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View Full Version : A Modern Fairy Tale (IC)



Miss Devil
02-02-2010, 02:05 AM
\\Tasanee Siran//


Tasanee Siran starred up at the moon in pure wonder. She was pondering deep thoughts of life, love, and about her dreams. She hoped so badly for something magical to happen to her. Yet nothing ever did.

Tonight at her father's main home, outside of the busy city and more into the country side, he was throwing a lavish ball for her and her "friends". By friends she meant the girls from her school that she barely knew nor cared to know. But her real friends the twins and Satine were coming. So at least she wasn't going to be alone.

"Miss, it's time to get ready. Your father is expecting you dressed and in the car in ten minutes exactly." Satine told her.

Tasanee was always in a hurry and she always hated being rushed. But tonight she was the main item for talk and stares. Neither of those bother her much she got use to it when she was younger. Still, she enjoyed getting to take her time and get dress slowly.

"Coming." She said as she stood up slowly and walked back into the penthouse bedroom. She walked directly over to wear Satine stood with the dress she would be wearing for part of the evening.

Satine help her slip into her dark navy blue dress, made of silk, that had diamond stars running down from her waist to the floor. It was beautiful. The dress fit snug on her and gave her the look of elegance and also made her look sexy. She felt and looked amazing.

Her dark straight hair had been curled and had a blue butterfly clipped in the back. She wore no make up except eye-liner and eyeshadow. Both made here eyes look stunning like the rest of her.

She smiled at herself and walked out of the penthouse and to the elevator. They were both in the car leaving for Daddy's country home in a limo.

Minkasha
02-02-2010, 02:57 AM
Monsieur Stupéfiant had is feet stretched out on the long chair. The sand beneath him and the wind blew across his half nude body. In his very tight Speedo he looked up into the sky with sunglasses that added to his mysterious persona. Birds flew over, making their mating calls. The fairy godfather wondered why even on his break he was surrounded by love and sex. Sounds of footsteps were being created and were heading his way. He put his right hand to the ash tray on the small plastic end table and pulled out a cigarette. The source of the footsteps now fell into his viewing. Speaking of sex…

He slid down his sunglasses to the tip of his nose. Before him was a very handsome waiter, but unlike him he wasn’t wearing a Speedo. He looked down the muscled and tan body with his blue eyes. The small mustache on his upper lip moved as he spoke. “It was certainly a good idea to match your parents together. Now be a good boy and lit my cig” he pushed his glasses back up and leaned back on the longhair. The blond boy leaned over, grabbed the lighter from the side table and lit the cigarette hanging from the fairy godfather’s lips.

“You know…” the frail body laying on the longhair began. “I think you should compensate me for the fact I made you possible” his seductive and coy voice spoke, he has been in the game for a while.

“Huh?” the blond asked.

“Just go with your feelings” Monsieur Stupéfiant raised his hand ready to wave it to cast a love spell. In the back of his mind his ‘Need fairy godparent’ alarm rang. He stopped casting. Damn it. An golden brown eyebrow raised in irritation.

He pulled out his cigarette from his mouth and as he held it in his hand so elegantly blew the smoke into the boy’s eyes. As soon as the boy waved the smoke away from his eyes… Monsieur Stupéfiant was gone.
Now in the bright and almighty halls of the Temple of Love he stood in front of very tall door guarded by two roman dressed fairies. They were armed with spears made of pure shining golden light, all fairy weapons were crafted from the same material as cupid’s bow.
Wearing a blue button up tucked in white golfer pants with matching white flats he walked up to them. They crossed their spears. He stood there, silent for a moment. They realized who it was and with fear and great honor moved out of the way.

“Good boys” he said taking another whiff of the smoke coming from the cigarette out of his mouth. Walking in smooth and cool like he trotted down the golden carpet that led to the Throne of the Goddess.
Before him was the mighty Goddess herself, Venus. Her beauty so powerful that no words could describe it.

“You better speak quick sister” he inhaled a giant cloud of smoke.

“I was ready maul that boy like a starving bear” he blew out the smoke, it came of the shape of a heart with a long stick sliding through the middle. “If you catch my drift”

Venus glared. Cupid in annoying baby form pouted.

“Are we here to play charades or was there a reason you ended my small 182 year break?” The guards around her looked at him in shock, the man had balls.

Venus cleared her throat politely before speaking, her skills in diplomacy always shined.

“There is a lack of Love Energy in the Siran Family Empire, the head rulers are not bonding. In order for peace to remain there must be new marriages forged so the family tress can continue” Venus was quick, but gentle as always. In the distant past there was a time where she could have solved such issues herself, but as new religions emerged and her followers died out her power decreased and now she is nothing more than a talking statue. It was the grand Fairies of Love that she created during the peak of her power that now do what needs to be done. Monsieur Stupéfiant was the best she had.

“Fun, another royal drama” his stance slacked down. “When this is done…” he looked up at the goddess whose heights dwarfed everyone. “I want a boat, a boat full of young strapping men” he slid on his heel to face away from her before teleporting away, leaving behind sparkles that slowly faded.

nonangelic92
02-02-2010, 03:09 AM
Charlene walked around her bedroom, freaking out. She kept throwing her clothes out of her closet. Oh my gosh what am I going to do, Tasanee's ball is tonight and I can't just find a thing to wear. Charlene suddenly smiled and rushed to her mother. "Mother, do you still have the gown you wore when you had your coming out party?" she asked sweetly. Her mother nodded and told her it was in her bedroom chest. Charlene hugged her mom and ran upstairs. When she found the dress, her eyes sparkled. She held the dress up tp her body and looked at herself in her mom's full length mirror, she couldn't wait to put the dress on.

After Charlene put the dress on, she twirled aimlessly around her room admiring herself in it. "I can't belive this gown fits." she said ahppily, " I hope I look utterly outstanding in tonights ball." she smiled and sat at her vanity. She looked at herself in the mirror and began to brush her hair, thinking about that nights ball.

Honey
02-02-2010, 03:27 AM
“There now, all better.” Alastrina Hainsworth said softly as she finished tugging, pinning, weaving and fluffing her oldest sister’s hair. Zenerva stood flinging her arms around the slender girl before rushing out to finish getting ready. Even as the door swung shut behind her it was yanked open so another could enter.

“TRINA!! HELP!” Gwen wailed, holding up a broken pair of heels. Smiling patiently, Ally led her second eldest sister back to her room and fished out a different pair from the girl’s closet. She smothered a laugh as she headed back towards her room, a squeal of delight echoing down the hall. All emergencies solved for the moment, she began to get ready herself as she had no guests to help this time.

A pathetic romantic she often ended up helping someone win the love of their dreams at one of these things. But tonight it appeared she was on her own. She paused in applying her makeup, wondering if anyone she knew would be there, then shrugged. It didn’t matter, she made friends easily.

With the ease of practice she finished her makeup quickly so her eyes looked even larger than usual and ran her fingers through her short cap of hair, opting to leave it down. The gown she slid into was a pale green strapless that hugged her upper body and flared out at her hips before falling to the ground. The strappy heels she tugged on added a mere three inches to her already dainty height and she had a moment to wish for longer legs before her sisters began to shout for her downstairs.

rabbit
02-02-2010, 04:12 AM
Marcy Hatten-Stevens

Five, six, seven, eight… One, two, three, four, five, six – hip pop, turn, kick, extension, hold it for three counts, down, eight, one, two, three, four…

Marcy stood poised on the polished concrete floor of the dance studio, one arm raised strongly above her head, hand facing away, fingers held elegantly relaxed, and the other arm straight out to her side, fingers composed in a similar manner. Her brunette’s chest rose and fell with a controlled breath, sweat breading on her forehead and sliding down fair skin, cool now in the air-conditioned room compared to her hot skin.

After another breath, Miss Hatten-Stevens stepped out of the spot she’d ended up in for the fourteenth time today and crossed the mirrored room to her rather stylish, vintage leather messenger bag. She bent down, plucked the bag off the ground by its long strap and tossed it over her shoulder; crossing to the speaker system, Marcy unplugged her iPad and slid the light device into her bag. On her way to the door, she fished her sweater out of the bag and shrugged into it, rolling up the sleeves to just before her elbows.

As she descended the stairs of the academy, Marcy slid her slender silver bracelet-watch onto her wrist and checked the time. She had two hours. A sigh heaved her chest and she slid into the back seat of the discrete town car waiting at the curb.

The driver pulled away from the curb, and that was when her bag started to lightly vibrate, making her blink and retrieve her cell phone from her inside pocket.

“Hello, Marcy here,” she chimed, tipping her head to support the phone against her ear with her shoulder.

“Darling, are you going to wear the blue or orange?” Her mother asked, sounding worried. Marcy sighed.

“Neither, I told you, I want to wear the white. It looks great on me,” she replied.

“But honey, so many things can happen to a white dress! It’s just begging for a stain!”

“So is blue and orange! Why don’t I just wear black?”

“No, no, black makes you look so… Pale! But then again, with a dark lipstick and smoky eyes…” Marcy’s mother trailed off in thought as she tended to do.

“What about that creamy-gold Armani number ( http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk132/HimitsuDesu_/8765larger.jpg)?” Marcy suggested and her mother made a thoughtful noise.

“That might work, darling! Good thinking!” She praised her, smile in her voice.

“All, right, I’ll start getting ready when I get home, in about ten minutes,” Marcy replied and they exchanged goodbyes before hanging up the phone. It was slightly tiresome to have to be so polite with one’s own mother.


----

Duncan Whitburg

To have to arrive four hours early is a hassle. To have to arrive four hours early to something you’re invited to as a guest, only to have to work most of the night is a bigger hassle. To have to arrive four hours early to something you’re invited to as a guest, only to have to work most of the night and have to appear fully decked out in a tuxedo and while you’re working, seem like you aren’t working, for your family’s sake, is an even bigger hassle.

“Get out!” Chef Brassard hollered, waving at Duncan with a towel in his hand. “You’re starting to sweat! You’ll stain your shirt!”

Duncan sighed and picked up a stack of plates, walking backwards out of the hot, bustling kitchen so he could open the door with his back. Turning the face the right direction, the nineteen year-old deftly swerved out of the way of several waiters and went about helping set the tables.

Tonight wouldn’t be the first time Duncan Whitburg has had to perform a juggling act to this caliber, but this time he was without a crucial tool – his father, who usually covered for Duncan when he happened to be in the kitchen for some reason or another. He thought about how he’d accomplish this feat tonight as he set the plates on the fine-linen tablecloths; as he set the last one he was carrying, he glanced around the hall.

For such a modern exterior, this particular Siran estate had a wide range of elegantly styled rooms. Earlier, when they hadn’t been so busy with last-minute preparations, Duncan had taken the chance to scout out the place and he’d found that he’d liked the marble-floored red and gold smoking room the best, followed closely by the dark-wooded library.

“Mr. Whitburg! Chef Julian wants you again!” One of the waiters called to him and the young man quickly ducked back into the kitchen.

Mockingjay
02-02-2010, 08:36 PM
Doon ah din-ah-din-ah doon-ah din-ah din-ah doon...

The wiry young boy at the tablas sat on the ground beside a potted plant. His legs crossed and the drum before his knees, the boy kept a steady beat; one doon-ah din-ah din-ah after another. Amir liked to work with the tablas playing. He needed to work with a little noise behind him so his room wouldn't feel so large. And yet, he was the one who extended it so many times. Did he like large spaces? No, not really. It made him feel small and more alone than usual. He had only asked for this extensive project so that he could see his father.

He was a prince, which meant his father was the king. And being the king meant being busy with the affairs of the people. When he was younger, Amir hated the people. His father seemed to love them more than he for he spent his whole time worrying about THEM than spending time with him. But Amir understood that running a nation was mentally arduous, and required more attention than a man.

There was a knock.

"What?!" Amir screamed. Blasted maids and butlers were always rushing in and rushing out of his room. Never a moment of silence, alone time.

A shy butler stepped in. "Sir," he said quietly, "The ball. You have less than an hour."

"Fine." Amir turned back to his maths book. The tabla boy stopped playing when he noticed the butler still standing beside Amir's door.

"Sir..." the butler said again.

"WHAT?!"

"Your father wants you to get dressed now."

"Well if you'd leave..." Amir said in a rather bitter tone, and the butler bowed and walked away.

