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Post by Ryan on Nov 18, 2006 12:59:29 GMT -5
Literate-Advanced
Alright, these are brief rules, because this is literate and advanced and I believe you should know and understand the rules. -> Please stick to the time period. It's not medieval, it's the 1700's. -> It's in England. -> Literate to advanced people. I stress this. -> I made this on my own, so no copying. -> Lets not have anymore than one or two princes or princesses and the same for assassins. I can't the whole board filled with assassins planning on killing the King, Queen and their child. I may add rules so watch out. Now for my intro!
Colors of pink, blue and purple swirled in the sky like a painting as the sun slowly lowered beyond England's rolling hills. Darkness had soon overcome the bright, joyous land, stars and moon the only light seen for miles and miles to come among the mountains...but if you traveled enough miles you'd come across a light. Maybe it was more than one, however many there were, they bound together.
It was bright, and if you followed it to it's beginning point, you'd find a large mansion like estate. Peering through the large glass windows you'd see people rushing around carrying items. Some even seemed to be...oh were they decorating? How nice.
Inside this big estate servants and maids ran about, cleaning up, decorating and preparing for the night to come. The night to come? What is to come? Why a Masquerade Ball o'course.
Up a grand staircase and down the hall, then a sharp right could take you to a shut door. This door so happenly was the door to the Queen and King's room. The room where even more women prepared the royalty for their ball. A ball being held as a celebration for their first born child, a beautiful baby girl.
Only the best of the best had been invited, and soon they were to arrive. Final preparations were sending the Queen into a spasm, so lightly yells and outbursts could be heard from outside the door. Unable to stand her worry-screeches, a servant had the band begin to play, making another excuse for their early beginning.
The wheel bounced the carriage around on the dirt as the horses with their gallant manes and tails pulled the carriage with all its strength up to a estate. The man outside the cart cracked a whip constantly over their heads to make sure their movement was smooth and quick. Inside were 2 women and 2 men. It was obvious the older of each gender were married, as fine jewels were embedded into the rings they wore on their ring fingers, but the younger two of each gender looked alike and one older than the other. If you studied closely you'd see they were a family. A father, mother, a son and the youngest of them all, a daughter.
The daughter was quite young too, but fit to be married. She had not too long ago reached her mid-twenties. And although her body seemed younger, her mind was older. This you could only tell when you spoke with her.
Brown wavy curls were held away by a silky pink ribbon, but smaller hairs fell into her face, shaping its heart shape. Blue eyes wore long, dark lashes, and nose and rosy cheeks invited freckles over to play. Pink lips curved into a smile, as dainty hands pulled a small pink mask to her face.
Like the ribbon in her hair and the mask on her face, her dress was a dainty pink with a light gold lining. Her dress swooped down to the beginning of her chest and had pink tight fabric. Every stitch made was overridden by a gold lacey fabric. A triangle (vertex pointing to the floor) was in the middle of her front and was made of a ruffled white material. Her sleeves covered 1/4 of her arm, then had lace layered underneath. At her waist, her dress spread out to the floor.
She sparkled with beauty and grace and her brother took her arm. He too had quite the dashing look. Brown hair was pulled from his face into a small ponytail from a small piece of ribbon. Blue eyes, were also big and wide like his sister's, but his eyelashes weren't so long and dark. Jonathan enjoyed the latest style. So, he of course, wore it to the masquerading event.
He slipped on his mask as the porter announced their title along with their parents titles. When finally eyes were off them, the young lady slipped from her brother's grasp, obviously not too fond of her brother.
How beautiful the night seemed as she knew it would slip from her grasp. She prepared herself for a night to remember, hoping for only the best. -Done-
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Post by Bianca on Nov 18, 2006 14:00:37 GMT -5
A Masquerade ball. It was quaint, to be sure, and no doubt enjoyable. The ton saw it to be fashionable, so, therefore, the rest of England did as well. In fact, the English quite enjoyed festivities, and on this night, there were festivities all around. Dancing, drinking, and merry-making. All of that nonsense that was so pointless, yet…so enjoyable.
At least, enjoyable to most.
