oyung thing on his arm and he always gave the same answer. He used the fingers of his right hand to unbutton the single button he'd done up on his jacket and pulled it aside. That revealed the silver vest more fully but, more importantly, it showed the somewhat corroded metal chain that reached from one vest pocket to the other. He tugged on the chain and drew out a battered old pocketwatch with engraving on the cap. He pressed the button to release the latch and checked the face of the watch in his right palm before he snapped it shut and tucked it away again. He came to a stop at the table that was scattered with fingerfoods. He stood next to a girl in a blue mask with silver swirls and he spoke as he looked at the table, as if searching it for something, "No date, hm? Good choice. I always like to come to this little shindig stag. And I always tell freshmen not to worry about showing up alone. The exciting thing about a Masquerade is that everyone's anonymous, and for those lacking in courage, it's a delightful opportunity to ask a beautiful girl, or in your case a handsome boy, for a dance without anyone ever knowing it was really you." He reached down onto a silver platter, picked up something that had to be held together with a toothpick thrust through it. He put it in his mouth and drew out the toothpick without the food. He glanced over at the girl and tossed the toothpick into the trash beside the table. Once he'd swallowed the food he smiled at the girl, "Enjoy the mystery." Then he turned and walked off into the crowd.

14:27:41 [VI] Making an entrance was never part of the plan but thanks to some major delays (most of which were her own fault) she finally reached the now empty passage leading into the Great Hall and she silently sent a small thanks up there for having missed her chance to grab the room’s attention, taking another deep breath she continued her way before sparing a quick glance over her shoulder and smiling as she watched the trail of blossoms slowly fade away behind her. The idea was a simple one and thanks to a rather devious siren it had worked out brilliantly, the mismatched pair had given their costumes a theme and in doing so each one dressed accordingly. Sophelia had managed to charm her way into getting some mages to help with both the gowns and the spells needed to complete the effect and in turn she chose to take on the role of the Greek Goddess, Aphrodite. While the more bookish of the pair happily took on the role of Persephone, hence the trail of flowers and scents of Spring that followed after her. That being said Aphrodite was nowhere in sight and that gave rise to a small bout of panic, biting at her lip nervously she suddenly found herself wondering if this whole thing was a good idea at all. But after a quiet moment she pushed the thought away taking a deep breath before repeating that self same mantra from before, “Let’s do this...” and so with a determined smile the bare footed Were made her way into the Hall. The sight before her took her by surprise and she quickly found herself rather grateful for the crowd that was already by the looks of things too distracted to notice her arrival, the Hall looked incredible and the growing smile that tugged at her lips revealed her approval of it all, “Wow...” Hazel eyes swept over the detail as she warily made her way down the stairs toward the rest of the students that filled the Ballroom, catching sight of the silver vested male jumping down the last step she grinned lifting her skirts revealing her bare feet along with the beginnings of another trail of flowers that blossomed after each step she took before fading after a moment. Skipping down the last few steps the young Werewolf finally joined the crowd, taking care not to enter as she remained near the outskirts slowly making her way toward the tables nearby where Jesline had taken a seat and as such she noticed that her quiet entrance hadn’t gone unnoticed at all as she watched several sets of heads turn to watch her. Blushing at the turn of heads she dropped her gaze and continued toward the tables leaving her almost blind to what was in front of her resulting in her bumping into the silver masked male she had noticed on the stairs earlier, “I uh... I am so sorry.” stumbling over her words she nervously apologised staring at him wide-eyed before attempting to reach the relative safety of the tables behind him. [e]

14:34:03 IIll returned from his sequestered moment, one that had thieved him from the side of the masked beauty, and into the service of the Professor. Revelling in restored freedom, he took a moment to sweep his keen eye over the ballroom and all the students, when he located the form in champagne. Gravitating toward the fountain of tampered punch, no less. Smirking, the young man heightened his pace now that he had found a destination, only to slow as he made a great play of coming up behind her unawares. One strong forearm slipped across her waist, pressing her back against his chest in a grip both iron-forced and gentle, to mind the broken skin beneath her gown. His palm slid across her middle, then taking ownership of her smaller hand, he spun her out slowly to face him. “Miss me?” Regardless of her response, his eyes were searching hers, molten and chameleon dark. “I think it's time we had a dance.” And so it was. Early in the night still, but he had barely spent a moment with his escort. A damned shame too, for in his opinion she trumped the rest in beauty? Why else would he have asked her? The girl conquered his mind, for this week, at least. Guiding her to the dance floor he, he lead her in the choreographed dance that the others had began to step into. They circled each other a moment, head turned toward their partner, right hands pressed flat. One way, then the next.

14:48:24 lllI lingered by the banquet tables, in the company of one Aphrodite with a dress that was a little 'flash', if you asked the French femme. She was particularly fascinated by a round cut-out that revealed bare flesh beneath and though it may have appeared a little odd, she leant forward to prod at the skin with her poised index finger. Bewildered, she intended to continue their discussion about the most attractive men at Hex, when suddenly, speaking of the devil himself a man came up behind her and slid his arm about her slim waist. A gasp escaped her, heightening to a minute yelp as she was pulled against the stranger's broad chest but when he dared speak and turn her about in his arms, the intoxicated girl could but grin into the maker of her poison. “Terribly.” Came her confession, a hand pressed to her chest in earnest. “So it is.” Once guided, the girl's elegant step fell into chime with his own in a great flurry of Champagne skirts, with conjured butterflies of ember dancing down it's length in the most whimsical way. Many stared as the handsome couple passed by. From the safety of her gilt, golden masque did her eyes peer, jade orbs piercing even in the haze of absinthe flavoured intoxication. A Masquerade was quite the place to be when drunk, no? So many hidden faces spiralling about her, no. No, that was not them. That was her. She was being turned in a dance and though not quite herself, she managed to execute the steps with the prowess of a born Siren. After turning one way to continue the 'walk' about her partner, she dropped into a glamorous curtsy, her brunette head bowed before he retrieved both her hands in one of his.

14:48:38 Jesline had been too lost in thought to notice the male stroll up to the table near. But when he spoke, her blue hues latched onto him. Behind her mask a blonde eyebrow quirked, and inside her chest her heart grew elated. Company? As he spoke, she nodded. But before her a reply could come to her lips, he was gone. Her heart sunk in disappointment. Well, perhaps she'd see him again. Sighing inaudibly, she gingerly grabs a glass of punch and takes a sip of the drink. Immediately her taste buds detect the alchohol mixed in the beverage. Crinkling her nose in distaste, Jes tosses the punch out. Those cool, observational orbs of hers slid back to the dance floor.