Amir went to his closet doors and looked at his wardrobe. Every suit was brand new (he had a new wardrobe imported this year at his request). He chose a navy blue suit but before he could take it off of the rod, four servants popped into the closet and started to prep the garment. They had to attach eye-catching jewels and medals to show his wealth and stature. Not that he minded, really. He loved looking as impressive as possible.

Tonight would surely be no different than the other galas. He noticed a servant attaching diamond encrusted cufflings. "Don't use that," he said, and he smirked a little as he said, "I wouldn't want to give any ladies heart attacks."

Amir poked his head out of the closet. "Did I tell you to stop playing?" he shouted to the tabla boy. And again, the sultry beats filled the room.

Doon ah din-ah din-ah doon...

sneakyonfoota
02-03-2010, 05:00 AM
Stretched across a chaise longue was a woman in a silk dress and evening gloves. Her legs crossed, she balanced a stiletto by her toe before letting it drop to the floor to join its twin. She lounged with her spine and neck arched along the back of the sofa. Her piled, platinum hair weighed her head down as she drew from the mouthpiece of a hookah.

"Whatever happened to being fashionably late?" she sighed. She glanced over lazily to the armchair across to her, where sat a handsome man whom she playfully dubbed "Nicholas Nickleby" due to his clothes when they were get ready hours prior.

"Early is the new late," he said with a shrug and a smile, bending forward to claim the hose from her.

They arrived an hour ago in a cherry red DB4; long before the time printed on the invitation--no accident, they wished to eschew or rather outright avoid formalities and greetings upon arrival, preferring the opportunity to pick and choose for themselves by being already situated. Comfortably situated. "They" of course being Anais and Amon Caroligne, the Marquise and Marquis of Renard, scions of the Salii Group--plutocrats among plutocrats.

Ever insular, they had retreated to a parlour that looked out to a patio and made themselves quite at home with a tray of purloined hors d'oeuvres (they were entreated to "help themselves" after all) and a hookah--not initially provided, rather packed away into Amon's "trousse de jouets".

Anais rolled onto her stomach, resting her chin on her folded arms. "We could always have our own little party," she suggested.

Amon studied the head of his walking stick, staring into the macabre, empty sockets of the pewter fox skull laid into its acrylic handle. An heirloom; the queer accessory served as a symbol of the head of the Carolignes since at least Amon's grandfather--this much he gathered from portraits and old photographs; he never actually met the man.

"So soon?" he muttered rather distantly. "Our little debutante hasn't yet arrived."

Anais frowned and sighed, sinking down into the sofa. "Hmph. So where is the Infanta, then?" Twisting like a falling cat, she shifted her position so that she was sitting facing her brother, snatching the hose from his grip. "I've half a mind to sling her over my shoulder like a Visigoth and speed her away somewhere less... stifling. Really, this should have been done over at the Estoria." She once again took to sucking down on the hookah and proceeded to blow rings, becoming completely absorbed in the activity.

Amon observed her, resting his chin on the his walking stick. She looked genuinely lost in thought; so far into her own head that even Amon could only imagine what she was thinking. Her brow knitted and furrowed, and then her eyes widened and her jaw slack. He was so lost in her features that he didn't notice right away when she was speaking again.

"Hm?" he uttered questioningly.

"You forgot the present, didn't you?" repeated Anais. She pushed him back into his armchair. "You forgot!" It was more incredulous than angry.

She was up now. Up and pacing about--thinking.

"I'll write her a coupon on a cocktail napkin," she resolved. "Oh, wait!" Then jumped onto her brother's lap, causing him to grunt in surprise, yet not releasing his hold of his cane. She patted his jacket and probed its pockets, going 'aha!' when she claimed his business card case and then continued her exploratory in search of a pen. With both items she curled on his lap, removing her gloves with her teeth and setting to work making a simple, yet elegant faux "gift certificate" on the back of one of Amon's business cards--apparently redeemable for gelato in Milan. She held the card away from her, admiring the little motifs she drew and the little cartoon foxes she made in the corners, going cheek to cheek with her brother to show it off to him.

"Done. We're off the hook. Yay me."

Miss Devil
02-03-2010, 11:06 PM
Tasanee arived at her father's house completely nervous. Her palms were all sweaty and he dress felt to clingy to her pale skin. Tge fabric felt like it was choking her body. She was having a small panic attack when she heard how many people her father had invited to her coming out party. And coming out as in coming of age where she gets to take over the family buisness and what not.

In totally there is expected to be over 300 guest. She wasn't really to panicked about the strangers, she was more worried about her classmates and what they would think of her. There was only going to be about a handful of them there. Some of they were coming with their parents, others were not. But still so little would actually be there.

She got out of the limo her thoughts speeding on the party. She could always hide. She knew this house better than her father... But what if she is missed? This is HER coming out party after all.

The smile played on her lips as one of the servants opened the door before she could think about opening it.

That's the perks of being higher up on the food chain, she thought to herself as she entered the white mansion. Her eyes glowed as she watched everyone prep for the party that was about to begin.

Her best friends were waiting for her and she was excited. The mask were on a main table everyone was expected to put one on. Her's was in the room her friends were waiting.

Honey
02-03-2010, 11:13 PM
It took her a few minutes but she was finally able to smooth away a last minute crisis and load her sisters into the limo, before sending the chatty, ecstatic trio on their way. With a relieved sigh she slid into a smaller car, requesting the driver stop at her father’s company building before driving to the Siran estate. The drive was relatively fast and soon Alastrina was sliding back out of the car and moving steadily up through the building. The few people she saw inclined their heads respectfully, while hurrying to do their work, none taking any real notice of her ball attire. It was usual for her to show up at odd hours in different styles of dress to see her father.

There was no secretary at the reception desk but Alastrina would have ignored them anyway, and headed straight into her father’s office. He was in a meeting elsewhere it seemed and she moved to his desk to leave him a note and order him a meal. She smiled when she saw the little box on his desk, the words “Sorry, Ally Cat” printed neatly across the top and opened it to find a simple gold drop bracelet to match the drops at her ears. She clipped it on to one delicate wrist, before finishing her business and exiting the room. She navigated her way back to the garage quickly and easily with only the soft click of her heels for company as it appeared her father was running late.

Minkasha
02-04-2010, 12:46 AM
Monsieur Stupéfiant phased into the new location, the Siran empire.
“Well this is not what was like back in 1828” people walked past him on the side walk. He watched them, looked at what they wore and how they walked, the way their hair moved. The Godfather move his hand back through his hair “looks like I’m still ahead of the game” he took in a cloud of smoke and blew it out. The people around him coughed and glared. “As always”

Walking down the sidewalk, laid back and always slick he began to plain his romance plot. It was a real bitch to play with the little princes and princesses. He was crossing the street.
“Whiney little bastards” he dropped the cigarette on the pavement as it was close to death. Being a fairy gave him a unique aura, one that even the most self centered people could feel. It did not provoke any emotion. It just made them notice him and this was shown as he leaned against a building wall with a bent knee.

Arms cross he continued to think on his idea. Back in the 1800s he could just say “I’m a Fairy Godfather look what I can do” and conjure a quick flash. Now with the new technology and improved sense of skepticism people would doubt him. But now that he thought about it… there were dramatic ways of showing the truth. Lighting another cigarette he turned his head…something interesting was here.

Another Fairy. His eyes leered into the direction of the feeling. It was very weak…so weak he could hardly feel it. He would have thought it to be competition if: 1. a fairy could even come close to his skill and 2: The sensation was stronger. It seemed as if a new Fairy was being created through transformation. Venus could create some and others can change…

Whoever this person was they were romance hookers. Putting out all the time to help other couples form. This classy whore of romance was getting his or her just deserves...becoming a Fairy Parent.

“It seems I have someone to school” he said to himself very quietly, being muffled out by the walking of others. He began to make his way there. Once at a cross walk a car drove up to him and almost hit him. The driver and passenger inside were laughing off their socks. Yet Monsieur Stupéfiant did not even flinch. He turned to face them in the middle of the sidewalk, the other walkers dashed off.His sunglasses stared them down, smoke danced in front of them.

“FAG!” the man driving yelled. The man in the passenger seat laughed.

He stood there till their laughter ended. Silence, a staring competition between the three. Cars honked behind the vehicle in front.

“Let’s see…two homophobes who both do not have girlfriends as of now…” he calculated to himself. He raised his right hand with his index and middle finger apart. They stared thinking of him as a freak, as soon as he slammed his fingers together both of them began to feel funny inside.

They looked at one another. They tried to shake their heads in denial, as Monsieur Stupéfiant walked off they continued to shake off the new feelings.

The Fairy could hear the vehicle speed off with urgency.
“Oh young love” he blew out another cloud in the shape of two intertwined male sex symbols.

He was in front of the building where this new Fairy was and teleported inside. Following the feeling he was in a garage. Looking at a blonde walking to a car he walked up to her.
“Hey sweet heart” he dropped his smoke stick and smashed it.

sneakyonfoota
02-04-2010, 12:55 AM
A pair of foxes stood in finery, notably separated from the rest of the guests. Of course, the shorter of the foxes wore a tyrian purple cheongsam, and was only as much a "fox" as the white lacquered kabuki kitsune mask would cover. The second; taller, very much a man; was not of the vulpine variety, but of the "Guido Fawkes" kind, all squints and smirks nested inside of a Van Dyck.

It took almost no time at all for the mansion to fill; a procession of acquaintances, clients, distant relations and otherwise non-entities--barely blips on the Carolignes' radar.

"Shall we hob and nob?" asked the fox, turning to Fawkes.

"I would prefer not," Amon flatly replied. He twisted his mask to the side of his head, finding the inside getting too warm and moist for his liking. "But I suppose we ought to at least pretend to be sociable."

Anais seemed to not be paying attention, instead texting someone with her iPhone. "You speak of the least, however I'm afraid that I've already done that much." She held it up to Amon's face. He noted that it was addressed to Tasanee's mobile.




Courage, dear! Courage! (^∀^)ノ


"Ah, good. Obligation fulfilled, then. Call it a night?"

"Stingy, stingy!" chastised Anais. She removed her glove and added with a slap, "Bad!" She crossed her arms with a hmph. "I didn't go to the trouble to look like Suzie Wong to not commit dear Tasanee's awkward ascension to pretty womanhood--" Amon made a face at that. Anais paused, yet finished her thought, "--to my fantastic, and very selective eidetic memory!" Then she added, "Plus I bought a new Nikon just for this occasion." She held it up, a brand new COOLPIX S100PJ with an added sound effect. "Shing! Sparkle sparkle!"

"...Point made. How ever shall we go about this? Make idle conversation?" He over-gestured with his hands.

"Rub elbows?" suggested Anais, literally rubbing her elbow to Amon's.

"Hear the good word?"

"Wish well and backslap?" Obvious what she did there.

They held their poses and then shared a groan.

As they peered about the room; the atmosphere doing absolutely nothing for them; their two pairs of eyes glanced over at two older couples chatting amongst themselves across the room. Amon cleared his throat and stretched out his lips into a tight line.

"I say, Buffy," he said with an affected Mid-Atlantic accent, "have you tried the '68 Quinta?" He mimed holding a wine glass and sniffing its bouquet. "Scandalous. Utterly wretched." Then flapped his jowls like a stereotypical Nixon.

"Simply dreadful, dah-ling," said Anais with her nose thrust skyward and tapping Zsa Zsa Gabor. "Why, if I were Siran I'd be embarrassed into an aneurysm."

"Oh ho ho," laughed Amon hollowly.

"Ah hahaha," lilted Anais.

Mockingjay
02-04-2010, 01:32 AM
He needed to marry, and marry fast. His country Vaneer needed money, lots of money. The people were upset; a few conflicts at Vaneer banks because they're soon becoming bankrupt. The young and influenced by Democracy youth are planning to overthrow the crown to create a pace for economic opportunity. Whoever Amir was tied to marriage with, she had to be rich. Wonderfully rich.

Amir slipped on his mother's turquoise ring. Her hands were slender, so it could only fit awkwardly on his finger, but he still liked it. He looked in the mirror. "You look like a prince," he said to the reflection. And it was true, for he looked as if he had all the money in the world with the decorations on his suit. What a lie. A wonderful, beautiful lie.

He left his bedroom and entered the grand hallway, where he found his brother Shiraz walking out of his bedroom with a lump in his jacket pocket. Amir stepped quietly behind him, then grabbed him and hoisted him over his shoulders. The child giggled and pounded on his back. When Amir put him down, he pointed to the lump in Shiraz's jacket.

