Fantasy The Masquerade

[TxTiger]

​

 

[TxTiger]

Gray gazed the ceiling, her eyes were thinking by themselves. Rotten memories, forgot thoughts. The clock said 7 o'clock and a loud trill broke the streaming of her memories. She got up and sat on her bed, her eyes sought the most important thing of her room. When she found it, she put down her feet on the floor and reached a little wooden puppet that sat quietly on the desk. Gray took it in her hands caressing the smooth painted face.


"We have to go, Pierre" the wooden marionette gazed at the girl with its painted eyes. Its smile said much. She nodded.


After a quick shower, she changed her clothes in something more...formal for the event. Skirts didn't fit her preference, so she choose her beloved black and red suit (without the cape); the Masquerade has a rigid rule: "Don't put daily clothes. Always in something that fits the Masquerade" Gray snorted as she reminded the voice of her father. Too much traditional for her.


She looked around. The room was illuminated only by the lamp on the bedside table, next to her bed. The light reached her white mask too, hanging on a shelf; she shook her head and took the mask. When she put the mask on her face, a shiver crossed her back.


"What the...? Ah, maybe its the cold"


She tied the last shoelace, and with Pierre in the pocket, she headed to the main square were the event had already started.

 

[Kaera]

Alexis woke and ran a hand through her untamed hair. "It's today.." She mumbled to herself, slipping from her bed and heading straight to her wardrobe. "I'll make you proud ma" Alexis opened the doors of her wardrobe and rummaged for the right outfit until she found it. Her choice was that of a medieval bard, just a bit more formal. It didn't quite match her mask but she didn't mind. Instead, Alexis donned her outfit (without the high boots, she wears these instead) and then ran a brush through her hair before curling it and putting it into a ponytail, which she tucked underneath her hat. This was her chance to both pretend to be someone she's not and have nobody know, as well as carry her clarinet round in public - after all, a bard plays music. On her way out of the door, now fully dressed, Alexis grabbed her clarinet case and quickly checked she had her reed, spare reeds, and cork grease before finally leaving her house and locking the door.

 

[Pompeii]

The moment he woke up, Anthony could already feel that today wouldn't be normal, yes the chill creeping through his spine tells him so- this day would be very different indeed. He sat up and left his fancy canopy bed, he didn't even fixed the sheets or anything. What's the point of fixing the bed? Sooner or later he'd be back again and the sheets will just get ruined and his efforts of setting it up would just be futile. After taking a bath, Anthony found himself staring at his own reflection on a mirror, he ran his hand through his pale blonde lockes before styling it sidewards; the usual. He glared at his ownself before his eyes rested on the outfit hanging on the side of his wall and the mask he is supposed to wear for the grand masquerade.


He approached the said items, caressing it afterwards gently as if the fabric would be shredded into tiny pieces if ever he'd been so rough with it. "Masquerade huh?" he mumbled to himself as he wondered what would happen and why does he feel something....unusual about today. Anthony then suit himself up with the outfit before grabbing the skull-designed mask and going back to his mirror to check if he looks okay- and then he put the mask on. Right at that very moment the quiet guy felt something....stranger. He felt like something just began and he is yet to find out what it is.


"...Am I overthinking things again?" he shook his head slightly and he made his way out of the large house in which only he lives.

Spoiler

 

[Tiny Dancer]

A light groan came from underneath a tattered hand stitched quilt that hid a sleeping beauty from the world. Well, she wasn't really a beauty at the moment. Long nights on the town and drinking to all hours can make for quite the morning mess. But the morning sun had long since risen, unlike the girl beneath the quilt. An old digital alarm clock lay on the floor in pieces having been smashed by a wayward hand that had shot out to silence it at some point during the morning. But that was hours ago. A black cat jumped up onto the checkered lump and started to dig its claws, kneading its paws into what would have been Trisha's backside beneath.


"Go...away..." A muffled voice blurted below the cover. The cat however, was not giving up. She was hungry, and this was just one way to get her Mistress out of bed. Walking stealthily down the lump that was Trisha, she reached the top of the girl's head and then jumped it before running away with a tail high in the air. If there was one thing that Trish hated, it was to have the cat sit or dance on her head. "Gah!" The covers were thrown back, and a disheveled looking Trish sat bolt upright, searching the room for the cat - who was waiting by the doorway. Letting out a growl of her own, she reached down the side of the bed and picked up one of her boots, which she hurled at the cat just missing her by a whisker. Damn cat. It was worse than the alarm clock.


Trisha yawned and stretched out in full, smacking her lips together as she stared out the window. What time was it? It felt like she had been asleep for days. Well, there was no sense burying herself back under the covers. She glanced at her closet and saw the black dress bag on the door. God, was that today? Trisha finally remembered that the Masquerade event was on. Everyone was going. She wasn't usually one for big town celebrations, but she had found the most adorable mask ever and an ensemble to match. Dressing up once a year couldn't hurt, could it? Tossing the old quilt onto the floor, she slid out of bed and stumbled off into her bathroom, humming her favorite tune. Slipping off her over sized Metallica T shirt and then turning on the faucets of her shower. Her voice and the hot steam floated out of the bathroom, as she went through her daily ritual of getting ready to face the world.