14:49:54 [Trix] It was the night of all nights. The Masquerade Ball and Trix was within her room getting ready. Her hair was left long, the blond strands subtle in how they flowed over her shoulders, tiny curls and wisps of light that were representative of just how the woman truly was. Dainty in her height, yet strong in other manners, she cut a surprising figure out of the school uniform and in the dress she’d chosen for the evening. Chiffon flowed from her upper torso in a ray of slender, soft and delicate as it breezed in layered delight down her back toward her ankles, though the front was short leaving those oh so slender legs visual to the eye. The color of the dress matched the deep set color of her hues, deep pools of blue that caught the light with the gleam of mischief behind them. She felt pretty. She felt grown up and Trix felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time - excited. There was something to be said about Cinderella going to the ball, and Trix most certainly felt that a fairy Godmother had whipped together the outfit. Of course it had been a hex that designed the dress, outfitted by her own imagination in what she through truly suited her body the most. Not the tallest of girl’s she had opted for short in the front, long in the back, with golden sparkles for shoes and matching colored earrings to fit the bill. She wore barely any makeup, not one to get her face plastered with guck, preferring a more natural element to her stature, save a kiss of lipstick that allowed the ruby red tears to stand out on her sun kissed complexion. Glancing in the mirror, she liked what she saw, finding herself to truly be amazed at how she looked, surprised at the difference from her usual school uniform that was worn every day. ( i49.tinypic.com/rc7j0m.jpg) And that was the exciting part everyone was going to be dressed up. Hidden behind the masks they wore, and so beautiful together in a setting that was going to be glorious. Trix could hardly wait to attend.

15:01:59 Thayer` It was a rarity of the most peculiar sort to see Thayer wandering the halls, especially swathed in clothes which may be deemed socially orthodox. Despite the abnormalities of the situation, he had actually managed to put together an ensemble which wouldn't easily stand out, something designed to blend effortlessly into the throngs of people he would soon join. Though his body type was ill-suited for such a lack of preconception, he had managed to find a decently tailored black suit. It was a rather unassuming guise, made even less so by the commonplace black tie knotted about his neck. The masque he wore was equally as simple, matte black and cut in a simple shape, just large enough so that it met the general standards and obscured his features. Although he was probably incredibly late for the masquerade, he didn't appear to be in any sort of hurry. In fact, if one saw him walking as he did now down the hallway, they might be at perfect liberty to assume that he was taking his sweet ass time. In fact, nothing about him suggested a sense of urgency. The slight olive-toned hue of his complexion alleged long hours spent outside, perhaps while shirking other more relevant responsibilities. The unprofessional and thoroughly unkempt lay of his dark hair spoke volumes, as though he couldn't be bothered with attempting to make it look less like he'd just rolled out of bed. Even his pale gray eyes, visible just beyond the black masque, advocated a sense of cool apathy and amusement. Not at all in any rush to reach the Great Hall, he moved along the corridor with languid steps, singing to himself as he peeled away small chunks of apple with an extended claw. "Well, they're building a gallows outside my cell, and I've got .. twenty-five minutes to go .. And the whole town's waitin' just to hear me yell, I've got .. twenty-four minutes to go." His voice was dark, resonating from somewhere deep within his chest, made somewhat haunting by the emptiness of the hallway and the resonating echos. Despite all the nuisances and irritations of civilized society, there was one thing that Thayer could never begrudge the world; Johnny Cash. If anything good or decent had come of him being dumped onto the lap of society, it will have been that man's music. The Great Hall loomed into view, the sounds and scents of people becoming more and more potent with every step he took. [e]

15:03:06 Chase` staggered half a step as the girl in the pale gown bumped into him. A girl he'd seen as he entered the hall. She gave a halting apology and he grinned easily, incredibly good natured about the little accident, "Don't trouble yourself about it. Unless of course you just picked my pocket. Then I'm going to have to come and find you." His eyelid dropped and lifted in a heartbeat, flashing her a quick wink before he let her reach the tables behind him. He moved around the room, almost like one of the chaperones, looking for features he recognized. No doubt Brax was in there somewhere with whatever girl he'd chosen this year, as well as Jed. He moved to the fountain that was most definitely spiked and he found himself pouring a glass and lifting it to his nose to waft the scent into his nostrils. He took a little sip and a shudder ran down his spine. Oh yeah. Definitely spiked. But he took a slightly larger sip anyway, sliding his free left hand once again into his left pants pocket as he moved toward the door. He liked to get a glimpse of girls as they were entering. Most usually paused to take in the Great Hall's decorations and that gave him ample time to enjoy his favorite Masquerade game of Guess Who.

15:14:04 Mila was no late arrival, merely a seated presence at a table. One slim leg was crossed over the other, bare limbs visible through a well-placed slit in her flowing, floor-length gown. It was a deep navy that flattered her honey complexion and small stature. [http://i.imgur.com/Xczqm.jpg ] Heels of silver graced her finely formed feet, the one that hung mid-air tapping an inconsequential beat with boredom. She was not to be presumed a lone wolf, there were friends to be had, but they were all off busily gathering more delicacies, dancing, or visiting the powder room. Something or other, and nothing that had willed Mila to attend them. Her smoke gaze was focused primarily on the stained silver nails of her left hand. It was too mainstream for the girl to have worn a mask so instead, shavings of a metallic substance in silver were collaged in the shape of a domino, making her feel quite the super hero, sans the spandex leotard. Thin silver chains were woven in her length of unreasonably long dark hair and Voila, Mila had herself an outfit. Thinking herself a trifle parched she rose and weaved through the mob surrounding the popular punch. Asking no one in particular, “Is it spiked?" while she scooped some of the murky liquid into a chalice for yours truly. One little swill then it was in her mouth and yes, why yes it was.

15:16:42 Leila blushed and then grinned at the masked male’s response to her terrible attempt of an apology, “Oh...” trailing off at the wink she smiled once more, “...I guess you’ll have to check them then.” Shrugging a shoulder she too continued on her way easily stepping past him before happily claiming a seat for herself, not being very good with crowds and as such she wasn’t very keen on entering the fray just yet, preferring to people watch instead. She would remain on the outskirts of the crowds as they all seemed to effortlessly glide across the floor. Barely hiding the scowl of envy she narrowed her eyes before turning away and double checking that her mask remained in place, it was secured with a simple white ribbon that held it up and also a bit of magic just in case. To say that she had two left feet was a bit of an understatement, though graced with Were abilities she was not at all a fan of these dances and as such she was still quite surprised that she had shown up at all since her dancing skills remained rather basic if anything. Another errant thought led to her wondering about Soph’s whereabouts, she hadn’t seen the siren since they had completed working on their gowns the day before and now she was nowhere to be seen but that didn’t stop her from keeping an eye out for her. Turning to Jesline a couple seat down she leaned forward before enquiring whether the blue-masked student had seen who she was looking for, “Hey uh... sorry to disturb you, but have you seen an Aphrodite at all?” not at all aware of the absurdity of her question the Were remained rather straight faced as she waited for the other’s response, regardless of the fact some of the other students may have heard her small bout of randomness. [e]