After all, all of the attendees were not of English decent. In fact, one was quite renowned for being a -how did they put it, this fashionable group?- scheming Frenchie. Who is the woman in question? Who else but Lady Rene Dubois. Lady Rene was a widow of a mere twenty-three, a Countess, and a rumored murderer. The latter came from the fact that, a year before, her husband of an hour (the late Earl), had dropped dead while in the process of stepping into his carriage, his new bride in tow. In exactly twenty-four hours, she had gone from ‘daughter of an impoverished baron’ to ‘Wealthy Countess who could be married’. Which, of course, attracted all sorts of poor-as-dirt fools. So she set to dissuade them. For one, she became rather eccentric. She spoke rather callously, being rather rude and/or brutally honest. She dressed in fashions usually preferred by courtesans, which explained her costume. A black gown, with skirts of superfine material and silk, edged by an overskirt of Venetian lace, also black. Her bodice was low-cut and made to force her breasts upwards becomingly and had ribbons worked through it in eye-catching patterns. Ribbons that matched dangled from her slim wrists, head of white-blond hair, and one was wrapped around her slim neck, as well. To complete the outfit, a small domino was perched on her nose, doing little to conceal her face. In fact, it encircled her eyes, which were a rather lovely bottle green, and brought the fine detail of her face out, giving voice to why she had managed to catch an Earl. Lady Rene was far from ugly. -
Almost directly across the room, one of those nasty Englishmen stood. His name? Viscount Lyonnais. Also known as Kisten Tregallows. Also known as A certain Lady’s only cousin. By marriage, at least. A rather dashing fellow, if one asked any one of those debutants, and wealthy and wanted to boot. He was marriageable, young, and darkly colored in a handsome sort of way. Black hair a touch too long for fashion hung in a curly cloud around his face, framing the rather attractive and angular oval, bringing out the jovial blue of his eyes. He was dressed, quite nicely, in England’s latest style: Breeches, Hessians, a cravat, waistcoat, and jacket. The first mentioned were black, the fourth and fifth mentioned a dark blue. His cravat was white, as fashion deemed necessary, and his Hessians a well-polished black. All very fitting, giving view to the Viscount’s height and well-shaped form. A black mask covered the upper portion of his face, therefore placing him in the Masquerade, though he wasn’t exactly costumed as anything. Though he ahd just arrived, a glass of red wine was cupped in his hand, half drained, and his third of the evening. He would, no doubt, be enjoying many, many more. Why? He was here at the insistence of his mother, who was somewhere in the room, hunting out a bride for him. 1. He was to observe the ladies and hopefully find one to wed 2. The honor the Royal family 3. The make sure his scheming harlot of a cousin did nothing to shame the family. In truth, Kist was having a horrid time at all three. He’d rather be gone, perhaps at White’s, enjoying a cheroot and a glass of brandy. However, his mother was a rather fierce dragon. He’d not hear the end of it if he left. So, here he stood. Alone in his unvoiced misery.
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Post by Ryan on Nov 18, 2006 14:28:04 GMT -5
Jonathan Maggio watched as his sister disappeared from sight, not at all disturbed that his mother was now franctically searching for her. His mother was walking circles around him, muttering words nastily about her daughter and how if she was aloud to choose her own groom, she'd certainly disgust the family. It just goes to show you how fond his mother is of his sister's taste. He tutted, hands rested behind his back. His mother felt quite the oppisite about him. Infact, he was sure she favored him. She never kept an eye on him and always insisted to his father that he was able to choose a bride responsively and before he got too old. He would never say anything, but really, he hadn't an idea of what kind of lady he liked. 'One that won't be like mom.' he thought, rolling his eyes at his mother and walking off into the crowds.
He began to wander, heading towards the wine area when he spotted someone that he'd never thought he'd see. Lady Rene, the woman many rumored killed her husband. The woman his mother despised but had never met. And for some odd reason he felt the need to approach and introduce himself. He tried to tell his legs to stop moving, but they wouldn't listen. He'd get in trouble in so many ways and his mother'd never trust him again. He could imagine her now....".....And the fact you even spoke with her! The shame son! She's a murder! Hear me? I....."....but his legs wouldn't stop until he reached his destination.