"What is that?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing..." the little boy fidgetted.

"Then can I see?"

Reluctantly, the boy pulled out a toy truck from his suit. Ashamed, he handed the truck up to his brother but never made eye contact.

"I should tell Papa," said Amir, but he couldn't help but smile. "You know better."

"NO!" the boy screamed. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Amir slipped the toy into his own jacket pocket, and smiled at Shiraz. "Our secret, okay?"

Together, they smiled.

Honey
02-04-2010, 01:43 AM
Alastrina thought of her father as she walked towards the car. He was working so much lately, all the awkward hours because of the new client. He arrived late to social event, well those he didn’t miss altogether, she worried he wasn’t taking proper care of himself. Though he still remembered the little things, she smiled, fingering her new bracelet and hoping things would return to normal soon.

So engrossed in her thoughts she didn’t notice the man approach and as such was startled when he spoke. She blinked, wide eyed innocence, as he dropped and killed the cigarette. Her driver was steps away, sliding from the sleek black car to open her door. But she stayed where she was, thinking perhaps he was lost or looking for someone and she still had time before the ball, so helping him was no problem.

“Hello, can I help you?” She asked politely, her expression soft and smiling once more. She smoothed a hand down her gown, before it flicked up to tuck her hair behind her ear. Seeing there was a man holding Alastrina up, the large driver started to move forward intent on using his considerable size to move the man along. The pixie like girl shook her head and held up a finger, signaling she'd be along in a minute.

Minkasha
02-04-2010, 01:57 AM
Monsieur Stupéfiant shook his head

“They always look so cute and innocent at first” he said to himself quietly.

“Listen…”he waved a hand out in gesture. “I’m not one to beat around the bush so I’m just going to tell you” he looked at her deep into the eyes. “Kid…you’re a Fairy Godmother” he clapped his hands in congratulations.

“Congrats! You now get to manage everyone’s love life but your own!” fake optimism shined through it all.

Some would say it’s a painful transition and you should go slow with it. But that’s just not him. If he wanted to waste time he would not be right in front of her. The little blonde will just have to pull it together.

Honey
02-04-2010, 03:19 AM
Alastrina laughed cheerily and started once more for the car waving for the odd man to follow.

“You must now some of my friends from school. I was really hoping the nickname wouldn’t stick. But what’s a girl to do right?” She paused as the driver opened the door once more, a stoic expression in place.

“Are you attending the ball at the Siran estate tonight? I could give you a lift as that’s where I’m heading myself. My father was to accompany me but he’s running late so there’s plenty of room.” She sat and slid across to the other side, leaning forward to see if he would follow as she arranged the skirts of her dress.

Minkasha
02-04-2010, 04:08 AM
The Gay Godfather had a few choices here. There was the very blunt answer where he could make the drive lust for him and with a wave of his hand not lust anymore as a dramatic example. Heck he could make her fall in love with him since she wasn't full turned yet.

But Monsieur Stupéfiant decided to play it sly.

"Alright doll, you got me." he waved his hands, all smug as can be. He slid in the car.

"Do you allow smoking sister? Because I got an itch that needs to be scratched"

Mockingjay
02-05-2010, 12:55 AM
Shiraz held Amir's hand as they walked together down the hall. Portraits of their family, dating all the way back to the 14th century, hung proudly. The men had puffed chests, or regal poses; the women sat gracefully in their chairs as Queens.

His favorite was of course his mother's, whose eyes he had inherited. Amir was Shiraz's age (three years old) when the painting had been completed. In the portrait his face lay on his mother's lap, while his mother looked out with soft eyes. The artist painted her mouth into a small smile, but while posing with Amir she had not grinned at all. Her body was aching her then. That's all that he could remember.

Shiraz pulled at Amir's hand. "Brother," he said with his little voice.

Amir hadn't realized he'd stopped at all.

They walked into the grand foyer to meet their father standing beneath the chandelier. He stood with a disappointed look on his face, one that Amir was used to.

In a voice with the depth of a thousand oceans, the king remarked bitterly to Amir, "You are late."

"My apologies, father." He bowed his head.

But the king did not acknowledge the apology. He simply turned on his heel and walked out to the hallway connecting to the back of the palace. The limo was pulled out front, waiting for their arrival.

They were accompanied in the vehicle with the ambassador to Siran, and the executive secretary to military affairs. As the car drove along, the king spoke again.

"Amir," he said to him in his usual authoritative tone. "You have a responsibility tonight."

"Yes Father."

"The country who hosts this evening’s gathering is of great economic importance to Vaneer,” he said. “They are in their golden age, and Vaneer is in need of its own. As a prince, and soon to be king, you must act appropriately.”

And by appropriately, his father meant kiss some ass, make some political friends, and please the little bitch who was having this party in the first place

“Of course Father,” he answered obediently.

Another party. Another whining, horse-faced brat to flirt with.

He did not want to be there. He did not want to be anywhere. In fact, he was thinking of ways to sneak out of the stupid ball and walk around the gardens or some other place of that sort.

He did not care for this idiotic princess, and he did not care for those idiotic girls who would be whoring around for a little attention. But before he could go on further with his hateful thoughts, Shiraz grabbed his hand. And Amir could not help but smile.

rabbit
02-05-2010, 02:31 AM
Marcy Hatten-Stevens

Marcy slipped her fingers to the back of her neck and lifted her long, dark brown locks away from her shoulders, causing her elbows to point up in the air. She turned her head from side to side, inspecting the proposed up-do then let the locks fall about her shoulders again in their usual loose curls.

“I can’t do anything with this,” she complained but slid the looped handle of her wristlet around her wrist and stood up, her slender, toned dancer’s body rising smoothly from the long, bench-like ottoman that made up the seat to her vanity.

Marcy’s creamy gold dress fell like champagne around her form, barely brushing the ground as she stood in her heels. She wore no jewelry, but the thin, braided gold chain ran down her bare back, aligned with her spine but otherwise seeming to dangle freely. The seventeen year old descended the stairs, hand gliding down the polished wooden rail, other keeping her skirt out of the way of her feet; outside, a limo (the non-stretch kind) was idling, its driver – a woman – holding open the door expectantly for her.

“Thank you, Margie,” she said as she slipped into the leather back seat. Margie smiled at Marcy and made sure the girl’s dress was safely inside before shutting the door, getting in herself, and driving away.

----

Duncan Whitburg

Passing one of his fellow kitchen-men, he passed off a silver platter to him in a most discreet manner and appeared at his mother’s side, hooking their arms together to escort her down the flight of stairs. His father had arrived earlier, with some of the other guests and was currently preoccupied, but his mother had needed to make sure his brothers and sisters were watched after tonight.

“Why, hello there,” Duncan’s mother smiled, looking to her son with amusement sparkling in her eyes.

“You look radiant tonight, mother,” he murmured to her, pressing a light kiss to her powdered cheek. He’d always been a momma’s boy.

Duncan passed her a mask and she accepted it with a small bow of her head and a moment of pause. She laughed then and looked ahead, scanning the crowd, “Shouldn’t you save your wit for the girls tonight, son?”

“Perhaps,” he seemed thoughtful, and then chuckled. “But I doubt there will be much time for girls, as usual.”

“You really ought to find the time. I want grandbabies someday, you know, not just delicious pancakes,” his mother chided and Duncan smiled shyly, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing the back of it.

“I’ll see you later,” he said and disappeared into the crowd.

Samantha Whitburg clasped her small purse with both hands and watched him go with a small shake of her head and a proud smile.

----

Marcy Hatten-Stevens

Marcy’s champagne-colored dress brushed the burgundy steps behind her as she descended the stairs into the ballroom where many of the guests had gathered. She was slightly later than most, but tardiness was a woman’s prerogative, and other guests were still arriving. The young woman found herself pausing before the last few steps, eyes scanning the room crowded with people.

Her wristlet dangled from the crook of her arm and in her hand she held a white mask, decorated in an old fashion with gold and blue trimmings; it looked slightly aged, but the age held a timeless beauty that had attracted her attention in the first place.

The seventeen year old lifted it and pressed it against the skin around her eyes, low forehead and temples, upper cheeks of her face – the skin-friendly adhesive on the inside kept it in place. She stepped down the last few steps and paused again; tentatively, she checked herself in a nearby mirror, off to the side. Marcy’s brown eyes stood out from behind the lighter mask, making her seem mysteriously beautiful; she blushed slightly, surprised, and turned away from the mirror.

Only a few others had put on the prepared masks, mostly the younger people in the crowd, and she was finding it difficult to recognize people. Would the masks perhaps hinder enjoying the night? She hoped not, they seemed awfully romantic. Finding the need to busy herself, Marcy glanced to her right and saw a waiter passing with a tray of empty glasses. As politely as she could manage, she moved through the crowd toward him and caught his shoulder and his attention. He turned to look down at her with a polite, questioning smile.

“Would you mind, please, getting me a glass of…” Her voice dropped, “Martinelli’s sparkling apple cider? In a champagne glass, please?” Unlike many others of her age (not to mention status), Marcy didn’t drink alcohol – she’d never enjoyed the taste of it, and she didn’t like the idea of feeling unlike herself.

“Of course,” he replied and nodded, walking off again.

sneakyonfoota
02-05-2010, 03:32 AM
"I'm bored," announced Anais.

"Yes, I know," replied Amon, though decidedly lacking any sort of sympathy.

A pause. Then, "Make it un-boring."

"I am afraid that I cannot deign such a tremendous undertaking," said Amon sighingly.

She hung off of his arm. "Amonnn... Borrrrrrrred...! Borrred! I could be watching Fringe right now! Or Discovery Channel, even! It's Shark Week again! Shark Week!"

"Television? Honestly." Well, it was a better idea than having her doing grappa shots at the bar... Still.

"They probably have every channel from here to Punta Arenas!"

As if we don't, thought Amon. "For some reason I doubt that Siran has acquired the same taste for telenovela as you inexplicably have."

"¡Te amo Beatriz!" Anais proclaimed.

Amon sighed again and pulled his mask back over his face.

"Es mi patico precioso," continued Anais, then added, "puto gringo."

Amon shook his head and looked down at her. "You have no idea how odd it is hearing that coming from a five-foot tall woman in a Chinese dress and a kabuki mask."

Anais fidgeted slightly. "Yo soy más alta que eso..."

• "¡Te amo Beatriz!" Anais proclaimed.
• "I love you Beatriz!" Anais proclaimed.

• "Es mi patico precioso," continued Anais, then added, "puto gringo."
• "It's my precious crack," continued Anais, then added, "American gigolo."

• Anais fidgeted slightly. "Yo soy más alta que eso..."
• Anais fidgeted slightly. "I'm taller than that..."

Honey
02-05-2010, 07:28 PM
“Of course, if you don’t mind driving with the windows down.” Alastirna responded as the door clicked shut and the driver rounded the car. Shutting his own door, he hit the buttons for the automatic windows and started for the Siran estate. The young blonde’s expression was somewhat dreamy as she stared out the window and up at the vibrant sky. Her thoughts wandered and she moved to curl her feet up onto the seat before remembering it was not her father with her. She shifted to angle herself more towards her guest.

“We shouldn’t be too late.” She said calculating the drive time in her head.

“Do you know many people who will be there? I hope I’ll be able to find my friends, I believe it is to be a masquerade of sorts. It should be interesting and fun, all the music and people.” She chattered on as the car maneuvered smoothly through the streets, speeding towards their destination. Her voice was bright filled with her excitement for the upcoming events, her head filled with images of women in swirl gowns and men in their fitted suits.

“Such magic happens at these things.” She murmured as the car pulled to a slow halt before the white mansion, then blushed deeply, realizing what a fool she must sound like.

Minkasha
02-05-2010, 09:30 PM
"Yes there is always magic" the trail of smoke left the car window.

The energy inside her. He could feel it with all his fairy senses would allow. She was so close to turning but she needed that push. It could not be forced, she has to come to terms with her new powers and responsibilities. Monsieur Stupéfiant would need her to cast her first fairy spell. Once turned she could be of some help with this mission.

"I must say...you have been very generous" past his mysterious lenses he watched her, legs crossed he sat opposite of her. The Fairy began to think when he could tell her. Looking back he should have known denial would be the first reaction to this...

It will be at the party. Once there he will show her something really 'magical'

Mockingjay
02-05-2010, 11:57 PM
They were late.

Beyond Late.