15:29:47 [Trix] The Mask she donned was of the same coloring of her shoes, her earrings and the dress so that she matched entirely together in an array of aqua, with the hint of gold. The gold itself offset her strands of her hair, whilst eyes did that of the dress so that all in all she fit as a perfect package and Trix knew she looked pretty. Most of the bookworm was face down in a book, or studying in some manner or other, but today the woman would be on the town, out of her element but there was no fear. Only happiness that she got to go to the ball. A Ball. The Ball. Her stomach did flutter however at the thought of on Basilio - her date for the evening. She wondered if he’d find her dress pretty, as most girls would wonder such things. They would be meeting soon enough but she had some time to kill. They were to meet outside the Great Hall, which gave her ample time to make her way toward the festivities. When finally happy with everything how she looked, her hair, her face, she placed upon the aqua-gold mask over her features, then soon exited her room. The corridors were long - gave her more than enough time to think things through, even do a few practise steps of a dance for Trix had never gone to a dance before. She wasn’t sure -how- to dance. Not with a date like couples would do. This is what made her more nervous than anything else. Her steps were light as she managed to walk with heels - which gave her an additional height to her small five three stature. Hips swayed delicately with her walk, the dress matching the flow of her walk, gathering around those shapely legs as she motioned through the halls, the Great Hall off in the distance, but already she could hear the music flowing, the sounds echoing through the open spaces. It sounded fun - delightful even to her small frame that swayed in time to the beat as she came to a stop just across from the Hall. It was here she was to wait for her date. Hopefully she’d not get stood up - it would leave her feeling embarrassed to say the least. For now though, all she could do was wait, and visually watch those who pass her by to enter into the hall.

15:40:30 Chase` spent the next few minutes matching up girls with names, remembering what they were wearing for future reference. This game spanned two days. Tonight he'd guess which girl was wearing what, and then tomorrow he'd spend all his time flirting and trying to figure out who had been wearing wearing. The more guesses were correct, the more points you got. His firends, whenever they were, would also be playing this game. He usually won. Checking out girls was one of his major areas of study at Hex. But once he'd stuffed his brain full of descriptions of females he'd realize his glass was a little on the empty side and he headed back to the fountain to refill. There he saw the girl in the navy blue dress with the metallic shavings pieced into the simulacrum of a domino. He sipped from his glass and leaned toward her, "I like the mask. Very inventive of you." He'd turn toward the dancing mass and then look back at the girl, "Care to dance with a handsome stranger?" He figured he had enough liquor in him to make him an expert.

16:07:14 Mila was exchanging a few words with another student when Chase approached on the sly. Her features were exotic, a diminutive smile edging at her lips while she too leant closer, wishing to tell this man apart from the others. It remained a cryptic task, commencing her sixth year at Hex offering her no advantage on the guess. “Thank you.” There was no reason to quip that he seemed familiar, certain that she knew his voice, and the structure of his face, at least the lower portion that was uncovered to the naked eye. They were all familiar. Impossible, wasn't it? To roam a boarding school, if even for a week, and not have seen all the damned souls cloistered in it's confinement at least once? “What can I say?” Quite the Jester, sans the appropriate mask, “I'm an inventive kind of girl.” However innocent or nonsensical her statement, it was delivered with a suggestive and comedic tone, even bawdy wink of her eye. Quite the charming aristocrat, the Seer considered him above the edge of her chalice while she took a length swallow of the sickly dew. “I would.” Gasping, she played about looking around her. “Where is he? Does he really wish to dance with m- Oh, you were lying then. In that case, I figure we could dance.. in the absence of a 'handsome' stranger?” A good natured smile and playful statement removed any hint of insult for her otherwise unkind refusal and already she was expecting that he grant her this dance, for she was already setting her chalice back on the table and slipping her hand forwardly into his. Mila was not a blushing lone wolf, and with the guise of a masked face? There was no limit to her daring this night.

16:16:09 VI helped herself to some of the cocktail foods but made sure to steer clear of the watering holes, having been to one of these soirees before she knew that they were all no doubt spiked by something or other that would result in a nightmare of a migraine the next morning. Sighing softly she peered over at the rest of the tables spread out near the one she and the azure-masked female occupied, it seemed like there were more than a few like minded people who were not inclined to dance and that small fact made her smile. Again hazel eyes swept over the students this time stopping once or twice when she recognized someone before scanning the rest of the still growing crowd, though she still waited for Jesline’s reply her attention was quickly becoming divided as she began to wonder about her date. A small frown was hidden behind the slightly metallic mask as her thoughts were redirected to Christian, where is he, she quietly mused while her foot tapped in time to the music that resonated within the decorated Hall. Too distracted by her thoughts she only vaguely noticed the arrival of several more students as they entered the Ball, sighing once again she leaned over the table before resting her chin in the palm of her hand and resumed her watch for both Aprodite as well as her date. [e]

21:30:19 IIll 's molten gaze dropped in the same moment her body did, granting himself a stare down her corset, while she pledged that she missed him 'terribly' during his absence. That suited him fine. He led her through the first and the next set, the series of dances surprisingly executed well for one referred only to as a 'jock', and a girl who had enjoyed a little too much absinthe during the night. Speaking of, he didn't want his date ill with dehydration, did he? Not at all. Ever the gentleman he removed himself from her side after guiding her to the edge of the floor, “I'll get us some punch. Wait here.” Almost as crowded as the floor with it's spinning couples, there was quite the number of punch-enthusiast's milling around the fountain and a number of them were already drunk. He gave one grunt a hearty pat on the back that almost knocked the red eyed kid over, and chuckled before bro-fisting Jed who was conveniently at the watering hole, too. The masked young man may have disengaged from his lady longer than intended but he would be back, and attentive as ever in a handful of minutes. Or two. Let the girl have a few minutes space to find her friends and gush about her dashing escort, eh?

Last Edit: Nov 26, 2012 11:02:55 GMT -5 by Mila

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Day VII. Masquerade Ball [Saturday Evening] Nov 26, 2012 8:53:24 GMT -5

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Post by Mila on Nov 26, 2012 8:53:24 GMT -5

11:53:13 [Emri] A two tone outfit announced Emri's arrival, though it was nothing shy of underwhelming in terms of an entrance. Black and white offset one another throughout the jacketless tuxedo that he donned, the latter of which would likely never be wore that night. Instead, his long-sleeved white button-up was covered by just a thin black vest. Covering the already dark hues of his eyes was a simple, black domino mask; but it wouldn't take much to guess the student if you already knew him. It was clear he didn't care much for the formalities of the ball. It was only a matter of time before that mask, too, found a home on the ground amongst the soles of the attendees. Shifting his way through the crowds, he'd casually peruse the grounds of the ball, eventually setting his destination to the farthest-most wall from where he had entered to get him a sip of the punch. As both assumed and therein shortly figured out, it would be enough of a pinch to get him through the next few minutes.

12:10:22 Mila seemed to have lost Chase in the crowd and before long, while taking sips of the Punch she noticed that wings and Chameleon effects began to disperse. The students still looked magnificent but there was definitely something odd going on, perhaps a result of the alcohol? The girl in navy made her way to Emri, either not taking a moment to look closer in an attempt to recognise him, or simply being unable to pick his face – doubtful, as she'd been a student at Hex going on six years now. “You think it's Jager or Sambuca?” She asked him, clearly referring to the fruit punch that now tasted a lot like licorice and fire. Confident behind the masque of metallic shavings in silver, she continued to force the at least, temporarily anti-social student into a conversation that revolved around punch. What of it? “I'ma bet it was the Shifters. Or maybe those fifth year elementals, they seem like the type. Think Dryke will catch 'em?” Of all Professor's to notice the tampering, hunt down the culprit and punish them, Dryke would have to be the most likely suspect. Knowing that she was innocent, Mila was looking forward to the dramatics on the morrow. “Bet you a ten they'll get the lash.”