"Lady Rene Dubois? I'm Jonathan Richard Maggio. It's a pleasure to meet you." ------------------------
She could hear her mother, calling her name, but her voice got smaller and smaller as she distanced herself. She could have care less about who her mother wished to set her up with. For some reason, at every Masquerade, her mother was determined to help her search for a future husband, and in every way her mother failed. So, this time, she fled from her mothers view to search in her own way, on her own. Hoepfully she'd be a bit more successful than her mother was.
She made her way over to the wine. Somebody was always at the wine table, of course, not every man here was beautiful.
A reason her mother hated her to choose on her own; she had her own taste. Her taste for men was quite different then the normal liking. Her mother constantly insisted that she needed to get a grip on life and stop pretending ugly men were handsome in her eyes. She also constantly said that she was a digusting little lady.
She went to the table and steadily picked up a glass, turning and sipping the wine. Red wine. A personal favorite of hers. It was odd how they always seemed to serve red wine at Masquerades, or at least this was applied to the ones she had attended.
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Post by Bianca on Nov 18, 2006 15:12:47 GMT -5
Rene was less then thrilled. Nonetheless, when the man who approached her sang out his calling, she sank into an elegant curtsy, offering him a bright smile. “Comment beau vous rencontrer…il est si rare de rencontrer un idiot anglais.” Her quick use of French sounded slightly sarcastic, but then she added in heavily accented English “A pleasure, dear sir. You appear to know who I am, so I’ll refrain from voicing my title.”
Ah, that dry sarcasm. She rose from her curtsy, hand moving upwards to fix her mask and then tuck one of her loose curls behind her ear. Her smile was in place, politely vacant as she observed the man before her. After a minute or so of silence, she arched a brow and asked “Is there something, sir, I might assist you with? Have you lost your way? Looking for someone? Or are you here to merely observe and speculate?” She flicked a fan out, the covering also black, and began to wave it idly, eyes moving from Mr. Maggio to the crowd behind him.
After a moment, the green orbs moved back to him as the beginnings of a waltz began to fill the chamber. “Well, you might do a lady a service and ask her to dance..” She murmured silkily. T’was one way to rid herself of these annoying folk: They always balked and fled when she mentioned something that would show any sort of association between them. Once again, she arched her brows, tipping her head to the side. After a year of being a social pariah, she could all but predict his rejection. And then she’d be left in some sort of peace until the next idiot made he way towards her to stare.
- Kisten had finished his glass, and, too his credit, had waited a minute or two before fleeing to the wine table to fetch another. He dropped the glass next to the other empty ones that had been deposited throughout the evening, then fetched himself a new glass of the fine liquid. Taking a hefty sip, he cast his glance to the woman approaching. High class, and rather pretty looking. A twitch of his lips suggested a smile was coming on, and he took a sip of his wine to hide it: He always felt the compulsive need to smile when he saw debutants feeling to the wine table.
When she had settled herself with a glass, he approached, pausing a step before her to sink into a shallow bow. Righting himself, he inclined his head. “Good evening. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, Miss..?” He trailed off, taking another sip of his wine. As it was his fourth glass, he was already beginning to feel the pleasant effects of it: A light tingling in his head, and a settling of relaxation and calmness. He wasn’t drunk, he wasn’t tipsy…but he was quite near to the latter. A smile grew as he finished the glass, then turned for another one.
It was as he was awaiting her reply (for it had not yet been a minute), a familiar tune of a waltz struck up. Sipping his drink, he tipped his head to the side…and caught sight of someone he did not want to see: He dearest, most loving mother. “Oh, damn it all..” He muttered, then shot the woman before him a rather apologetic look. “Forgive me if I’m forward, what would you do me the honor of saving me with a dance? I promise not to step on your toes..” Without waiting for a reply, he whisked her glass away and deposited it on the table, then practically dragged the poor girl onto the floor with other elegantly clad couples.
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Post by Ryan on Nov 18, 2006 15:42:53 GMT -5
Jonathan could hear the sarcastic tone in her voice, it sounded a lot like his sister's. So just like he ignored his sister's sarcastic remarks, he ignored hers. He did raise an eyebrow at her mutter, something about dancing 'eh? He smirked ina happy way. "Hmmm, you beat me to the topic before I could reply." He bowed and held out his hand, open and ready to take hers in his own. "Would you like a dance?"