Hair...makeup...getting the lines straight on her stockings. Putting on her black lacey smalls, Trisha strutted out and ceremoniously unzipped the dress bag to reveal her outfit for the Masquerade.

Her love of Gothic couture' may have seemed to be a little pricey, but Trisha had been saving for this day. Every penny, ever sly dollar went to this ensemble, that was to be topped off by the most exquisite mask. After dressing herself, she finally placed on the final piece. The mask of the rabbit covered her face from view, and completed her look. Her hair was a mass of curls and teased ends.

Elegance with a touch of terror. Just how she liked it. Taking up her string purse, she took out her lipstick and drew a love smiley face on the mirror. A last look and she headed off out the door.

 

[Leaf Fi]

L i l l i a n a


This was it... Tonight was the night... The night she'd finally let her hair down, the night where she'd become someone else, the night where no one could tell her how to behave or frown disapprovingly. This? This was her one night of freedom.


Exhaling softly, the brunette silently wandered to the low shelf where her mask currently rested. The painted lips smiled at her in greeting and, for whatever the reason, the corners of her lips tugged upwards too. Ever so gently, her fingers brushed over the surface of the mask, soon cupping the area where the cheek was. For a second the girl remained in that position, just staring into nothingness as she breathed, and then, suddenly, she was off; turning on her heel and rushing off to the other side of the spacious bedroom. A bundle of nerves now were ripping through Lilliana's body and it felt as if she was about to suffocate. "I can't... I can't do this..." The same words ever since her idea came into play fell from her mouth again as her hands held onto the sides of her head. "I'm going to get caught... Mom and dad are going to recognise it's me... I'm going to become the stupid laughing stock...!" Groaning, Lilliana shook her head desperately and squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't give up though. She just... Couldn't. With a sigh, the brunette removed her hands from her head and clasped them together, just above her heart. 'Sneak in, sneak out... That's why I chose Volto...' Strangely, the thoughts were somewhat reassuring...


Her eyes reopened and flickered to her side where a mirror was located. With the dress on and her hair in light curls over her right shoulder, it was still a little hard to believe that the girl she was staring at was her... Pastel colours with cutesy clothing and accessories were what her typical outfit entailed, so wearing this dress that hugged her figure as well as a bold blue was definitely new... Maybe she wouldn't be caught after all... A smile reappeared on Lilliana's lips as she nodded with confidence, straightening her posture. Her heels clicked against the ground as she walked back to the mask, holding it in one hand before exiting her room. The silent house was filled with the sounds of her footfalls and breathing as she made her way to the front door. Quickly, the street was checked to see if anyone was around- no one was, thank god- and the mask was then put on before she left the large house, locking the door behind her. The spare key was hidden under a bush, and then she was officially off towards the main square.

 

[September]

"The Masquerade..." Ivan thought "nothing less weird to expect from the kind of people, that don't mind me around, I suppose.". Somehow, really quietly, laughter arose behind his back. Propably his imagination again, because nobody used to laugh about his jokes anyway. Despite his thoughts, he deliberately paid lots of money for his costume, since he does care about appearances and even more about offending everyone participating by being the fanciest dressed around. The edwardian suit, specially manufactured in London only for Ivan's measurements, seemed to be waiting for him in the center of his clothing room. The sole misplaced item in a perfectly tidy room, way too obvious, like bait to lure an animal into a trap. No cheese but a suit and a mask, no mousetrap but a clothing room. Cautiously Ivan began to put the suit on. First the white shirt made of egyptian cotton as well as the pinstriped trousers, followed by a grey vest of virgin wool and a shining silver edwardian tie. As he finally approached his vulture-skull-shaped mask, Ivan felt a tickle running down his spine, even though it was quite hot for his perception, that was the perception of a man, who endured the russian winter, awaiting a certain someone for several hours, simply to pull a trigger. But as the uncomfortable black of his masks insides granted him vision through it's eyeholes, for some reason he felt a thrill. A thrill he didn't feel for about a year now. And when Ivan finally put on his white mocassins and long bordeux-red coat to leave the house, deep inside he knew, what thrill he felt back then. It was the thrill of murder.

Spoiler

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_10/mask.jpg.2b2e7e85381050af27667dc29643893d.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="82922" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_10/mask.jpg.2b2e7e85381050af27667dc29643893d.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>





<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_10/tradblackedwardianlge.jpg.91a768490974a1b9d29c0a034f86683c.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="82923" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_10/tradblackedwardianlge.jpg.91a768490974a1b9d29c0a034f86683c.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>





<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_10/versace-mokassin.jpg.ed90bd96c3793fdf3d067eaa690c86ba.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="82924" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_10/versace-mokassin.jpg.ed90bd96c3793fdf3d067eaa690c86ba.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

 

[TxTiger]

Gray ran quickly through every alley of the town. It was really dark, and the streets were only illuminated by the streetlights, a dim light that paint a gloomy atmosphere. Very few people were walking out of the place were the event was.