12:23:40 [Emri] He heard her voice, but hadn't turned by then. Instead, a second helping was scooped out, and he allowed the moment to pass over them as he brought the cup back to his lips. " Sambuca, I'm guessing, " he'd muse casually, finally turning himself to face the silver mask. Metal shavings. Clever, and effective. Or maybe those fifth-year elementals. Emri let out a little laugh, and shook his head as he took to leaning back against the table, " I heard it was some second-year that managed to get in. Who knows. " His voice cooed out whimsically. " But I bet they won't get caught. Twenty, " he'd retort almost absentmindedly. His eyes had already began to wander over Mila with a forwardness he didn't seem to care about letting know. If these girls were getting dressed up, the fifth-year was going to look, dammit. " When does this shindig end? " he questioned her as though it was a conversation they'd had before. There was a child hiding within his tone; while entertaining, dances clearly weren't this student's thing.

12:24:46 [August`] Late? No, no. She wasn't late. She tried to sleep through the damned masquerade ball. She had no date, unlike many others who would be arriving and taking photographs with their special someone. She, however, had decided to hide under her blankets. That is, until her best friend Hayley decided to come bounding up the stairs and demand that she get up, put on her dress and come downstairs. It ended up happening just that way. Hayley did her make-up. Her hair. The dress had been bought ages ago when Hayley went through a catalogue. The mask? Also Hayley's idea. Sometimes she wondered where she would be without the girl, who was now pulling her along through the crowd to the venue for the ball. Perfect. She was sure many people wouldn't recognize her. Why? Not because there was a mask on her face, but because she never wore so much make-up, or did her hair this way. She really didn't look like herself at all. So moving through the dancing teenagers with Hayley, who was dragging her towards a small group of friends, she nearly whined aloud. "Hayley, just... Let me get punch, please? Before I pass out." Hayley gasped. "Shush! Don't say my name! But fine. Go, and hurry back, because if you don't, I'll come find you, girl. You know I'm awful good at that!" Merely nodding, August would move away from the group, heading towards the punch table as she'd said before. Putting some in a cup, the little mermaid brought it to her lips, though before taking a sip, she frowned, smelling the liquid before immediately disposing of it into the garbage can. "... Teenagers these days just..." Shaking her head, she moved for some water instead, putting some ice in a cup followed by the water. This smelled just fine, so she drank some, merely leaning against the table as she looked up at some of those who passed her. Some did a double take, not having seen her around before. Or so they thought. But no one tried to talk to her. Yet. August peeked over when she heard a couple others talking about the punch itself. Eyes narrowing, she stood at the opposite side of the table, soft hair laying down her back as she pursed her lips, zoning out now as she watched people dance. ||E||

12:42:48 Mila swilled a mouthful of the stuff in her mouth as if considering his opinion. “I'm going to say Jager, just so we can disagree.” It would be fair to say that the Seer was on the wrong side of the term 'tipsy' but she had the forethought to eat a little something and pace herself. Masked or not, she wasn't going to be that girl, who was falling around like trash come midnight. “Second year? Puhlease, as if they would dare.” As if those kids even knew how to get a hold of the 'Black Market' of Hex. Her brow rose, and with a smirk spreading across full, painted lips she brought the chalice in her hand to 'clink' against his as if in a toast. “Deal. You're going to be twenty down come morning. And I better know who you are before then, so you can deliver.” So apparently she was a number of things; Serious about betting, actually curious about his true identity (and oblivious however simple his mask) and allowing him leave to remain disguised for at least most of the night. Typical male behaviour. Hated the ball, only came for the chance of booze and tail. “Not yet.” The girl vaguely noticed another girl by the punch, but as she didn't take the time to involve herself in conversation, Mila only gave outfit a stare or two before her attention diverted back to Emri. “Ugh. I hate this band.” Siren's. Playing on perception's to seem perfect but they were just too... mainstream? Dare she say it? Don't get her wrong, Mila wasn't a raging Ariel with glasses, but the amount of girls that squealed over this particular band could be compared to those that revered the ground One Direction walked on, those these 'rockers' were older and less.. well. Bieber. Whatever. She didn't like them.

12:50:35 Chase` had lost track of the girl in the navy blue dress and the creative mask. The shiny, buffed surface of his metallic mask reflected the soft lights in the hall as he reached again into his right vest pocket. The silver cloth parted as his hand slipped in and withdrew the battered pocketwatch. He took a moment to admire the work engraving on the surface. Back when it was new you could see every last detail of it. On the cap was a jagged, now smoothed, cliff face that came to a point. On the edge of the cliff there was a mighty oak, reaching for the sky, its roots tangled and showing lower on the cliff face. It was a symbol for his family. They were Earth Mages. They had always been Earth Mages. His reverie was broken by a drunk young man bumping into him. He closed his hand around the watch and steadied the boy, making sure he was alright before sending him on his way. His warm, chestnut gaze moved around the room once before checking the time again. This party was supposed to end by midnight, and he didn't doubt that it would, what with Professor Dryke, gaudy as she was, eyeing them all. He turned, shifting his weight, the light playing off his mask and turning it into a shining white, and his gaze fell upon a girl who was foregoing the punch. His brow arched and he began to move, his polished shoes taking him toward her. He sidled up to her as she began drinking her water. He gave her a crooked smile, "Not enjoying the punch, hm? It's a shame, you know. Someone went through all the effort of spiking it and then you refuse it's promised reward of levity for the evening." He slid his family heirloom slowly back into the pocket from whence it came without taking his eyes from the girl. It was somewhat exhilarating, this ball. It's the only reason he came. You never truly knew who you were talking to. The self appointed King of the school might have conversed with the shy girl. The Queen might dance with the nerd who never had the courage to open his mouth and speak to her.

12:55:06 [Emri] " But it's a masquerade! " he'd suddenly, exaggeratingly speak out, stepping out from the table and throwing his hands into the air in a grand gesture. " Not knowing identities is the entire point of the ordeal. To see if you're in love with the nerd, if you have more in common with your enemy than your best friend, and to fall for the man whose identity you'll never know. " Emri had made sure to place his drink at the table before he had stepped away from Mila; with empty hands, he turned back to her and extended them both to her. It was obvious that satire was one of his stronger traits, yet there he was, arms still extended, offering her to pull her away from the liquor. " Let's dance, " he commanded smoothly. " You can't hate a band you're dancing to - especially if you're having fun. " Did he have a point? Somewhat. But he doubted she would refuse him either way, because was that not what they were all there for, when it got down to it? To drink, talk, socialize, dance, enjoy the night. Should she accept his hands, Emri would whisk her away and onto the dance floor, managing between the throngs of couples and groups of students before nestling comfortably, arbitrarily among them.