They were almost counted as absent. Their table had been the only one left uninhabited in the room. Girls -- in both puffy and clingy attire -- waltzed, socialized, and tip-toed in and out of the room in packs. Why did they always travel like that? he thought to himself. Women were odd to Amir because they were just so stupid. They ruled with their hearts and not with their heads. It was annoying. Everything had meaning to them -- a stupid picture, or even a silly flower. Stupid stupid... all of it.

When they were finally seated, the waiters asked them their drinks of choice. His father ordered a classy and expensive bitter wine, the ambassador champagne, and his brother ordered orange juice.

When the help finally approached Amir, Amir said curtly, "I want the strongest liquor in stock. Moonshine, if possible." Thankfully, the guest of honor's father was speaking excitedly with his father, and so he was saved from a disapproving stare. Amir gave Shiraz the toy truck under the table, and waited for his liquor. This night would require him to be absolutely wasted.

Miss Devil
02-06-2010, 12:16 AM
She took her seat next to her father on his left. Her eyes glanced about looking for her best friends. She hand her cellphone tuck on the strap of her heal. She had checked it while she sat pretending to look at her hands while she order a non-alcoholic drink. Her father order white wine for her mother and himself. As the drinks were served to everyone, father waited.

The Siran family was based upon politeness and paitence. Two things Tasanee had master. She was forced to. Once everyone was served father stood up quitely.

Everyone's attention was on the table and her father. She skillfully lifted her footand slid her phone into it's case without anyone noticing. Her father cleared his throat and turned to face her, slowly raising his glass.

"My beautiful beauty, you have grown up so well. You have matured, grown, and made a way for yourself. Your path was rough and still is as you take a road that was and is less traveled by. You grew up in a time where all you have to do is push a button and everything gets done. But even though times are diffrent then mine, when we didn't have technology like we do today, you have become such a mature woman and I am proud to call you my daughter. A toast to your future, may you find happiness my daughter." His voiced cracked slightly towards the end as everyone cheered on her.

She took a sip of her drink and rose her glass to her father. Their glasses touched and they both took a sip. Everyone started up conversations as she glanced at a man who seemed so... Diffrent.

Mockingjay
02-06-2010, 01:56 AM
Amir noticed the father of the girl up front on the stage. The girl was beside him, elegantly dressed and such, and toasted with him when he lifted his glass.

Amir noticed how the girl looked at her father with adoring eyes, as if her world was invested in his very being. To him that sort of bond was stupid. The girl would eventually get married to some odd looking character and leave her father forever, and their strong bond will be broken. There simply was no point in loving people who a person will eventually have to give up.

But being polite, he clapped for her and her father's little loving moment, just as everybody had. Afterward, he took a very large gulp of his drink and shook the sting off in his throat.

He looked back at the hosts. The father was again chatting ignorantly about his daughter --- who wasn't THAT pretty to begin with in the first place --- when he noticed the girl looking in his direction. He remembered what his father said - Act appropriately. he remembered that they needed her money and they needed it FAST.

So he smiled at her, hoping to make her think that he liked her.

Shani
02-06-2010, 03:31 AM
Satine was walking with her beautiful friend who was more of a sister. After tanasee took her mask satine then took her own. Until she was seperated from Tasanee. One of the servants grabbed her, something was wrong. "Satine everything us going wrong, some of the staff haven't shown."

"What? What do you mean they haven't shown?" she asked.

"There not here, Satine I could really use your help tonight."The woman plead.

"Marie no I can't, tonight my night off, you know I barely get one." Satine stated. "Alright I be back a little later, I have to go and talk to Tanasee."

"But, Okay but don't be too long, it's really bad. Thank you your a life saver." Marie said then ran off. Of coarse the one night to relax, have fun, and possils find love and happiness they need me. She thought as she pulled on herask and made her way over to the Siren family table. Since she is conciderd family she is permitted to sit there. There was a seat on the other side of Tanasee. She went over and sat by her. "Hey Tanasee, I'm sorry there was an issue with some of the staff. I'm propably going to be running back and forth all night. I know this is very important for you but they need me. I will fix the problem and be back I promise, of you need me before then you have my number." She wanted to stay so badly but she didn't want this to be a desaster for Tanasee, not on her big night. She looked over to the man staring at her,"looks like somebody has his eyes on you." She smiled trying to regain her breath. Its a good thing I brought my uniform just in case. This stinks.

sneakyonfoota
02-06-2010, 04:21 AM
The early birds became the stragglers. Amon glanced over his shoulder at the last vestiges of the thinning throng of guests trickling into the banquet hall. His mask sat on the counter of the cocktail bar next to the hooked handle of his ornamental cane.

"Cognac, please," he requested of the attending bartender. "Ah--the Rémy Martin. Thank you. Actually... Avez-vous soda à l'orange sanguine? Ah, oui. Trés bien. Merci."

The bartender was a handsome Gallic man. In pleasant small-talk between himself and Amon, he let slip that he was an award-winner of a cocktail competition sponsored by Grand Marnier. Amon was impressed. The cognac cocktail certainly tasted as though it was mixed with skill--and perhaps a smidgen of eros.

He looked to his side to see how Anais was faring. His face remained blank as he took in the picture: Anais had lined up six empty shot glasses into a capital letter A. She looked rather pleased with herself--only four letters left to go.

So it came to grappa after all..., Amon deadpanned internally.

"Gimme an A!" cheered Anais. "A! You got your A, you got your A!" she chanted as she cabbage-patched. "Gimme an N--"

"No."

"Hun?"

"Unless you plan on excusing yourself to the powder room to 'see Dr. Russell', I'm cutting you off," stated Amon. "Dr. Russell" of course being their secret code for forcing the gag reflex to vomit. Amon had a stack of plastic bibs stowed away in his "bag o' fun" in anticipation of this very predictable circumstance.

Anais made a moue. "You going to waterboard me, too, General?" she slurred.

"Says the fish."

She thumped her head against the counter. "Let's just get this farce over with already..."

Amon became aware that the hall had become much more empty in the last few moments.

"Hm. Wish granted. Come on, mask on. Curtain's going up."

Anais was quick to recover. "Guns at the ready," she sniggered, camera in hand. "Huhuhuhuhu..."

They took their place at their table, shared with others of the Salii Group; relations both distant in feeling and geography who barely acknowledged them when they sat. Just like Easter.

Anais didn't keep her eyes off of the head table from the moment they entered, relying entirely on Amon's graceful guidance as they wove through--it was probably too difficult to find one's seat deliberately when looking through a viewfinder, anyway.

Amon scanned the room, illuminated almost solely by candles, all lights and all attention trained on the Sirans--the heart of the Empire. He recalled a similar event over ten years ago... His and Anais' own debut held at the... Was it the Estoria? Those downtown hotels were all so generic, it could have been anywhere. Caught in the memory, he covered his eyes and chuckled lightly, recalling how he and his sister had traded wardrobes in a juvenile prank. It wasn't an unconvincing drag, as Amon's real growth spurt hadn't happened until he was 18, though the stunt greatly angered their father.

When the room quieted for Siran's speech, Anais blindly dug into her purse and removed a pair of noise-makers, offering one to her brother. At its heartfelt conclusion the two blew into them as if it were New Year's; paper tongues razzing in and out. Amon couldn't help but smile under his Guy Fawkes mask, comparing Siran's speech to the one they had received, and the notable lack of venom that underlaid the loving paternal sentiment.

He also didn't forget what this would mean for fair young Tasanee; officially branded now as eligible. When the thought crept into his mind he found himself leering warily at every young heir, trust fund holder and otherwise would-be suitor with descended testes in the room.

Now the games begin, Tasanee Siran.

Miss Devil
02-06-2010, 12:29 PM
Tasanee noticed his smile and couldn't help smile back. She then looked around the room until she meet Amon's eyes her smile still on her face she waved toward him, hoping he would see her distress wave.

"You better go then," She said turning her eyes over at her friends. "I want you back in an hour." She told Satine. "And no bs either." With that being she looked back at the man and the child next to him.

She stood up, her father's eyes on her, and walked to this handsome stranger. She didn't want to be rude to her other guests and chatted with them, politely and elegantly.

She carried her drink and took of a sip of it. She noticed an empty chair next to the man a decided to sit. But first she decided to introduce herself so the strangers would not be to shocked.

"Hello, I am Tasanee Siran, nice to meet you all." She said introducing herself to the whole table rather than to the man.

Honey
02-06-2010, 08:41 PM
“It was really no trouble, we were going to the same place anyway. I hope you have fun.” She said before her door was pulled open and she was whisked out by her father.

“Papa, you made it.” She crooned, tossing her arms around his neck for a brief hug. He chuckled pulling her back to press a quick kiss to her forehead. His large frame dwarfing the small girl even more.

“Aye, I slipped out early so I could surprise you. Now come along or we’ll miss everything.” The dark haired robust man slid her arm through his and tugged her along into the building. The stopped momentarily so Alastrina could retrieve a mask, managing to make it in time for the host’s speech. As applause sounded Ally gnawed on her lower lip realizing in her excitement at seeing her father she’d blown off the man in her car. She blinked eyes going wide, she hadn’t even asked his name or really anything about him.

“How horrible…” She murmured, looking about the room in distress.

“Let it go, Ally Cat, ‘tis a party. Come let us have a dance before some charming boy tries to steal you away.” Her father boomed before guiding her into another room and onto the dance floor.

Minkasha
02-06-2010, 08:59 PM
"And there she goes" the smoke cloud now danced on top the roof of the car. He sat there for a moment in solitude. Working himself out of the car he knew he was at the party now. He needed to star working on making the romance happen between all the royals in this party.

The Fairy Godmother would have to wait.

Walking up the steps he tossed his cigarette on the steps and continued inside. Loud and noisy as all such parties were he began to shift through people...looking for his love targets.

sneakyonfoota
02-06-2010, 10:03 PM
"Such initiative," commented Amon of Tasanee's bold forwardness. In spite of her barely perceptible tell saying otherwise, she seemed to be coping rather admirably, he judged. He wasn't totally unprepared for an unexpected extraction, however.

"Fresh out of the oven and she's already on the prowl," commented Anais, her camera following the debutante from the head table to the party from Vaneer.

Amon chose not to comment on that odd turn of phrase.

"Like she's some sort of poppin' fresh cougar," she added, as if to clarify.

Amon leaned in close and took a deep whiff of his sister.

"Shall I request a coffee?" he asked.

She breathed into her palm and smelled it self-consciously. Shaking her head she returned her attention to Tasanee. When she had the young man of the table in her sights, Anais snickered to herself and started to hum.

"Bum-bum bum-bum-bum, bum-bum bum-bum-bum... Are you gonna love this guy! Prince Ali, fabulous he! Ali Ababwa! Genuflect, show some respect, down on one knee! Come on, you know this one, Amon! Now, try your best to stay calm! Brush up your Sunday salaam--"

Amon's lip curled slightly into a barely perceptible sneer. "That's... terribly incorrect. On so many levels... I'm unable to properly articulate my..." As he almost managed to say, he was unable to complete that line of thought.

Mockingjay
02-06-2010, 11:58 PM
Lord. This child was just glowing with... happiness, and the first thing he could think of was, "How fake." Who in the hell would enjoy stupid masquerades like these? What sorry brain washed son of a gun would spend all of this money to entertain people who only want your money, your status, or your attention? Surrounding yourself with fake people... pitiful. This child was certainly mad.

There she was introducing herself to his table, his father shaking her hand and then the ambassador. He held out his hand for hers and she shook it, that silly "so-happy-to-meet-you" smile plastered to her face like crown molding.

"Pleased to meet you Princess," he said, flashing an equally fake "so-happy-to-be-here" smile. "I have only been here a mere twenty minutes, and I'm incredibly impressed with your taste in music and cuisine." And thank you most of all, he wanted to say, for providing the strongest liquor I had ever tasted in my life. Just a couple of drinks and BAM, the party would begin.

Shani
02-09-2010, 04:01 AM
( OOC : sorry for spelling Tasanee wrong a million times. )

"Alright one hour I promise I'll be back, unless I am kidnapped." She joked. Then she took her purse with the change of work clothes in it for just incase, which was smart thinking, to one of the back rooms to change. Those who didn't know her would never guess she was the same person. She went from all dolled up to work in an instant without question or knowlage. "Satine your here, thank god." a few workers said close to the same time.

"No, if you need my help then let's go I have to be back in an hour."She said.