His on sarcasm sprouted from his mouth, and quite intentionally too. He normally wasn't so sarcastic but she broguth it on herself. (can't think of what else to say. -.-) ------------
"Daniela, Daniela Christine Maggio."
Her voice was a bit quiet, if her mother heard her she would know just where to find her. That, would not be good.
The man seemed sweet but very quick as he spoke. He seemed to want to get away from the wine table as he dragged her to the dance floor before she could answer. She smiled when he stopped and the music began.
"I'm not worried you will step on my toes to be honest, I'm worried you pull my arm off."
Daniela smiled as she took his hands and let the music run through her. Her feet began to move, dress swishing against the ground as she twirled and spun. Her eyes were shut but not tight, very light and relaxed.
"So, might I ask who you are?"
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Post by Bianca on Nov 18, 2006 16:09:28 GMT -5
“You’ve brought it upon yourself..” Was her reply, and with an elegant snap she shut her fan, slipped the ribbon it was attached to ‘round her wrist, then accepted his hand with a polite little curtsy. Her smile had gone from politely vacant to…well, a real smile. It was actually very rare that someone danced with her, and…well, it was nice.
So, as they stepped out towards the floor, she asked "I'm dying of curiosity...are you doing this to be nice, to be an ass, or because you want to?" She arched a brow, setting her other hand on his shoulder as dancers began to take their positions all around them.
- Kisten smiled slightly apolgetically at her mention of her arm. "So sorry. I was avoiding someone.." He let out a laugh. "Not that I don't want to dance with you, of course.." He laughed again, shaking his head. "Sorry. I'm quite terrible." With a loud exhale, he straightened.
"Um...Viscount Lyonnais.Also known as Kisten Tregallows, which I prefer very much.." When he noted her name, he laughed again. "I...I've met your brother, I believe. Several times. He's an...an.." After a moment, he settled on the socially acceptable and polite "Intresting fellow.."
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Post by Bianca on Nov 18, 2006 16:15:53 GMT -5
“You’ve brought it upon yourself..” Was her reply, and with an elegant snap she shut her fan, slipped the ribbon it was attached to ‘round her wrist, then accepted his hand with a polite little curtsy. Her smile had gone from politely vacant to…well, a real smile. It was actually very rare that someone danced with her, and…well, it was nice.
So, as they stepped out towards the floor, she asked "I'm dying of curiosity...are you doing this to be nice, to be an ass, or because you want to?" She arched a brow, setting her other hand on his shoulder as dancers began to take their positions all around them.
- Kisten smiled slightly apolgetically at her mention of her arm. "So sorry. I was avoiding someone.." He let out a laugh. "Not that I don't want to dance with you, of course.." He laughed again, shaking his head. "Sorry. I'm quite terrible." With a loud exhale, he straightened.
"Um...Viscount Lyonnais.Also known as Kisten Tregallows, which I prefer very much.." When he noted her name, he laughed again. "I...I've met your brother, I believe. Several times. He's an...an.." After a moment, he settled on the socially acceptable and polite "Intresting fellow.."
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Post by Ryan on Nov 18, 2006 16:32:15 GMT -5
"Because I want to. If I didn't want to, I would have left you when you became sarcastic. Good thing my sister's almost as sarcastic as you and I can get around it." he stated with a smile.
His feet began to move beneath him as he pull Lady Rene along, twirling and spinning her simotaneously with the other couples. And as he did this he spotted his mother shifting throughout. His first instinct was to pull Lady Rene off to another dancing location, but he soon saw she was not after him, but Daniela. "Poor Daniela." he muttered, watching his mother storm off the dance floor in a humph.
"Have men asked you to dance to be asses?" he asked otu of curiousity. ------------ "Interesting?" she laughed lightly and smiled. "He's quite the oppisite of me actually. So if you honestly think he's interesting you must think I'm boring." she chuckled.
The music surrounded her and she couldn't think of a place she'd rather be....'til she heard her mothers shrill voice calling her name. She only hoped she couldn't see her. "Damn you woman." she muttered, staring over Kisten's shoulder.
"One question, were you hiding from your mother? If so, that's one thing we positively have in common."
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Post by Bianca on Nov 18, 2006 17:25:34 GMT -5
Rene considered his question with a small frown. Well…asses. Considering how most of them danced with her to see if she was insane, or to get her to have a tumble with them, she did consider the ‘gentlemen’ asses. At least most of them. And this one…well, she wasn’t sure yet. Perhaps he was an ass.