12:59:21 [August`] As time had gone on, she drifted away from the table slightly with a few steps, away from those on the opposite side. You couldn't hear anything they were saying anymore, and as she continued drinking her water, the soft pink dress hugging a slender waist and then falling to the floor, she heard a male beside her before she had seen him. Indigo colored eyes peered up towards him, as she only stood at five feet anyhow. Holding the glass, she couldn't help but to smile sheepishly at his words, dimples appearing on her cheeks as she thought to herself quietly. Canting her head to the side and back a bit so that she could see his mask-covered face, she nodded slightly. "Well, some of us, of course, don't abide by those social rules." Perking up a brow under her own mask, her heart shaped face was easily seen. Though, it was most likely that he wouldn't recognize her from the way she was made up nicely tonight by her lovely friend Hayley. Her eyes peeked towards the item he held in his hand, which was now being slid into his pocket. She didn't ask him. Holding the cup to her lips now she would take another sip, appraising him and not bothering to conceal the fact that she actually looked over him. She didn't know who he was. This was a pain, really. Because you might never find these people again. Unless, of course, you tell them who you are. The mermaid pursed thin pink lips, painted in a soft pink that nearly matched her dress though was, in fact, a few shades darker. "I don't suppose you followed the rules?" Raising her brows at the mystery man, she would look to the dance floor, where a man might have just snagged a female to dance with him. She wasn't much of a dancer. She wasn't much of a social gal' either, to say the least. ||E||

13:04:28 Mila laughed at his satire, even pressing her hands together in a half clap, or an act similar in appearance though performed with a chalice in her hand. “A Masquerade! How could I forget? Forgive me Sir, let us return to the err... play? And forget my true folly. I will crosseth my fingers and hope, yes hope, that beneath that mask you are....” Her eyes drifted closed a moment, playing at wishing. “Professor Weir.” Mm. What a delight, that would be! When he convinced her to a dance she set down her chalice and pressed her hand to her forehead, all swooning damsel and replied breathily with a bat of her long, dark eyelashes. “I thought you would never ask.” All joking aside, a small part of her did want a dance of this masked peer. Why else would she have harassed him for a conversation? She placed her hands in his, found herself whisked onto the floor and somehow, drifting into a dance that she very much enjoyed, band and all. Almond shaped eyes of smoke narrowed from within the painted mask, still unable to let up on her curiosity. She took him for an upperclassmen, he was simply too tall and deep of voice to pass for anyone beneath fourth year.

13:18:35 Chase` couldn't help it when he let slip a soft chuckle at her words, telling him that she didn't follow the 'social rules' he had apparently just described. And when her eyes swpet over him, a move that was probably bold on her part, for she might never have done it without the anonimity the Masque provided. But he gave her the chance to enjoy her boldness fully. He took hold of his jacket and opened it for her, turning this way and that slightly, letting her see him in all his finery. And then he turned in a slow circle so that she could take in all of him. When he finished he was grinning at her, "Of course I followed them. Someone put real effort into providing alcohol for the rest of us. It would simply be rude to forego at least a little bit." He reached up and ran his fingers through his gleaming hair. It was still damp and his black curls stretched beneath his hand. He'd always been glad that he hadn't inherited his father's hair, which only grew out, and not down. He felt the inner warmth that meant the liquor was doing it's job, and his mind was a little fuzzy around the edges. He turned his head to one side to catch a glimps of a navy dress being whisked into the crowd before he turned once again to the anonymous girl in the pink dress, "Let me as you this. If you were hosting a party of some kind, say a housewarming or maybe a New Year's party. And you went to the trouble of putting out snacks and things for your guests, but, when they all left or were passed out on your floor, not one thing had been touched. How would that make you feel?"

13:21:26 Trix stood beyond the Great Hall, in the narrowed hallway prior to the grand entrance of the Ball. Her body clad in the stunning aqua gown that flowed around her body in a natural form. The subtle chiffon that was layered, adding a delightful contrast to her sun-kissed flesh, matching the hues of blue of almond shape that mirrored the excitement she felt within. Hair was long, curled in subtle motions that wisped around her oval face, while rose-red lips defined the smile of the moment that exalted her presence of being at the Ball. Awaiting her date, she remained uniform in place, listening to the sounds of music that flowed deliciously from the Hall, the song and undertones of the band pulsating with common tunes which filled the area. People walked past her on a regular basis, some eyed her questioningly, wondering who the woman in aqua was, curious as to who hid behind the aqua and gold mask, just as she was as curious as to their own nature. The mystery of it all added an elusive presence to the woman, her form near perfect from the dress design and overly feminine in her curves as she stood her ground. Professors on occasion walked in unison, moving into and out of the Hall with the throngs of well dressed students who were gasping at the decorations that lay ahead. Trix had yet to peer into the Hall, but while she waited she decided to do just that. Edging toward the door, she would stand beyond the entrance and peer into the highly decorated area. Gone was the long tables of their dining room, exchanged into a fantastical delight of whimsy and light, an inviting pulse that drew one in. Trix couldn’t believe what she was seeing as the smile upon her face curved into an even larger grin, teeth of white shining through as lips parted in bated breath. Such was a dream she may have had at one point, of lush dressings and elegant décor, so in contrast with the Institute on the whole, the meaning of the school quickly forgotten in those moments as she peered.

13:23:38 [Emri] A hearty laugh escaped him as she finally accepted his offer to the dance floor. Sooner rather than later, the two of them fell into a soft lullful dance. Emri, neither the most experienced nor technically graceful, was content in his ability to hold her close and sway with the rhythm that played through the song. " Let's start with a few hints, then, " he'd whisper into her ear. It was as if he knew what was on her mind. Perhaps it was simply because he, too, was fighting the curiosity of knowing who she was. " What can you... do? " It was a simple question, but held with it a weight of narrowing her down among the students that were currently at the ball. Among his year, Emri was fairly aware of who was who - the big names, the casuals, the losers; they were all something, and he knew of them all. A year up or down, and his knowledge is immediately impaired, though there are always the exceptions. " Don't make it too easy, though. We don't want to ruin the experience of the night. " As he waited for her answer, Emri continued to lightly rock about within their proclaimed circle among the floor, one hand boldly placed along the low of her back while the other gently coddled her own, not quite squeezing, but ensuring her that he would be in control of their successive movements.