"But Satine,we need you." many complained of her not being able to stay long.

"Listen alright, Tasanee gave orders there not mine there from her so let's get going." she gave a minnie speach. Then hid her bag out of sight and reach, and followed Marie to get trays to deliver food to the tables.

sneakyonfoota
02-09-2010, 05:30 PM
Had Anais possessed any empathic or telepathic abilities, she would likely have assailed the young man from Vaneer with a tide of incoherent insults and reasons set to the beat of popular show tunes. That not being the case, she continued to play voyeuse from her vantage point across the room.

Amon, however, felt that it was better for his heart to not be around. Hm. He seems to have a taste for the drink, he observed of the prince.

"I'll leave her in your care," he said to his sister as he rose, receiving a distant mmhmm as a reply.

When he turned to leave, his elbow was caught by one of his table-mates--a severe-looking man Amon's age with black slicked hair and glasses.

"Remember your obligations," was all he said to Amon before letting go and turning his attention to his champagne glass.

Amon replied with an effete grunt and exclused himself, striding out of the hall with cane in hand. His mind distant and thoughts even further away, he brushed past a rather casual-looking gentleman in white slacks and a powder blue shirt. He muttered a "pardonnez" as he made his way back to the bar.

Once again sitting at the counter, he asked, "Ah, excusez? Avez-vous de quelque chose eh... trop, trop fort?" He smiled.

The bartender blinked stunned for a moment but recovered quickly and returned Amon's smile with one of his own and raised a finger to indicate "one moment".

From below the counter he retrieved a large, clear bottle and placed it in front of Amon. "Voici. Everclear."

Amon shook his head. "Non, non... C'est trop négligé." What was this? A frat house? Well, this was supposed to be a young person's party after all...

"Ah, pardon," said the bartender, removing the bottle and ducking back under the counter. He rose again with another. "Eh... Ouzo? C'est trés bon."

Better image-wise at least, thought Amon, studying its label. But... 192 proof. No, Amon decided, it would be rude to blind foreign dignitaries. He pursed his lips and shook his head, nudging the bottle back toward the bartender. "Grappa," he requested.

"Comme vous voulez," the bartender said somewhat disenchantedly. He switched the Ouzo for a tapered, skinny bottle filled with a slightly yellow, clear liquid.

120 proof. Much better.

"Magnifique," praised Amon, turning the bottle over in his hands. "Je suis trés endetté à vous."

"Oui. Vous êtes." The bartender winked and slid a napkin folded into a triangle toward Amon. Amon tucked it into an inner jacket pocket, gave a grateful nod and turned away, the bottle cradled closely in the crook of his arm.

Glancing about in the hall, he found white balloons tied to a lamp with gold ribbon. He helped himself to one of them, removing a utility knife from his coat to slice one balloon off and then surreptitiously slice a hole close to the knot so that it would deflate without a pop--not that anyone would notice. Another slice and the flaccid balloon was severed and Amon was now in the possession of a gold ribbon. He tied it around the bottle's neck and gave it a quick inspection... Hm.

Taking a page from Anais' book, Amon took one of his business cards, pierced a corner with the tip of his blade and then wrote a message on the back.


With esteem,

- Le Marquis de Renard

He threaded the card on the ribbon, gave them a curl with his knife and looked for a suitable pawn... Flagging a waiter, he requested that the bottle be delivered to the King of Vaneer's table.



A - "Ah, excuse me... Do you have anything, um... very, very strong?"
B - "Here. Everclear."
A - "No, no... That's much too vulgar."
B - "Ah, pardon me. Um... Ouzo? It's quite good."
A - "Grappa."
B - "As you wish."
A - "Magnificent. I'm in your debt."
B - "Yes. You are."

Mockingjay
02-10-2010, 03:48 PM
The waiter who took the bottle was a thirty-something year old man with thinning hair and a protruding stomach. Amir had noticed him delivering food and drinks to the other surrounding tables simply because his face was formed in what seemed like a permanent scowl. Amir had admired this man's ability to show no shame in displaying his true thoughts so plainly on his face. The waiter waddled when he delivered food, much like a penguin or a disabled duck, and sighed when he had to bend down to pick up plates. Amir had watched him grimace when he turned his back on the royal guests, as if royalty were so uncultured and unintelligent as he.

This was why Amir had been a bit happy to see the penguin-like man waddle over to his table, with a bottled decorated by a balloon. Amir was eager to see the man's face when he delivered the bottle, to watch his expressions change.

"A gift," the waiter said, looking down his nose at Amir's father. The King was so overjoyed with his conversation with another guest, that he did not notice the rude waiter's lack of respect. The waiter had not even bowed his head towards the King.

"Thank you," Amir's father said after he turned his attention to the bottle being placed before him. The King impatiently said, "Ambassador, if you'd please." and returned to his most exciting conversation with the Duke of Empire.

The Ambassador poured the bottle into the King's, Amir's, and his own glass.


THIRTY MINUTES LATER

"HA! HA! HA! HA!" the King screamed as he slammed his hand down on the table. The silverware shook and one of the glasses nearly tipped over. Shiraz laughed too, not knowing what was so funny but only knowing that his father was laughing, and it was terribly funny. The laughter was loud and obnoxious, resembling somewhat of donkey's braying and the whinny of a horse, and the guests began to notice.

"And then seven eight nine!" shouted the Ambassador, to which the King slammed his hand on the table and brayed to.

Now Amir was embarrassed. Not only was his father drunk, but so was the representative of his country, as well as a few of the other guests which his father conversed with.

"Father," Amir said to him, "I think we should to leave."

"Silence, son!" the King slurred. "Seven eight nine! Did you hear that? Haha-haha, oh goodness! Genius joke, Ambassador, genius!"

"Father," Amir tried again. He knew he had to save his father and his country from more embarrassment, and the only way that would happen is if something quite important were to drive him away from the liquor.

"I believe a certain King of Empire would like to converse with you outside. In the gardens. Outside."

"Ooohh," said the King. "Well," he slurred, "I must get on with my kingly duties. The King of EMPIRE wants to speak privately with me. Later, old friends, we'll talk later!" The King rose to his feet so suddenly, that he almost tipped over and fell on top of the Ambassador's lap. Thankfully, Amir had already been up, and rushed to his father's side. He led the man out of the room in as much of a speed that he could muster.


:aaa:

Honey
02-11-2010, 01:33 AM
As her third dance came to an end Alastrina slid easily away from her father, knowing she wouldn’t be missed for some time. She smiled maneuvering through dancing couples and groups of friends as the music and laughter filled the air. Needing to rest her feet she entered another room and headed for the bar, shifting gratefully onto a stool, next to a masked brunette.

“Just water please.” She murmured absently, as she watched a waiter walk away with a bottle of champagne and a balloon. When a glass was placed in front of her she turned flashing a smile and shifting her mask up. She plucked the lemon slice off the side of the glass and popped it between her lips before snagging a straw to stir the ice around in her glass. Her nose wrinkled briefly and she pulled the now withered lemon from her mouth, placing it on a napkin that was whisked away and replaced seconds later. She sighed softly, staring into the depths of her swirling water as if it held the answers to all life mysteries.

rabbit
02-11-2010, 03:30 AM
Marcy Hatten-Stevens

“Papa!” Marcy smiled, delighted as she saw her father, sitting with some of his partners at their designated table.

“Emmy,” he stood and embraced her enthusiastically, lifting her off the floor and she giggled, feet kicking in the air slightly until he put her down. “How did school go? Did you get that routine finished?”

“Papa, you shouldn’t pick me up like that,” she sat down when he pulled out her chair and Marcy grinned up at her father in adoration.

“Aaah, no one cares,” he took his seat again and patted her knee. “Well? School?”

“It was good and we did get that routine finished. I stayed after to get it down right,” she took a sip of her drink and glanced away. Her father knew that look.

“And how many times did you practice it?” He smirked slightly.

“Um… Only fourteen?” She murmured to him under her breath, embarrassed.

He chuckled and shook his head, “’Only,’ she says.”

Chatter quieted when their host stood and began to address his guests.

----

Duncan Whitburg

Instead of sitting like most of the guests, Duncan pressed this back against the wall at the back of the room near the kitchen doors and watched as Tasanee’s father spoke. It was always interesting to hear what fathers had to say about their daughters. He wondered what his father would say about his sisters, and then maybe, one day, what Duncan himself would say about his daughters.

The dark haired boy chuckled. As if this was even a legitimate concern. First, he’d need to get a decent girlfriend, which was another amusing thought – between school and his career, keeping his bedroom straight on his own was difficult, which left upholding a romantic relationship with a young woman (that was worth even half her merit) close to impossible.

As he concluded his speak, the King of the Empire sat and his daughter proceeded to mill about the room. Duncan returned to his duties and brushed past some of the younger members of the party with a smile from behind the mask he’d donned after greeting his mother; it was a simple piece, black satin fabric and tipped at the tips with silver steel. Chef Julian had shoved it into his hands, rather than a plate of hors d'oeuvres like he’d been expecting.

Technically, he was supposed to be on his break now. And he was bored. Many of the guests’ faces blushed with intoxication, despite how early it was, and one of the “Kings” had just been escorted outside by his son, but he wasn’t one to get drunk. Buzzed, yes, but drunk, no. Mostly because he wasn’t old enough to legally drink, but secondly because his friends had once gotten him completely snuckered one night and possible pregnancies were later involved; thankfully, it turned out to be a false alarm in the end.

----

Marcy Hatten-Stevens

Marcy’s painted lips met her father’s cheek before she slid away from her table. He turned to look up at her curiously as his daughter stood and she squeezed his hand gently then rubbed a little of her lipstick off his cheek.

“Don’t worry, I’m just going to make a little bit of a party for some of the younger people,” grins, mischief shining in her eyes.

“Don’t cause too much trouble for our hosts, now,” he chided her.

Marcy tipped her head back and laughed, an arm loosely wrapped around her own waist. She kissed her father’s temple again and darted off, champagne dress wafting around her dancer’s legs and glass in her hand. For awhile, the brunette would not be found in the main hall, where most of the guests were gathered. Instead, she sauntered around the house, looking for the perfect room to hold the little side party for anyone not in their thirties.

Finally, she found it – it was the only room with any kind of stereo system, anyways, but the dark wood and small upper story made it feel slightly club-like, which was what she was going for; this party was more about dancing and having fun, rather than mingling and climbing the social ladder like many of the adults wanted. She turned on the music, dimmed the lights a little in the library and smiled to herself. Perfect.

The young woman returned to the main hall and retrieved herself another glass of Martinelli’s before making her way around the hall. The brunette paused casually next to each young person she saw, either murmuring them the invitation to the library or passing them a neatly folded note; she encouraged each to bring a friend, assuring them that the guest of honor – Tasanee – would be there, so they wouldn’t feel too bad about ditching the main shindig. Among the people she directly invited, though not all of their names she knew, were Alastrina, Duncan, Anais, Amon, Monsieur Stupéfiant and Tasanee, herself.

With a last stroll around the room, the brunette spotted a young boy, younger than many others here; he couldn’t even be older than three and looked too cute sitting alone at one of the tables, rolling a toy truck over the seat next to him. The sight touched her heart and stirred sympathy in her at the same time. Walking over to the little boy, Marcy tipped her head and smiled, squatting down to his level; her dress pooled around her on the marble floor.

“Hey there, kiddo, having fun?” Marcy asked him, a hand on the back of the chair to help her keep balance.

“Mhmm,” he nodded, but she could still tell he was a bit bored, lacking attention. The little boy raised his head an looked at her, slightly surprised, as if expecting someone else. “My name is Shiraz.”

“Well, Shiraz, my name is Marcy, and I saw you sitting over here and I was just wondering if you would like to go to the library – some of the big kids are going to be hanging out there and the grown-ups are getting pretty boring now, huh?” Shiraz nodded and picked up his toy truck, scooting off the end of his chair. Marcy smiled and straightened up, taking the little boy’s hand and walking with him, at his pace, to the library.

Mockingjay
02-11-2010, 04:01 AM
The big kids, Shiraz thought excitedly. I'm going to play with the big kids! He hoped the older kids would like his toy truck, which was his favorite because Amir had painted flames on the side of it a while ago.

His brother Amir was always sad. Sometimes Amir would look off, or stare at pictures of Mama, or even make the tabla boy play loud music for hours. Sometimes Shiraz would try to cheer Amir up by playing with him, but the smiles Amir shared did not last very long.