“You talk about your sister…would I have met her? Or does she avoid my type?” She trailed off, enjoying dancing for the moment. He was quite good at it, and the whole swirl (though she didn’t tend to enjoy it) was rather wonderful. “You dance rather well..” she commented, shifting her hand on his shoulder slightly. “Unlike most of the asses I end up dancing with.”
After another pause, she questioned “Why do you want to dance with me?”
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“Yes. She drags me here on the pretense of keeping my cousin out of trouble, but she just wants me to go find some proper bore of a girl to marry..” He laughed. “quite unlike you…as I don’t think you’re at all boring.” He glanced around, and then in turn spotted “Well, Rene…is…dancing..” His eyes widened. “With..” a laugh escaped him, and he spun her in a neat circle. And spotted his mother. Heading through the crowd.
Looking rather desperately at his partner, then back to his mother, he began to lead her through the twirling couples. “Can we escape to the garden? My dearest mum is coming, and…well, she looks quite pis-iritated.” Another laugh escaped him, this one uneasy. “I won’t force you this time, of course..” He added with a wry grin.
They were by the doors now, and he questioned “Well…what do you say?”
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Post by Ryan on Nov 18, 2006 17:53:57 GMT -5
"I don't know your type and I won't judge, but I'm not close to my sister, so I wouldn't know anyway." he said, shrugging his shoulders, feeling her hand there for the first time. He knew it was there, but for the first time he felt it. He hard her compliment and smiled. "Maybe it's because I actually want to dance with you. Usually I need motivation in order to dance well. Like when I had to dance with my Aunt Venna when I was 12, I couldn't dance, I could only think of getting away." he said with a grin from ear to ear.
He thought about her second question. 'That's a damn good question...' he thought as he thought over exactly why he wanted to dance with her. She was a widow and a rumored murderer, he needed to get a good reason so she wouldn't think he was another ass. He was enjoying this and if he worded his answer wrong, he'd be another one of the asses that didn't really care.
"Why? Well... to be honest, I looked over, saw you, and my feet pulled me over. My mind wasn't even thinking of dancing of with you, infact, my mind was trying to get my feet to stop walking. But I'm glad they didn't because if they had stopped, I never would have danced with you." he said. His eyes twinkled as he stared into her own. He felt touched by Cupid as he felt his hand on her hip and the other hand in hers. -------- "I say hurry, because here comes my mum. And she will not be happy with me." she said, scurrying out the door with Kisten. She laughed as she picked up the front of her dress and dragged Kisten along. Even as loud as she was laughing, her mother could be heard yelling "DANIELA CHRISTINE MAGGIO!" as they ran out.
She slowed as they got deeper into the garden and finally she stopped, catching her breath. She chuckled and hooked her arm in Kristen's. "Well, I can garuantee that I'm going to get an extrememly long lexture when I get home." she laughed. The night was making her heart pound with excitement, this was so....new to her. Running off with a man? That was looked down apon, good thing she wasn't running off from home, just from her mother.
"You mentioned your cousin. Who is she?"
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Post by Bianca on Nov 18, 2006 18:52:15 GMT -5
For a moment, perhaps two, she forgot to breathe. Honest. For one, she was touched by how honest he seemed. It was rare to find someone…anyone…who was so blatantly open, and…well, at man of any sort who seemed so open. When she did manage to speak , it was a soft, contained “Oh?” Inwardly, she winced at how…sarcastic it sounded. “You’re the first person since I’ve come to your country, besides my late husband, who has shown me genuine kindness. I thank you..” She inclined her head, offering him a wide, pretty smile.
She leaned a fraction closer. “To be honest, I’m glad that you offered to dance with me. I’ll be honest, and tell you that I was trying to be rid of you. Most of your…” She was prepared to say ’type’, but recalled how he had so gallantly refrained from stereotyping her. So she traded it for “Acquaintances…well, they seem to flee at the very mention. I’m supposedly a murderer, you see, so they believe I’ll have someone slip Nightshade into their wine while I distract them..”