13:27:56 [August`] Her cheeks flamed when he began to model for her, and she laughed aloud, the fingers of her other hand rising to her lips. When she realized she was giggling at his hilarious spectacle, she rolled her eyes, smiling at him. "You know, I think that just made my night. I can go back to sleep now." Teasing him, she nodded, hearing his words with a shrug. "Well to each our own opinion, my dear." Raising her glass of water towards him, she took another sip. His hair was nice, and her own hair laid over her shoulders to frame her face. Eyes peeked towards the punch bowl, pursing her lips again. Seeing him look after the girl in the navy dress, she almost asked him about it, but decided against it as he went on to give her an example. Searching his eyes beneath that mask, she nibbled at the inside of her cheek, her brows rose. "Well, rather horrible, but here is the difference. This situation is quite... Opposite that. If I put on this... New Year's party, aye? And someone came in to replace what I have put out because it simply wasn't good enough... Well, what then, Sir? Who sounds like the bad guy?" Taking a step closer to him, she took a nice gulp of the water, her dark blue eyes staring up at him. "Besides, I'm not one to drink alcohol in this kind of setting anyway. I don't trust people." Her cheekbones chiseled and defined in this odd, dim lighting, she kept her head cocked to the side as she looked up at him still. Finishing her water, she would toss it into the garbage can a few strides away before returning to the guy's side. "Now, I don't suppose you're telling people who you are tonight?" She perked up a brow. "A name, even. Not the class." She shrugged, because boy, was she curious. But really, she didn't want to give her identity away, because as soon as she did she was sure to be ignored. ||E||

13:35:16 Mila 's humour seemed to dim when he pulled her into a soft, swaying dance. With her 'mask' so, it was hard to see the pretty stain that came to her cheeks but it was there, and she found herself a little unaccustomed to being so close, even after so many Masquerade's yet. Slim arms that reached up about his neck and pulled her smaller body tight to his experted their touch upon him. Fingertips grazed the material of his shirt, while she opened her mind to a divine vision. Beckoned to reveal what she could 'do', the girl tried again and faltered, a pout of confusion coming to her heart-shaped countenance. From behind his neck one hand skimmed down, fingertips drawing their touch like the brush of a feather and stopping only above his heart. Mila felt for something. Assaulted by not even a flicker of color, whimsical eyes darted between his chest and his eye. Her hand rose and touched him again, gently. “I can..” Touch and dreams were the best for her, but she could read in other ways. He might find her few prods of his chest a little odd but giving up and feeling a mite bit confused for her Ether had never failed her, not when she had skilled in it's use. Forcing herself to relax she slid her hold to it's usual position and raised, even in her heels, onto her tiptoes so she could whisper easily in his ear. “I...spy, with my little eye... something beginning with?” She didn't finish, figuring her hint tell-tale enough, Mila gave him time to respond with his own confession.

13:44:09 Chase` rolled his eyes exaggeratedly when she mentioned going back to sleep, "Oh come now! There's a party going on! No one should sleep when the majority of people are busy having fun." He looked thoughtful as she sought to use his own very logical argument against him. He tilted his head slightly, lips pursed. His hands slid back the open front of his jacket so he could place his hands on his hips. And then it hit him! A perfect counter argument! He grinned down at her, "Aha! I've got you now. You see, the person who spiked the punch did not replace anything! They only. . . added a little seasoning to give it an exotic flavor! The same scenario applies. Do you still feel horrible?" He remembered that she had asked him a question and it came floating to the front of his mind, "Now now, that's not the point of a Masque. If you know who you're talking to, you might be inclined to destroy regular social boundaries on the 'morrow. And we wouldn't want that, now would we?" He grinned, but then he rethought his approach and spoke again, "I'll tell you what, though. Find the person sporting this. . ." He tugging upon the chain that crossed from his left vest pocket to his right. Once again his pocketwatch slid from the silver material and he showed her the distinctively, if worn, engraved cap. He'd let her examine it, to make sure she could spot it come morning, before slipping it back into his pocket, "You find that and you find me. Sound like a deal?" He winked deliberately, the lid of his right eye drooped closed slowly, covering his warm eye for the space of three heartbeat before rising again.

13:50:14 [Emri] Her little mannerisms were odd at first, and required a brief moment of concentrative watching. What he couldn't see her doing, he could feel. Her feminine touch was a refreshing familiar against his body. During this brief display of a power he assumed was only visible to her own eyes, Emri had let up on his closed embrace, head canted down at an angle, catching her face and hands inbetween one another, gaze constantly shifting about. To help her to his ear, he leaned down, likely having guessed at what the minute prodding was hinting at. " 'E', " he'd calmly answer. His name, while leagues more distinct than something as his race or year, was in itself ambiguous enough that should she have heard of it, he'd still be nothing more than a mystery. What was a name if she couldn't place it to a person? " If only I could express myself as... safely as you have, " he'd yearnfully, playfully whine out, his words laced with dramatics as per usual. Emri threw his head back and stepped, pulling Mila along with him into a brief spin, stepping in circle to essentially exchange places on the floor. A quick flash before he was back to prodding about, even more wondering with whom he was currently sharing the night. " Then how do you see this night ending? This dance? "

13:55:44 [August`] Laughing, she shook her head, offering the same stance as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I give that to you." Pursing her lips up to him, her brows rose at his words. "Well, well, that would just be horrendous, wouldn't it? All of the classes getting along for once." Chuckling, she nodded towards him. Her eyes flickered to the chain, seeing the pocketwatch, the cap engraved with peculiar little drawings. "Interesting, really..." Her fingers reached slightly, though she would retract them, clasping her fingers together before her as she peered back up at him. Curiosity... It could burn someone. "That sounds like quite the deal, Sir. Unfortunately, I don't have a trinket with me. But my hair and the eyes? They aren't exactly common around here. A soft red/brown and dark blue. The combination was certainly an odd one. <B> "I don't think you'll have to look too hard." Thinking a moment, she looked back towards him. "That is, if you'll even look at all." Laughing, she shook her head, offering the same stance as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I give that to you." Pursing her lips up to him, her brows rose at his words. "Well, well, that would just be horrendous, wouldn't it? All of the classes getting along for once." Chuckling, she nodded towards him. Her eyes flickered to the chain, seeing the pocketwatch, the cap engraved with peculiar little drawings. "Interesting, really..." Her fingers reached slightly, though she would retract them, clasping her fingers together before her as she peered back up at him. Curiosity... It could burn someone. "That sounds like quite the deal, Sir. Unfortunately, I don't have a trinket with me. But my hair and the eyes? They aren't exactly common around here." A soft red/brown and dark blue. The combination was certainly an odd one. "I don't think you'll have to look too hard." Thinking a moment, she looked back towards him. "That is, if you'll even look at all." Grinning slightly, she'd never really gotten this kind of attention before. Sure, she had spoken to many people, but somehow, she thought she might have found interest in his voice. But only time would tell, eh? "So what's a fine gentleman like you doing over here at the punch table without a gal' on your arm?" It was a legitimate question, he seemed good looking unless that mask covered something terrible. She doubted it, somehow. Fingers lifted her dress slightly, stepping a bit to shift her weight from one leg to another, fingers still holding the sides of her long dress a bit, her olive complexion almost glittering in the dim lighting. ||E||