Shiraz knew that Amir was sad about Mama's death three years ago. She had died, but no one would tell him why. All he knew about his mother was that she loved Shiraz and Amir very much, and that Amir loved her more than anything in the world.

It was hard for Shiraz to love Mama, particularly because he did not know her. She was someone he was supposed to love, which was hard for Shiraz because he did not understand why. The only woman involved in Shiraz's life for as long as he could remember was his tutor, Soraya, who hugged him when he knew all of his alphabet and could spell words accurately, and to Shiraz Mama's were women who hugged their kids for doing good things. He wondered if Amir was ever hugged by Mama every day for knowing his alphabet, or for being able to spell "Comforter" or "Intelligent."


There was music playing in the library, and Shiraz could hear the laughter of the big kids. Suddenly he realized he knew this song. He pulled on Marcy's hand in excitement, and said, "Amir taught me this dance!"

Marcy was nice. She smiled at him a lot when they walked, and she was pretty. She knew that he didn't like the parties, which made Shiraz happy since it was his little secret, and this secret they shared made Marcy feel like a friend.

sneakyonfoota
02-11-2010, 05:23 PM
Welp, time to let the internet know.

Whipping out her trusty iPhone, Anais tweeted.


~



http://i28.photobucket.com/albums/c247/sneakyonfoota/rpa/fox_icon.png anniebastette

empire ball is full of lulz!!!jas;ldkfj1 (^∀^)
9:23 PM XXX Xth, 2010 from Twitterrific

GIMME AN A! GIMME AN N! O(≧∇≦)O
8:53 PM XXX Xth, 2010 from Twitterrific

party is lamz0rs ( ̄へ ̄)
8:39 PM XXX Xth, 2010 from Twitterrific

i miss tv (T_T)
8:38 PM XXX Xth, 2010 from Twitterrific

phyllo puffs are olev <3
7:59 PM XXX Xth, 2010 from Twitterrific


~

She snickered to herself. It looked as though the night wasn't a total waste after all... That delicious footage she captured was being edited and mixed in her head to numerous soundtracks and cuts. But to where to send it? YouTube? Buzz? The Associated Press? Like with her many endeavours, however, it would probably be destined to remain in some obscure and forgotten folder in her My Videos. Regardless, it was currently the center of her attention, and thus all-encompassing. Why, Amon's words only registered as an indistinct murmur when he returned.

"Hm?" uttered Anais, slowly wading back into reality.

"I said," said Amon, "'Did you enjoy the show?'."

Anais gave a thumbs up. "Five golden manbabies for you, good sir."

Amon bowed. "One tries his best."

"But now it's boring again," Anais lamented with a frown, tracing her finger along the rim of her champagne glass.

"Shall we initiate Plan B, then?" Amon suggested.

"I do like Plan B." Anais grinned.

rabbit
02-12-2010, 01:15 AM
Marcy Hatten-Stevens

As Marcy and Shiraz neared the library, she could hear others voices and the music had been turned up a bit since she left. Marcy smiled, pleased with the turn out – at least a dozen people had slipped away from the main hall and seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Shiraz tugged excitedly on her hand with an exclamation of, “Amir taught me this dance!”

Marcy laughed, tugged forward slightly by the child, and she shook her head, pleased to see him excited about something. “Ah, so you will dance with me, Shiraz?”

The brunette beamed at him, his enthusiasm flowing into her as children’s always seemed to. Still holding his hand, Marcy went to the make-shift dance floor other youths had cleared by pushing the desk against one wall, and playfully twirled him before twirling herself.

----

Duncan Whitburg

Duncan leaned forward against the hardwood railing of the up-stairs section of the library. He watched quietly as the teens around him enjoyed themselves, dancing, gossiping – basically, being free of their parents. Some of the other waiters had taken notice and had begun to shuttle less dignified drinks to and from the side party, which was how he’d ended up with a beer.

The nineteen year old lifted the slender neck to his lips when the apparent host of this little side-party entered the room with a toddler. He nearly choked and began coughing, turning away. They obviously weren’t related, so where had… What, a sixteen year old? Where had a sixteen year old found a toddler at the party?

He couldn’t help himself but smile as he watched them dance though, chuckling softly. Duncan raised the beer and took a drink, able to swallow it this time. His eyes moved on, studying faces in the crowd; bored again, though less so as he didn’t at all mind the music selection here, his eyes wandered to the books on the shelves around him, now engrossed by names and titles.

Mockingjay
02-14-2010, 05:23 PM
(TAKING ON MISS'S CHARACTER!!!) xD

Tasannee, while introducing herself again to another table, watched Amir escort his father outside to the pool area. She did not like the man very much anyways. He had a sort of pompous, cooler-than-thou-art ora around him that was sort of stifling. But she was however concerned with the reason why they had decided to leave the party.

She excused herself from the table, leaving her father to chat it up with the Duke of Siran, and exited the french doors.

The King of Vaneer was passed out on top of Amir's lap, snoring deeply and loudly. He looked like an over-grown ten year old, sleeping on his father's lap. He dribbled a little on the ends of Amir's jacket, but Amir did not seem to mind.

Amir looked up at her with fierce eyes. "What kind of princess serves liquor like this to her guests? Shameless."

Tasanee was taken aback, but quickly collected herself to retort, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. This bottle was given to my father, attached with a silly little balloon. A gift, apparently."

"Well I don't know what you're talking about, but you can either sit here and quarrel, or you can allow me to help you." She stepped toward Amir and said, "Your father can rest in one of the rooms upstairs until he is feeling a bit more like himself."

"Fine. Thank you."

Together, they lifted the King up, and took him to the back stair case. As the group walked through the halls, Amir began to ask questions about the pictures on the wall. He stopped in front of a portrait of a woman with a beautiful green dress and pearls. Her hair was wrapped up in a beautiful little bun, and her smile was a warm and welcoming one.

"My mother," Tasanee said. "Come on, hurry up."

Tasanee lead Amir to an ornate room with a grand king sized bed. Together, the gently lifted the king on to it. Tasanee removed the King's shoes, and Amir positioned him under the covers, being careful to rest his head appropriately on a pillow.

"Thank you," Amir said. "My father is usually never drunk. It was just that bottle."

"You're welcome," she returned, smiling a bit. She escorted him down the stairs and through a different hallway, where pop music floated throughout the grand halls.

"You sure this is the way back to the ballroom?" he asked her.

"Yes, but there's something coming from the library. Follow me."


(sorry it's so lame xD)

sneakyonfoota
02-14-2010, 07:58 PM
The Caroligne Twins spied upon Tasanee from the doorway and sidled in closer as gracefully and inconspicuously as could be managed.

"Oh ho, what have we stumbled upon," said Amon quietly with a smirk.

Anais slumped her shoulders. "No Plan B?"

Amon shook his head slowly and said with a smile, "No Plan B. We really should have put more faith in dear, sweet Tasanee." He glanced at his sister. "Did you get all that?"

She was scanning through the camera's folder.

"Browsing now." She took so many pictures that the thumbnails were almost animated as she blew through them in order. There were a few personal favourites of hers, and thanks to a lucky angle and some creative cropping, hinted vaguely at something that could be mistaken for chemistry.

"Are they... ambiguous?" asked Amon, watching Tasanee and Amir lug the inebriated King of Vaneer upstairs.

"Just enough," said Anais, clearly pleased.

"Excellent. Pick your favourites and send them to the usual people."

She was already way ahead of him, juggling memory cards, between her camera and her alternate mobile. The two tiptoed away (figuratively) to a bench so that she could finish her business.

"Cosmo, People, Us Weekly, Salon and Perez Hilton, you've got mail," grinned Anais.

It all couldn't have gone better if it were planned.

Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day, it looked like.

Minkasha
02-15-2010, 01:21 AM
Monsieur stupéfiant leaned against a wall of the large ballroom. Always the same over the top elegance seemed to trickled down through the ages and splatter the entire room. He looked down at his attire and compared it to everyone else's. Perhaps we was not dressed for the event, and that could compromise his role in this party... he did not want to be excused for not being in dress code.

And he already had a plan on what to wear and where to find it.

Flick.

The top of his lighter conjured a flame that lit another of his limitless cigarettes. Smoking in a building is always bound to get attention. With his luck a sexy young waiter who happened to be his size walked up to him with anger which just made him look as cute as a button.

"Sir, smoking is not permitted in here" his brown eyebrows were raised as he waited for the problem to be fixed.

"But..." he took in a deep inhale, his mustache a powerful and elusive sign of masculinity. "I think you find it drop dead sexy"

In protest the waiter tried to grab it out of his mouth but Monsieur stupéfiant forced his hand on waiter's and flowed love magic into him. The waiter began to grow flushed.

"I..." Monsieur stupéfiant winked while the waiter stumbled to collect himself. Pulling him by the collar he lead him into a small closet, it was dark inside.

Pushing the waiter down to his knees in front of him with one hand he used his free hand to find a blunt object.

Ziiiiip, there went the zipper.

"Wow you have a huge -" TWHAK!

Using a spare flashlight the Fairy Godfather knocked out the waiter.

"Oh I know" he said slyly as he put out his lit stick of appeal.

Switching clothes he was now the undercover gay spy.

Sliding out of the closet without looking suspicious at all he walked into the kitchen. All the waiter and cooks looked at him strangely thinking they have never seen him before but all shrugged it off. Grabbing a tray with wine on it he went back into the ballroom and began to serve at the tables.

Shani
02-16-2010, 12:28 AM
Once Satine made it into the kitchen her task was changed. Instead of serving food she was now on drink detail. She grabbed a verioty of beers and wines. She walked among the people sitting and talking at the tables. Satine noticed that most of them had been covered. So she went to were many of the teenagers went to get away from their parents. As she walked by this one boy, who was drinking a beer, standing against one of the railings(Duncan), she lost her step and a beer nearly spilled all over him. Luckly it missed and landed on the floor next to him in shatters. "Oh, no I am so sorry." she
stated. As she put the tray down on a near by table. She then took out napkins and began to clean it up.

(OOC:sorry for shortness)

sneakyonfoota
02-17-2010, 02:38 AM
Sitting on the bench, Anais was bent forward with elbows on knees, fiddling with her iPhone with her chin resting on her palm. Her fox mask was pulled around to the back, and she blew a stray strand of hair out of her face.



http://i28.photobucket.com/albums/c247/sneakyonfoota/rpa/fox_icon.png anniebastette

i'm a shark! i'm a SHAAAARK! suck my diiiiick!! I'M A SHAAARK! ( ゚▽゚)/
11:03PM XXX Xth, 2010 from Twitterrific

i take a couple uppers, i down a couple downers~ (^。^)
10:45 PM XXX Xth, 2010 from Twitterrific

rob the cradle? moi? just who do you think you're talking to?
10:30 PM XXX Xth, 2010 from Twitterrific

boredy, bored, bored, bored (・_・ )
10:05 PM XXX Xth, 2010 from Twitterrific

drinkin' in the morning, drinkin' in the evening, drinkin' all night long~
10:01 PM XXX Xth, 2010 from Twitterrific

empire ball is full of lulz!!!jas;ldkfj1 (^∀^)
9:23 PM XXX Xth, 2010 from Twitterrific

Noblesse oblige.

For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required: and to whom men have committed much, of him they will ask the more.

Amon rolled the shaft of his cane between his fingers. He sat with his back arched as he stared idly at the ceiling.

Obligation. Responsibility. Feh.

Ever the anchor, aren't you, Lucian? he muttered internally. His cousin remained at their table back in the ballroom, no doubt gathering "intelligence" and extending the Salii Group's gracious hand of friendship to the ambitious and desperate. Amon sighed quietly to himself. He could be baking a tart right now. He could be sipping a blackcurrant soda in Rotterdam. He could be gobbling down Oysters Rockefeller in New Orleans. Sigh again.

"So now what, sigh-baby?" asked Anais, not looking away from her mobile.

"I do believe we've done enough," said Amon wearily, "putting pleasure before business."

Anais hmphed and began playing Zombieville USA. "Who's to say we weren't working?"

Amon shook his head. "Nevertheless. There's a very important matter that hasn't been resolved." He traced a rectangle in the air with his index fingers.

The motion's significance dawned on Anais after a moment of thought. Her eyes lit up: ah! The present!