"I'll be late for sure" She shook her head. Suddenly she remembered a shortcut to the main square and turned on the left of a building.


She found herself in a dead end, the stink of trash was strong. She approached to the brick wall and passed a hand on the surface until she found a little irregularity.


"There it is!" she grabbed the escaping brick stretching her hand until she grabbed another one. By doing so, she managed to climb the wall and reach the roof of the building. She could see the whole town from there, and the main square too. It was surely crowded.


Gray looked toward a wooden board that connected the roof with another. She walked on it, getting to the top of a bakery. Lots of building were connected and she managed to reach the main square in half the time. She fell on a wagon that carried tons of tissues.


"Well, a soft fall indeed" She caressed her hip.


The square was large, characterized by the stone floor and the richness of colored lights. There was a wooden stage on the north, were many people engage in entertainment. Spread on the whole perimeter, lots of stands sold various things, from the food to clothes and masks. To the east side of the square were organized some attractions and games. The Ferris wheel couldn't miss, like the "Kill the bandits" game, the "Dark Lottery", the "Bet And Die" and the "Catch the Eye". Gray sighed as she reminded her childhood.


She walked around. She didn't know anyone, so she ended up sitting on a bench near a fountain, were two stone goblins sat near the spray of the water.


The orchestra started to play a familiar





"Ah, Martini again huh?" She smiled.

 

[Atrophia Sanguinis]

Gideon winced as he attempted to turn his body, admiring the masquerade attire as he leaned heavily on his cane in the large mirror. The stable master's wife had assisted him on this occasion, forcing him to shave and wash his tangled hair. She had combed through the infinite mats in his hair and had it pulled back in a ponytail, out of his face. He looked younger, or rather he looked his actual age. He grunted gruffly at the lace at the cuffs of his shirt. A monkey suit, that's what they called it. He began to glower at the idea of being dressed as a 'pretty' boy. A light smack on the back of his head interrupted his brooding.


"Oh, stop it, lad. You're worse than your master when it comes to clothes. You look regal; don't mind the extravagances of it and you might pull it off without a sour look in your eye." Nanna, the stable master's stout and chubby wife scolded. "Get your bloody mask on and get out to the party. The sun is already descending." She rushed out, perhaps preparing for her own costume.


Gideon had looked at her sullenly as she scolded and left him. Sure, he was grateful for her assistance with his...condition. But he couldn't help feeling dread building in his belly about attending an over crowded assembly. He usually hid in the hay loft and carved little figurines of chess pieces, trying to create his own set even though he would never play. But he'd been press ganged into wearing the stable master's costume as he fell ill and was bedridden. Nanna had forced Gideon to go in an effort not to 'waste' the outfit.


Casting one last glare at the lace he wobbled to the dressing table where his cowl, mask, and hat lay. Bauta stared up at him with it's gilded face. The mask of important men who wore it when secrecy in important meetings was needed. As if this masquerade would list in his top five important things. He sighed with resign and leaned the cane against the table as he stood, leaning a bit to keep his balance. Nanna had covered the skin around his eyes that would've been exposed by the masks eyes with black, making him seem intimidating or like a girl who just cried after a break up and wore too much mascara and eye shadow. He tied the mask to his face, grimly aware of the rumors of death if he should take it off. He then pulled the cowl around his head and neck and placed his black tricorne on his head. The only tan of his skin exposed was his hands. Grabbing his cane and leaning against it, he looked into the mirror once to check everything was in place. His silver eyes took on an eerie sharpness as his reflection stared back at him.


Blinking, he turned away and set out the small house and on the road, following late attenders similar to himself to the main part of the party. He felt less ridiculous seeing others in extravagant costume like his. He turned a corner too quickly and someone slammed against him, making them both stumble.


"My apologies." He said with unintended venom as he stood as straight so he could to relieve the pain in his leg. He down looked at the... bard?


@Kaera

 

[Tiny Dancer]

The music. In a way it was gaudy, and yet like the sort of tune you'd hear at some sad funeral procession - not a party like atmospheric song by any means. The warbling of the singer and the wild mix of horns. Dragging out each note to the extreme. The drum beat picking up in tempo through the second verse, by the time Trisha had rounded the last bend and come upon the square. Filled with many party goers, all dressed in different themes to suit their own desires. Fine masks that looked to be imported from Europe, and others that were simple in design and could be classified as home made. Through the slits of her mask, Trisha observed the different sections of the crowd, as some were enjoying the amusement like arcade tents, while some were gathered close to the band's stage.


Tapping her boot to the tempo of the music, Trisha glanced around to see if she recognized anyone that she might know. Course it wasn't easy with everyone wearing masks. But that was the point, wasn't it? The magic of anonymity. The thrill of not having to be just a face in the crowd, but to become something of an enigma behind a mask that perhaps suited your inner demon. Everyone had a dark side, didn't they? Perhaps this night, those that danced to the tune of Martin Martini, might be able to be truly free from their mundane existence. To strip off the skin of their flesh...and dance the night away...


Trisha reached up to one of the bunny like ears, and ran her gloved hand up and then gently pulled it downward a little. Toying with her mask, before releasing it and letting the ear bounce back into place.