A slight laugh escaped her, and she shook her head. “Most would call you a fool for trusting your life in my hands…” She was relaxing, finally, letting her guard down slightly. And -shockingly- she was suddenly aware that they were the spectacle at the moment. Many pairs of eyes were directed their way, and most gazes seemed mocking and spiteful. And, as the music died down, she had a surprising sense of loss. “Thank you…for dancing with me, my dear Mr. Maggio.”
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He was quite surprised when the slender girl was towing him from the ballroom into the garden, but he too laughed as they fled their mothers. “You mustn’t tell anyone I fled my mother’s presence..” He exclaimed as they came to a stop. When she linked her arm with his, he let his hand rest on her waist, feeling strangely flustered and at a loss for words. So, when she brought up his cousin, he pounced on the subject.
“By marriage, actually. She married an Uncle of mine, an Earl, and then he died, and…Well, Lady Rene Dubois. I’m sure you’ve heard f her…everyone has..” He shook his head. “she had the worst time, after he died…I felt quite horrible for her, especially because of my mother…she treated Rene like a charity case, though Rene has much more sense then my mother ever will..” He trailed off, then laughed slightly.
“I’m rambling. Do forgive me. Though, Rene was just waltzing with your brother, I believe.”
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Post by Ryan on Nov 18, 2006 20:28:54 GMT -5
He smiled, the music was dying down and inside he was panicing. He had to do something to keep Lady Rene's attention. He quickly decided he had to keep talking, maybe could sweep her away the the front of the estate where a porch and some lawn chairs were. "I'm afraid one of those people, who think that, will be my mother if she finds out. But worse enough she...." he quickly thought over what he wanted to say. "....doesn't like the rumors about you." he finished. It wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie either.
"Why don't we step over to the front. I here you can see for miles and miles when you stand out there. And maybe while we look, the clock will strike twelve." he said, gently picking up her hand, ready to sweep her away.
Twelve o'clock. It was the moment everyone took off their masks to reveal what laid beneath whether it be the love of your life, or an imposter. But the most important thing was trading masks. Trading masks? Why yes. At twelve, if you are with someone you are afraid you'll never see again, you trade masks, that way you both can remember each other. Some have been known to switch masks and later run into the person, the masks have been known to bring you closer to the person. Close enough to love...... ---------- She felt his hand on her hips, and she blushed, but it was unseen beneath her mask. She always couldn't speak when things like this happen. She finds a guy that she is happy with, she knows her mother won't approve, she gets close to him. She doubted her mother would approve. But what if she did? In her mother's head it would be better than Jonathan courting Lady Rene.
"Ah yes, I saw them. They both looked quite happy."
Her interest in her brother dropped, in shown through her voice.
"Rambling is fine. I do it often." she chuckled.
Butterflies fluttered about her stomach as she looked at Kisten. Daniela could only remember that soon she would see the man under the mask, and hopefully he'd be happy with what was under her own. She could only hope.
And maybe they'd trade masks. She didn't even know where he lived. Her head began to hurt and she sighed.
In a tired manner she leaned her head against him, sighing again.
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Post by Bianca on Nov 18, 2006 21:35:17 GMT -5
“Meet me there.” Was her reply, and then Rene was twisting through the crowd. He wanted to exchange masks with her. It was strange, meeting someone like this Jonathan. Someone she could relate to. Understand. Love?
Stepping onto the balcony, she found it surprisingly empty, all couples miraculously vanishing to the winds. A small smile formed on her lips, and she gave a giggle, spinning in a neat circle. Everyone seemed to picture has this aging crone, one who killed and had no heart. But she was barely more then a child, and, like every other girl, had hopes and dreams…
Stopping her twirl, she leaned against the railing, hands moving upwards to her hair, pulling pins from the elegant topknot. After a moment, a cascade of lovely hair fell around her shoulders, framing her face, and giving her a more youthful cast. Yes. She could love this strange man. This strange man she already adored.
-
He tipped his head to the side, looking down at the slender female at his side. A gusty sigh escaped him, and he reached out with his other hand. “Daniela…you are beautiful.” He murmured, touching the edge of her jaw. “I’m so glad I met you…and, in the last ten minutes, I feel more…kinship to you then to any other chit at this damned ball.” He exhaled loudly, hooking his arm around her waist. “what I’m truly trying to tell you..” He began, just as a chiming began to strike up. A laugh escaped him. “I’m going to..” He hand hooked around the edge of her mask as the third chime struck. He tugged the corner of her mask, and it came from her face quite easily. A smile grew on his face as he observed her for the merest of moments. “Daniela, I’m going to kiss you..”