Mockingjay
02-18-2010, 02:54 AM
Amir and Tasannee creeped to the library door, and watched children and teens dancing, laughing and playng. They danced as if they were recently liberated from purgatory. They made each other laugh, and it was just so damn happy. This was not fake happiness, like Amir was used to seeing. This was the same type of happiness he watched Tasanee share with her father, but this time Amir could not say anything negative about it.

And then out of no where, a familiar truck zoomed out of the room and right before Amir's feet. Seconds later, the happy pit-pattering that increased in volume as it neared Amir and Tasanee revealed a tiny boy. Brown skin. Black hair. Green/hazel eyes. And giggling. Lots and lots of giggling.

"Shiraz!" Amir said in suprise. "What do you think you're doing?"

The giggling stopped. In fact, the whole room stopped.

"You left the table, Shiraz. Father will be VERY upset with you."

The small boy looked down at his feet.

"I am so upset with you. How dare you leave the table, Shiraz? Do you understand the danger in that?"

Shiraz looked as though he was about to cry, but just when Amir was about to scold him some more, a young woman intervened.

rabbit
02-18-2010, 03:08 AM
Duncan Whitburg

“Oh! Crap!” Duncan hissed, setting his beer down on the top of the railing. “God, are you new or something? You need to watch it!”

The handsome young man bent down, pulling out a linen rag from his innermost coat pocket and kneeling down to wipe up the spilled alcohol and glistening shards of glass. “Chef Julian and the caterers could have your head for this, you know! Ruining the host’s floor, Jesus…”

He sighed and stood up, glaring down at the young woman, frustrated. Before he could open his mouth to speak again, someone shouted and almost the entire room went quiet, heads swiveling towards them; it seemed that the older brother was scolding the younger for leaving the table. Before the elder could continue, a familiar brunette stepped between them, almost protective of the younger.

----

Marcy Hatten-Stevens

“Hey now, don’t yell at him!” Marcy snapped at the slightly taller young man, brown doe-eyes angered behind her hand-painted mask.

“Shiraz was bored and lonely in the ballroom, and since we were having this little get-together on the side, I invited him. If there is anyone you should be yelling at, at all, that person is me,” she continued before bending down, a motion she made very elegant without meaning to, picking up Shiraz’s toy truck, handing it to the little boy, and straightening. Her stern eyes met Amir's, unwavering.

Mockingjay
02-18-2010, 03:20 AM
"Excuse me Miss," he said to the brave woman in a rather sharp tone. "I don't believe this matter concerns you. You may have thought your actions were reasonable, but Shiraz needs to learn how to be behave. And I don't need your influence or your two cents when it comes to my brother."

He held out his hand to Shiraz, motioning for the child to give him the truck. "Shiraz, the truck please."

He was reluctant at first. He looked at the truck in his hands with such longing that Amir could tell he was contemplating the idea of being defiant. Amir's sharp tone took care of that, however.

"The truck, Shiraz."

(Sorry it's so short!)

rabbit
02-18-2010, 03:42 AM
Marcy Hatten-Stevens

“Pardon me, but it does concern me. Obviously, I’ve gotten him into this trouble and a, what, four year old? Should not be getting in trouble for trying to have some fun in the first place. Hopefully, if he is allowed to have a little fun, he won’t grow up to be quite as stuffy as you!” Marcy wasn’t fazed by his tone. She’d heard it too many times before, and by now she’d become immune to it.

“And!” She continued again, quite on the rant. This was unlike her; perhaps it was the sugar from the Martinelli’s? “He knows how to behave very well for someone as young as he is. He left no one alone at the table, he was not rude to anyone, and he still managed to enjoy himself until you come along to ruin everyone’s fun.”

They were drawing more attention now in the wide doorway of the library and somewhere along the way, Marcy’s hand had come to rest at the back of Shiraz’s neck.

(Don't be worried about length wen it's just between us, goofball! :3 PaM ♥)

Mockingjay
02-18-2010, 04:46 AM
This woman had irritated Amir to such an extent that he wanted to roar, scream, shout at her. But he remembered his mission. Tonight, he was supposed to be on his best behavior. He was supposed to make ties with politicians. He was supposd to save Vaneer by flirting carelessly with Tasanee, who now held a hand over her mouth in shock at his tone. And yet even though he knew he should just apologize and walk away, he couldn't help but want to yell so loudly to this foolish woman to mind her own business.

He watche as she placed a mothering hand against Shiraz's neck. Shiraz's shoulders relaxed, but on the inside Shiraz was about to cry. He did not like to see his brother upset, and more importantly upset with him. He also did not like to see Amir yell at his friends, because he had so few friends of his own.

However just as Amir was about to raise his voice to the woman, Tasanee lifted her delicate hand and placed it on his shoulder.

"Please," she said to him. "Stop."

Tasannee looked to Marcy and said, "Let's take this somewhere else."

Honey
02-19-2010, 04:32 PM
Alastrina was startled from her worldly contemplations by the invitation to the library, where more teenage appropriate events would occur. She smiled, downing her water quickly as she slid from the stool and set off. She paused momentarily in front of a mirror to blink at the green frog-like object on her head, then laughed realizing it was her mask. A quick tug had it settled back in place and she was on her way once more.

The green, clad blonde paused in the doorway, there seemed to be some sort of altercation going on amongst a few of the others. She recognized them as some of the people on her father ‘play nice’ list, as their parents were usually big contributors to hers business. She bit her lip unsure what to do, then her eyes caught the tearful child and her heart nearly broke. She knew that look, it was the same one she’d worn every time her mother had publicly criticized her, a mix of humiliation pain and sadness, the need to please and the want to just be happy. She tossed the boy a smile and a wink and scanned the room for someone she knew, thinking jackpot when she spotted all three of her sisters.

“You can have free pick of my jewelry for a month, if you let me use your music player and act like nothing’s happening.” She murmured slipping next to the trio seamlessly. She watched them struggle between the juicy gossip going on just a few feet away and the thought of picking through their baby sister’s prized collection. The flash of the gold at her wrist and ears is what did them in, as Alastrina figured they couldn’t resist the temptation of being able to wear her exclusive pieces.

The music player met her palm and the sisters separated. Zenerva headed straight for a group of guys easily flirting and pulling one onto the dance floor as Ally hooked the player up to the stereo system. A hot pounding beat filled the room as Gwen pulled another guy away from his friends and other couples started following suit. Chelsea moved to giggle with a group of girls, spreading false gossip about why some of the kids from school hadn’t shown. Ally stood, lip between her teeth, watching silently as attention strayed from the hostess’ small group and people returned to having a good time.

Minkasha
02-19-2010, 11:11 PM
As Monsieur stupéfiant continued to serve random people casually, his fairy senses continued to track the movements of his targets. They were all leaving to the main library. With any luck he hoped that they would begin to bond without the need of his assistance.

Time moved on, glasses of wine left his hand to the many old, rich, and powerful of the kingdoms. His natural elegance allowed him to waiter smoothly and remain unsuspicious.

His head began to receive a light irritation. Most times this meant his targets were having tensions with other targets. This was always bound to happen and he let it go.

The pain however continued to grow, and soon he was able to hear the argument. Now was his time to act. Holding a glass of wine he dashed passed couples as quickly as he could until he was in the library where it was young people city.

There was a attractive brunet female arguing with another yummy brown haired man. He knew them to be Marcy Hatten-Stevens and Amir Raj. Looking in the crowed he could see another target, Duncan Whitburg.

His task was to get them all romantically bound. But who was more fitting for Marcy? Amir or Duncan? Only fate could tell now as he took his role in the problem

Walking to the group he hid in the crowed. He was unable to make 'targets' fall in love with other 'targets' but using his awesome Fairy powers and thanks to the human concept of loop holes he could make them more willing to talk.

Using his Fairy magic he did his best to sooth Amir and Marcy. Perhaps now they would be willing to talk more, however how they would react to the out of the blue calmness is up to them.

Some humans are resistant to Fairy magic, and there was no way of knowing or being able to force anything on them.

He knew that whenever he used his magic other Fairies would be able to feel it. Although Alastrina was not a full fairy yet, the sensation should still come to her.
He took a sip of wine, he was back in business.

Shani
02-20-2010, 12:26 AM
Satine stopped and looked at him for a moment, "I said I was sorry, Sir. Accidents do happen." She stated then looked back down and continued to clean. "No, Sir, I'm not new. I have been here longer than you could ever know." She stated, not trying to sound disrespectful. "I know they would." she said then she murmured "I'll get fussed about it later." After a moment of silence

"You don't have to help me you know. It was my culmsy mistake." She said still drubbing the floor. Oh great Tasanee. she thought as she looked over at the angery man and noticed her.

sneakyonfoota
02-20-2010, 05:38 PM
Back in the foyer, several minutes before the current time.

With a slight grunt, Amon rose to his feet and smoothed the creases out of the front of his frock coat. "Well, you've your marching orders," he said.

Anais made a face. "Hm? Leaving me to do the dirty work?"

"Tch. Oh please. While it pains me to not be there to properly congratulate dear Tasanee, I fear that familial interests simply cannot be ignored." As if on cue, the steely-eyed, dark-haired man in glasses stood in the doorway leading back to the ballroom, pushing back the bridge of his specks while giving Amon a cutting leer. He took a step forward and then said over his shoulder, "I'll find you two later, if you don't happen to wander back to the dance floor." Then took his leave, striding at a leisurely pace back to the ball room.

Anais frowned and stuck her tongue out at Amon's back as he strode away. Feeling a cold prick, she noticed cousin Lucian's gaze focus on her, to which she returned in kind with a wide grin and a flipped bird.

rabbit
02-20-2010, 11:21 PM
Marcy Hatten-Stevens

“Aah!” The brunette was about to say… Something, she couldn’t remember now, when Tanasee had, with a disapproving look in her eyes, suggested that the confrontation be taken elsewhere. Marcy’s chest puffed slightly with pride, but a moment later, all anger drained out of her and she blinked, startled – even though fighting like this was unlike her, being so… Not angry in the middle of an argument was even more unlike her.

“Fine,” she submitted and took Shiraz’s hand, walking past the teens in front of her, out of the library’s doorway, but not towards the main ballroom either. Marcy looked down at Shiraz, then gently squeezed his hand in a way that she hoped he understood meant, “Be strong.”

They came to what she assumed would be called “The Blue Room” which appeared to be a simple sitting room decorated in shades of blue and other light colors. A few paces into the room, she turned to face Tanasee and Amir. Marcy’s pale shoulders weren’t quite as squared and rigid as before and her brown eyes no longer held any hostility.

“Honestly, I don’t want to argue anymore, I just don’t understand why it matters. Shiraz was only enjoying himself, and it wasn’t like there were any adults to criticize him, anyways. He was bothering no one.” The brunette shook her head slowly and her eyes went from Shiraz to Tanasee to Amir. Actually looking at his young man before her, she almost regretted picking a fight and raising her voice as she had. The brunette removed her mask and ran her fingers through her long hair without a snag, tips brushing against her bare back, making her shiver subtly in the awkward moment of her surrender.

----

Duncan Whitburg

“Just go,” Duncan sighed with a shake of his head. “Don’t get yelled at for lagging, too. And don’t worry; I won’t mention this to anyone.” The floor cleaned, Duncan placed the alcohol-soaked rag on Satine’s tray along with the last few bits of glass.

He blinked, surprised as the music changed and people started to crowd the dance floor below; someone had draped scarves over standing lamps in a cliché manner, dimming the lights even more in the room. Taking the last sip of his beer, Duncan placed the empty bottle on a table near the books and quickly made his way down the stairs to the main part of the library. He pushed through the mass of bodies near the center of the room whose combined heat was starting to make the temperature in the library rise.

Duncan assumed a spot by the bay windows, which were starting to fog, and watched the dancing young people with a small smirk on his face – this was an entirely different side of them, rather than what they were like with their parents.

Honey
02-21-2010, 03:34 PM
Alastrina let out a small sound of relief as people crowded together on the dance floor. The atmosphere changed easily as it was apt to do when parents weren’t around and she smiled, moving away from the stereo system and survey the room. She stumbled entire body stiffening as she righted herself, her eyes swept through the room as she tried to identify the… something that she felt. It was oddly familiar yet unknown and slightly off from what she thought would make it hers. Her brow furrowed irritably, as she tried to understand what that meant.

She gave a muttered oath, placed both hands over her face and took a slow calming breath. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking of such things, it was a party, she was supposed to be having fun. And I will, she thought dropping her hands to snag a glass from the tray of a passing waiter. She paused with the glass at her lips then pulled it back to squint through her mask at the contents.