13:57:44 [Trix] Ever curious, the petite Fae would be lost in a dream for the moment she stared into the Great Hall before reluctantly pulling back, moving away slowly in slight steps to make her way back toward the wall of the Hallway. Leaning against the arched window, she peered outward from within her mask, catching sight of those outside. The area on the whole was active with people, though Trix found herself oddly alone. Not that it was strange however, for the bookworm was ever of by herself, doing things on her own. Whilst she was social, it wasn’t a favourite time of hers, where as reading the latest book or text for class was utterly idealistic for the woman. This evening would stand to test that ground however as she waited idly for Basilio to make his appearance. Though the thought occurred to her as the cool glass of the window pressed against the bare skin of her back, that she may not know her date even when he did arrive. Trix would be dressed accordingly just as she would. What if they had missed each other already - though they had deigned to meet within the hall way where she stood. It hadn’t been a thought previously but now in the light, with all the masked faces, it dawned on her that they may have gotten mixed up. And whilst she waited he could already be inside, dancing and enjoying himself without her. It was a mixed emotion that presented itself to the woman as she tapped her lip in thought with her index finger of her right hand. The nail in a dainty fashion pressed upon the rose-red tier. What if? The question was one that certainly required to be answered, though she knew intricately that from voice alone she’d guess at the person. Everyone may look different. Have dressed substantially so, but their voice remained the same. A good judge of character and a musical ear would allow her the ability to figure out who was who (most likely) from those she knew. As long as she spoke to anyone who approached her it could be confirmed just who her date was. But where was he? If not here, he was most certainly taking his time. Perhaps he had changed his mind? Perhaps his intention was to never show? To leave Trix standing alone, isolated and solitary in this very fashion while laughing at her from beyond? Doubt began to creep in. Followed by fear - a feeling not common to the woman at all who bravely would stand against most. The what if’s continuing to play in her mind.

14:06:35 Mila smirked as he played the mysterious stranger, giving her naught so much as a letter and not a hint of what it stood for. His name? Or was he an Elemental? Both, even? “If only.” She whispered in false, serious woe, “If only it were possible for us to meet without our masks but we could not dare.. they would find out! It would only mean our ruin. We must keep this secret forever more.” The expression on her exotic features was earnest, painting her as quite the little actress and one as fond of play and satire as he though her false emotions were spoiled when he dared to spinning her, and eliciting a bout of soft laugher. “I see our destiny.. in your hands, Lord E. I am but a puppet in your hands.” With a bawdy wink, the grinning femme lost herself for a few moments in the intricate steps of their dance and it occurred to her then, that perhaps he was right? A Masquerade Ball could indeed bring an unlikely duo to a temporary couple and she wondered whether he was indeed an an awkward fellow, or a jock who might see past her peculiar beauty and average manner. ”Tell me how it will end.”

14:23:48 [Emri] Their laughs were synced together as they were pulled back into one another. " In my hands... " he'd repeat to neither of them in particular, simply recalling it. " It will, " he began suddenly, eyes drawn up in genuine thought. " Continue on like so. We will dance, joke, and enjoy the company of one another. " He drew his gaze back down to her, nodding in affirmation, smirking. " But then the song will end. One of us will be drawn away for a reason or another, and all we'll have from this night are but the briefest of hints we gave one another. You, a seer of the night, and me, nothing but Lord E, " His proclaimed title brought about a quick laugh. " Then school will resume, we'll continue with our classes, and only if we can connect the pieces will we be able to find each other. Sad, really, given the possibility of us never even meeting again! " he'd woefully exclaim. If possible, a tear would've rolled down his cheek, but such emulations weren't within his grasp. Instead, just as the song was to end, he'd whisk her around in one last, controlled spin of his right hand, and reel her back in for a brief dip. It was then, exposed to his liking, that Emri would attempt a kiss on the lips of the unknown girl; shortly thereafter he was gone, slipping away from her with a playful wave, fingers waggling, returning her wink from moments ago.

20:06:57 Chase` shook his body a little, as if a shudder had just run it's way down his back, "My God, it would be a terrible. The worst thing to ever happen to this place, without a doubt." His mask of disgust, seen only in those chestnut eyes and on the lower half of his face couldn't hold for long, however, and he broke into a grin. A laugh slipped from between his lips at the girl's words, "Perhaps not. However, I always look for the girls I speak to at the Masque. Part of a game, you see. You take a guess at who's wearing what, and then tomorrow, you run around like a chick with it's head cut off trying to coax girls into telling you what they were wearing. Plus, it's always fun to see who is naturally shy but came out of their cucoon to be the life of the party." He tilted his head a little, black, slightly curly hair forimg a curtain between the back of his head and his shoulder, "Now what use might a date be in this situation? This party is always an opportunity. Everyone is anonymous. No one knows just who you are. You might just be talking to the most popular boy in the school. Or I could be the nerdy kid no one notices. And you could be the girl who pelted me with crumpled up paper balls in History the other day. No one knows each other here unless you arranged a date. But the mystery, to me, is the fun part about this dance. If I brought a date, there is no mystery, and therefore no fun."

20:18:39 [August`] Her brows furrowed a bit, arms crossing over her chest as a chuckle bubbled part her lips. Shaking her head, she shrugged. "You know, I don't understand this silly class discrimination. Frankly, it makes no sense to me." Pursing her lips, she looked back at him, hearing that he would look for her. She shrugged, wondering if he would be disappointed if he were to find out that it was she. If he was pleased, perhaps a friendship - or a relationship, if the gal' was lucky - might stem from the ball. If he wasn't, though, embarrassment would be the only manifestation of the ball that rested in their minds. No good memories would remain. Looking over at him. "Well, a girl always loves a date. She loves to be held by her prince charming, and all that jazz, right?" She thought a moment, merely shrugging as he would continue to speak. Her dainty fingers finding the table behind her, she leaned back a bit, her indigo hues gazing up at him as she thought to herself. "So you're that mystery kind of guy? I thought it was the girls that were supposed to be into that. What, with the mystery men stories and all that. They're always saying, 'Oh, he has to be mysterious... So sexy.'" Nodding to herself, she thought about what she'd just said, laughter erupting as she figured she'd made a fool out of herself. But who cares! That was what was so fabulous about this little shindig. He didn't even know who she was, and so... That gave her all the more freedom. ||E||

20:32:17 Kimber` :::Music. Floaty and ethereal, the sound was almost tangible. Kimber wanted to reach out and touch it; caress and hold it in her fingers like a lover. Yet such was impossible, and she was left only to sway gently, eyes closed in rapture, as she listened. Gentle, melodic, indie. The music made her feel warm, as if she were basking in the sun, loose and languid limbed. It took her out of orbit, out of reality; carried her away with subtle drum beats, like a beating heart. Oh how she concentrated on the beat, submitted herself to falling out of touch, and into the rhythm of her music; It made ignoring the sounds of the Masquerade easier. Sadly, even standing outside The Great Hall, the noise level generated by the event was enough to surpass the music coming from Kimber's ear-bud headphones. Her white headphones and ipod looked very out of place when worn against an elegant golden mask, adorned with crimson feathers, and a gothic-styled Victorian dress, colored in earthy tones of brown and gold. Both the dress and the mask had been worn upon her mother's suggestion. Attending the masquerade at all had been her mother's suggestion, in fact. The flighty shifter wouldn't have bothered with such an event if she wasn't such a mommy's girl. Kimber hated to say no to her mother, who was cordial and loving, and hated even more to disappoint her. Her mother, a social butterfly and lover of social events, had been so excited when Kimber mentioned the ball; she said it would be an excellent opportunity to make some new friends, and break out of her shell. The shifter hadn't had the heart to tell her mom she didn't plan to attend. However, when the expensive dress and mask showed up in her mail, along with a letter from her mother wishing her wonderful time, Kimber subjected herself to the fact that she was going to have to go to the damn masquerade, if only to make her mommy happy. It just wasn't her scene; she'd rather be sitting in a tree reading a book, than cooped up in a too-warm room filled with busy, fragrant bodies. Crowds tended to intimidate her. She had spent maybe 10 minutes in actual attendance of the Masquerade, trying to enjoy the music while people watching with her hawk eyes. But her dress was too constricting of her movements, and the fabric felt foreign on her skin. Her peers were too loud in their celebration for her sensitive ears, and her desire to dance was inexistent. Thus Kimber found herself in the hallway, trying to imagine herself somewhere else. Perhaps later she would work up the nerve to slip back inside, but for now she needed a minute to breathe.:::