“Well, that was almost hugely embarrassing.” She murmured handing the champagne to a different waiter. She rarely drank and as such was a terrible light weight, so she made a point not to consume any alcohol at an event to prevent herself from accidently getting drunk.

Honey
02-21-2010, 03:36 PM
Alastrina let out a small sound of relief as people crowded together on the dance floor. The atmosphere changed easily as it was apt to do when parents weren’t around and she smiled, moving away from the stereo system and survey the room. She stumbled entire body stiffening as she righted herself, her eyes swept through the room as she tried to identify the… something that she felt. It was oddly familiar yet unknown and slightly off from what she thought would make it hers. Her brow furrowed irritably, as she tried to understand what that meant.

She gave a muttered oath, placed both hands over her face and took a slow calming breath. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking of such things, it was a party, she was supposed to be having fun. And I will, she thought dropping her hands to snag a glass from the tray of a passing waiter. She paused with the glass at her lips then pulled it back to squint through her mask at the contents.

“Well, that was almost hugely embarrassing.” She murmured handing the champagne to a different waiter. She rarely drank and as such was a terrible light weight, so she made a point not to consume any alcohol at an event to prevent herself from accidently getting drunk.

sneakyonfoota
02-21-2010, 09:41 PM
Shoes dangling by their straps in one hand, Anais set out rather aimlessly.

Fruitless wandering: the expedition is thus far a drain of manpower and supplies, captain, concluded the inner H.M. Stanley within Tasanee. Abandon all hope, we're leaving our dead where they lie. Never again will we be seeing the white cliffs of Dover. Tell wife that I love her. Pray for Mojo.

Non sequiturs aside, the inside of Siran's main house was no wilderness or mystery to Anais. Trying to find a specific person amongst the many guests and acquaintances, however, proved to be trying. She might as well have been in Darkest Peru.

She rounded a corner and recognized the door that led to the library. She could hear the music and chatter of young people from within.

Ah. Thae wee 'uns.

Her eyes glinted when she saw her mark exit from the library and nearly moved in to pounce until she noted that Tasanee was not alone. Along with Prince Abubu, that Hatten-Stevens girl and a bite-sized bairn, the four proceeded in another direction toward a sitting room. Anais pressed herself against the wall to avoid being in plain sight and then peered around the corner down the hall.

She padded slowly towards them, though remaining out of view--grateful now despite how cold the soles of her feet were.

Oh-ho? What do we have here?

Shani
02-22-2010, 03:56 AM
Satine stood back up. She had done and said enough, now all she could do was nod her head in agreement. She took her tray and though it looked as though she was gone she was in fact still there whatching him, not in a creepy way and it was only for a few minutes. She watched him leave the bottle, so she grabbed it and prosicced back to the kitchen.Great the first time I get to speak to a cute boy, I almost spill achohol on him. Shs thought. Satine looked up at the clock, That took up more time then she thought of would, her time was almost up.
Now whatever else happened, was someone elses problem She grabbed her bag and headed for a back room. Marie came running through and stopped her,"Where do you think your going? We still need you." She fussed at her. " My hour is almost up, I have a few minutes to get dressed and relocate Tasanee. By her orders I'm to return once the hour is up." She stated, and brushed past her. "But Satine," Marie called, huffed, and then frowned. Satine got back in her dress, fixed her hair and makeup, then put her mask back on. Once she was finished she rehid her bag and went to find Tasanee.

Mockingjay
02-23-2010, 03:50 AM
Women. He hated women with every fiber of his being sometimes. Don't get him wrong, he found women beautiful and lovely and what not, but they were so indecisive with their emotions. One moment they were ready to maul you, the next they were in tears. Especially this brunette girl, who he didn't know the name of. At first she stood before him proudly defending her actions, and as soon as the group walked into the Blue Room, she blinked out of it. All of a sudden she wanted to make amends.

“Honestly, I don’t want to argue anymore, I just don’t understand why it matters. Shiraz was only enjoying himself, and it wasn’t like there were any adults to criticize him, anyways. He was bothering no one.”

And then suddenly a wave of calm came over him too. An ocean's worth, he suddenly felt relaxed and... peaceful. His shoulders relaxed, and he slouched a bit.

"I understand," he said to her. "Just, try to tell me before you relocate my brother."

Amir turned to the boy who was shielding a part of his body behind the young woman. "Shiraz," he said to him, "You are a prince. Understand that your security means the world your kingdom. When you go somewhere, you have to tell an adult first."

Shiraz shook his head fervently, but hid himself a bit more behind the lady. Amir would have to tie this up somehow, and make sure his brother understood he was forgiven. Children were weird like that. They always want to be in someone's favor. They hated anything with conflict and constantly sought security. Here, Shiraz found safety behind the brunette. To Shiraz, he was in this woman's favor. Didn't he know that Amir loved him just as much? Didn't he KNOW?

Amir held out his hand to Shiraz, but the child was reluctant to take it. Only after a nudge from the woman did the boy take a few steps toward his brother.

Amir knelt down to eye-level with the child and pulled out the truck. "Truce?" he said to him.

Again, the boy nodded, and he grabbed the truck. But what upset Amir a bit was that Shiraz fled behind Marcy again. How could Shiraz have been so afraid of Amir? It hurt him to know that the one person he loved was frightened of him. Like a monsoon, guilt flooded his system.

Minkasha
02-26-2010, 04:20 AM
"Oh honey" he watched her with high brows. "Looks like I'll have to show this woman how to get drunk and still wear heels" he held Alastrina's wine glass. Monsieur stupéfiant meandered through the crowd looking at everyone. Watching Amir and Marcy with his Fairy senses. Maybe they could be something.

But his eyes were on someone else. It was like he was on a magical island, and on this island were many hot and yummy boys. Sadly these wielders of delicious swords were after something he did not posses. These stick warriors like to fight the monsters in the front cave.

He swung his tray lightly to the other side as he looked at Duncan, the servant body. "I have a few tasks he could work on" he gave a light hiss.

"...I know I know, no touchy on the straight guy 'targets'" he sighed, he wanted to smoke a cig really bad. Yet he must stay in character. Walking up the Duncan as he sat at the window his acting being to shine...beautifully.

"Sir Witburg" he said in his most eloquent and respectful tone. "A gift has been presented to you" he lowered himself yet held the wine tray perfectly balanced on his finger tips as it was above his head. "A Miss Basina Anais Caroligne sent this in hopes of future communication"

A blatant lie.

But, things could work out just fine; all it would require is a little magic.

Using his Fairy abilities he sent inside Duncan and Anais a magical seed. As a more metaphysical item should sit inside them, and upon eye contact the two should be willing to talk. The more he used his magic, the easier it became for other fairies nearby to detected him or even become fully aware he is doing it. With luck perhaps clumsy Alastrina might just approach him and ask what it was about him that allured her to him. But he knew his powerful sexual magnetism could do the trick, a smirk.

Yet everything is speculation. For all he knew one could be under the effect and one completely resistant. This would be very disastrous.

But of course he was covered; he could easily claim it to be a 'mistake'. He smirked inside.

sneakyonfoota
02-27-2010, 03:22 AM
A hollow *clatter* and a *clunk*.

Anais hoped that nobody heard her drop her shoes. The feeling came so suddenly that she didn't have the time to react when she doubled over.

Ugh... What... What the hell was that?

She clawed at her stomach, wrinkling her dress as her gloved fingers twisted the silk fabric over her gut.

Ugh... Maybe... I should have paid Dr. Russ a call after all...

She could feel the saliva pooling in the back of her mouth--an early warning sign.

Oh, no you don't... Hang in there, Annie! You're no lightweight freshman! Think of that damn smirk that Amon will wear if he finds out. Think of the pitying glare of that asshole Lucy--wait, who cares what he thinks. It's not like you live with that rainbow butt-monkey, thank God.

"Oh deary-me," she could imagine Amon saying.

"I really can't leave you alone, can I?" he would say.

"About time to act your age, isn't it?"

Anais swallowed and waited, focusing on the events transpiring in the Blue Room, taking her attention away from her current condition.

C'mon... mind over matter... Three, two, one... Are we cool?

The feeling subsided slowly and then finally settled. She couldn't help but sigh in relief.

We cool.

She glanced down at her shoes, swept them against the wall with her foot and then peered back down the hall.

Aw. How touching, deadpanned Anais internally, witnessing Abdul Abubul Amir reconciling with the rest. A real Kodak moment, not that she'd waste the space on her memory card--there wasn't even anything going on there to waste a Polaroid exposure.

After a quick primp with a compact mirror and reclaiming her shoes, she decided to make her grand appearance at last.

She strode into the Blue Room with decided nonchalance (perhaps a little too nonchalant...) and said with arms spread wide, "Tasanee! Dahling!"



~


...What is this feeling? Amon wondered. It felt like a bolt of something struck him behind the eyes. A pinch of nerves... was this what father felt when he had his stroke?

A voice called out, it could have been a hundred miles away, "--Childeric!"

Amon glanced lazily.

"Childeric!"

And then blinked, snapping back into reality after the queer sensation had ebbed and faded.

Lucian's brow was knitted and his eyes narrowed. He bent close to Amon and hissed, "Prêtez-vous attention?"

Amon stared for a moment, wearing a wearied, thoughtful expression on his face before tilting his head to the side slightly and smirking. "Certainement," he said, flashing his best sourire d'Amon and then sipped his champagne. "J'écoute tout des mots."

Hm. Perhaps this evening has been more taxing on him than he thought. He hoped that dear Anais and Tasanee were at least having fun.



L: "Are you paying attention?"
A: "Why, yes. I'm hanging on every word."

rabbit
03-01-2010, 12:04 AM
Marcy Hatten-Stevens

Like I knew he was your brother, she thought, but nodded her head nonetheless, crossing her arms loosely over her stomach. Marcy watched the exchange between Shiraz and Amir, head tipping to the side slightly. She felt bad she’d come between the boys, even though she’d only meant for Shiraz to have some fun.

Uncrossing her arms, she gave Shiraz an encouraging nudge toward his elder brother, whose hand was outstretched. She murmured, “Go on,” in a hopefully encouraging way.

Marcy watched Amir kneel, offer the truck back to his younger brother, who only took it in truce and fled behind her; surprised, the brunette wobbled slightly on her heels and looked behind her at the child, brown eyes wide and displaying her emotions. Looking back at Amir, she saw the guilt flood into his eyes and a heavy knot settled in the pit of Marcy’s stomach.

“Oh, God,” she said under her breath and moved, kneeling beside Shiraz, her hands placed gently on his shoulders. “Shiraz, don’t be afraid of your brother, all right? This was just a misunderstanding.”

Her fingers moved under the child’s chin and she kissed his cheek softly and briefly, then drawing away to smile at him. “Everything’s ok now and thank you for dancing with me, Shiraz. Won’t you go with your brother now?”

Still on the little boy’s level, she raised her eyebrows, looking to him, then Amir.

----

Duncan Whitburg

Duncan had felt eyes on him for a few times in one moment and he frowned just slightly, glancing around the room. His eyes fell on a waiter, one he didn’t recognize – which automatically made him suspicious, but then again, he hadn’t recognized the girl from earlier, either – and Duncan watched as the man came over, stride slightly more confident than a normal waiter’s would be – strike two.

As the waiter spoke, his tone was respectful, but it set off Duncan’s fake-o-meter, which many people tended to at parties like this, but usually not the help. The young man nodded and tucked his hands into his pants pockets.

“Basina Anais Caroligne? Name’s familiar, but… I can’t put a face to it at the moment. Anyway, how kind of her... So, what is it? A good year?” The young man inclined his head just slightly, plucking the glass of wine off the waiter's tray, hating the façade he was putting off through it all. The son of a popularly acclaimed and well-off doctor was who Duncan just had to be sometimes.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other and shifting his hips, a strange sense of... Well, the only way he could describe it was wanting to interact. Perhaps it was just the energy of the party going on around them?

Minkasha
03-03-2010, 05:04 AM
"I do hope you enjoy your drink, sir" he raised back to a standing position. Looking down to Duncan he slightly nodded before walking off. Now that he had things moving it was now time to find his good old friend that left him alone back in the limo when this all started.

All he had to do was feel her out. Using his senses began to walk through the couples once more searching for the tipsy light weight about to be fairy godmother.