20:46:05 Chase` arched a brow behind that shiny mask of his, tilting his head slightly, his black hair falling onto his shoulder again, "Without class discrimination, how would we tell people apart? How would we know who to blame things on? It would be utter chaos!' He grinned, winking at her again. He looked thoughtful once more as she spoke about girls loving dates and he nodded, "That is quite true. Girls do love that sort of thing. And, to be quite honest, if I had a girlfriend I probably would have brought her along. I do like to make my girlfriends happy as much as I can." He held up a hand to forestall comment on that last statement, "And no, I don't mean girlfriends as in I have multiple girlfriends at once. I would hate to leave you with the idea that I'm a chauvanistic prick who dates multiple girls at once." He grinned and turned to look at the dance floor, his chestnut eyes wandering over the masked faces, the active bodies. A sudden question popped into his mind and he leaned toward the girl without taking his warm eyes from the crowd, "How many do you think will sneak away to have anonymous sex?" It was the kind of question that, when contemplated, wanted to make him cackle in glee. When some of these drunk young boys and girls staggered their way from the hall, he was sure most would be in full on make out mode. And, from the get-go, even had every teacher been here, no one could have prevented them all from finding a secluded place to get it on. His question pertained to how many she thought wouldn't take their masks off when they did it.

20:50:35 Brax was licking this wounds made when he found that he could find his little date at all. Maya claimed she'd seen her leave with him, but being one of many taller guys in a tailored black tuxedo and plain domino, it was clear that Lara had left with another young man. He was no longer so anonymous has he had begun, [being one of the many IIII's] for his chameleon's dark hair and eyes had reverted to the tawny shock that was undeniably Braxton Kennedy, and molten amber orbs. At this present time he had danced his way through a number of masked girls in the absence of the beauty he preferred, had himself a glass or two of cleverly spiked punch and then he and his friends, had come up with an idea to preserve their safety and identity from the faculty. Those discarded flasks beneath the banquet? Brax stood guard 'casually' while Maya ducked down to retrieve them. Each of the boys, about a dozen in total, took one or two and stuffed them in their inner breast pockets. Did it end there? Not quite. Brax began their proposed idea by taking his, striding for the nearest drunk grunt, and stuffing it down the kid's shirt. The others followed suit, down the shirts, pants, in their hands and some smeared the scent and touch of a bunch of kids over their flask before it was disposed of throughout the room, or left with some kid. How to trick a Shifter or Were, 101. “Good job men. And if we don't make it... we die.” His hand thumped his chest, his voice growing wobbly with false tears, “We die with honour.”

20:58:49 [August`] Rolling her eyes at his justification about the class discrimination, if she had known him she would have given him a gentle shove. But she didn't, looking up at him, and chuckling at his reasoning. "Of course! You would never have more than one girl at a time. You are simply too good for that, ah?" Smiling at him, she followed his gaze to the dance floor, dark blue eyes seeing a few males running around, and interacting with some other men whilst carrying something in their hands. She paid them no mind, all too preoccupied with the mysterious man beside her. Yes, oh so mysterious! As he leaned towards her, dimples appeared on her cheeks and she leaned back towards him so that their shoulders nearly brushed. "Too many to count?" She offered, and at the question, she began to giggle. Looking out at the crowd, she pointed a few couples out, who were slurring to each other and leaning against each other in obnoxious chatter and laughter. They were heading for the door, and she looked over towards him, laughing aloud as she nodded. "Yes, way too many to count!" Biting her lower lip, she nodded at him, just imagining the hordes of couples and the moans that must be heard between the rooms. "See, you could be one of those people; however, I have only had a glass of water. I can't help you with some drunk fun." Chuckling some more she shook her head, wondering how many girls he might have chatted up or danced with that night. A good looking, and obviously smooth guy, he wouldn't have had it too difficult. And the girls seemed to outnumber the guys, so they could surely cover more ground. ||E||

21:16:59 Chase` chuckled, the sound rolling smoothly from between his lips as he slid his hands into his pockets. Her response made him shake his head slowly, "Undoubtedly. It's a shame really. With their masks on it makes it impossible to dart between rooms and surprise them with a camera flash. If they didn't have their masks on, it'd be useful for blackmail." He wondered if that would surprise her. That a smooth, handsome guy like him was blackmailing people? Well, everyone has to have a vice. His, apparently, was blackmail. He rolled his eyes at her commenting upon the fact that he could be headed off to an empty classroom, or some dark closet, to have anonymous sex, "No thank you. Sex, to me, is personal. If I don't know who I'm undressing, it just becomes worthless. Like exercise. I'd just be doing it to keep my edge. Totally not fun." No doubt this girl would be searching for him most assiduously tomorrow morning. His views on these kinds of things would catch the facy of just about any girl, but he wasn't easy to capture. A elusive prey, this Earth Mage.

21:25:22 [August`] Her brows rising a bit, she slowly stepped away from him, but remained leaning back on the table as she looked over at him. A snicker was heard as she shook her head, "And here I thought you were nearly flawless. Blackmail? What an interesting hobby. I'd love to hear more about how you got into it, but somehow I think it might be too graphic for my innocent ears." She smirked up at him, and pursed her lips at his commentary on sex. It was funny, how they could talk about something so serious with such casualty, but it was certainly a unique situation, this Masquerade Ball. "Sex should be personal, but you're about the only guy I know who would pass up on an offer to claim any semi-good looking gal' as yours in bed for the night." She shrugged. Her words were true. Looking around, it was getting late, and they were beginning to play those slower songs to sort of wrap up the dance. Sure, they still had a little while to go, but those songs and the slow dancing taking place on the floor was a clear sign. "This shindig is almost over, huh?" She peeked over to him. ||E||

Hex Institute

Day VII. Masquerade Ball [Saturday Evening]

Post by Mila on Nov 24, 2012 0:45:24 GMT -5

Post by Mila on Nov 24, 2012 17:30:48 GMT -5

Post by Mila on Nov 25, 2012 7:18:42 GMT -5

Post by Mila on Nov 26, 2012 8:53:24 GMT -5

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