And then he did.
(Beware the sappiness!)
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Post by Ryan on Nov 18, 2006 22:48:29 GMT -5
(I like the sappiness)
He watched her swerve through the crowds and this woman he now adored had disappeared amongst the crowds. His lips curved into....oh is that a smile? It broke though as his mother approached.
"Jonathan, there you are! I have been looking for your sister, have you seen her?", his mother irritable voice was only a hum in his ears as he shook his head, obviously paying no mind to his mother's presence. "Jonathan? Are you in some kind of daze? Or maybe it was that woman I saw with you?" she asked. What a nosey mother. He shrugged and ran off into the crowds, now prepared to catch up with the beautiful woman he...was he falling in love?
He ran until he got there. Excitement ran through his veins as he heard the clock strike once, it was time to see Lady Rene's gorgeous face. Then he'd...he'd kiss her! Yes. It was the way he'd win over her heart, although he was sure he'd already done that, he'd throw that in as his grand finale! He approached her, watching her lean against the railing.
"Lady Rene, you do know that the clock is soon to strike it's 12th strike don't you?" he smiled, walking up to her and pressing his body aginst hers. "And at that time we will lift off our masks and I will see the most beautiful face of come to see in many years." he whispered. Damn you Jonathan and your romantic ways. -------- She felt her mask being lifted from her face as he spoke.... “Daniela, I’m going to kiss you..” She prepared herself mentally as his lips pressed against her own. They felt so strange but so natural, so.....right? As if they were supposed to be there.
Fourth chime, fith, sixth, the numbers went on. She didn't pull back until the clock struck twelve. She smiled, reaching up to pull Kisten's mask off. She could hardly see, there wasn't enough light in the garden, but she knew that....that kiss was so right. They, belonged together. "I....." she tried to speak but she just couldn't say anything. So instead she brought her lips to his again as the cheering went on inside the estate, the Queen had brought out her child and the Masquerade was nearing the end.
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Post by Bianca on Nov 19, 2006 9:01:32 GMT -5
Rene watched him approach, her smile growing, pulse racing. A year of being shunned, ignored, and gossiped about was suddenly vanished, and she felt that, once again, she was just a girl, barely twenty-three, and that Jonathan -her wonderful Mr. Maggio- was the one. The one she had been waiting for, the one she had been looking for. And…and he had found her. At that thought, her smile grew even more, practically filling her whole face (though that did sound a tad grotesque).
At his touch, his front against her own, she positively melted. Straightening, she slid one hand onto his shoulder, the other one reaching to cup one of his, drawing it to her face. She lay his palm against her cheek, then reached up, fingers curling around the edge of his mask. Nine…ten…eleven… “Twelve. I hope you’re not too disappointed, Mr. Maggio.”
For a moment, time seemed to freeze. At least, it did for Rene. Rene, who was sure she was about to undergo the magic of a…well, not her first kiss. Nor her second, to be honest. “But you, dearest Jonathan, will always have the third..” Then, as the chime of the twelfth strike was wearing off, she peeled his mask from his face and tipped upwards on her toes to brush that coveted kiss to his lips.
-
At Daniela’s response, Kisten let his own eyes fall shut and gave way to the other four senses. She felt so wonderful, so perfectly fitted in his arms. One hand curled possessively against the small of her back, the other one moving from cupping her jaw to resting lightly on her collarbone, the warm heat of her skin making his own skin tingle.
He dipped his head, letting his mouth open against his lovely partner’s, and then he knew she tasted wonderful. Even her scent, something wonderful and feminine that he just couldn’t place, taunted him with it’s undeniable perfection. She was perfect. His Daniela Christine Maggio was perfect, and he never wanted to loose her, his little piece of heaven, his small slice of paradise.
As sounds of merrymaking grew louder from the baby’s presentation, Kisten broke their wonderful kiss, both hands abandoning their previous posts to cup her face, an adoring smile forming on his lips. “Daniela..I have not known you for more then an hour, yet…yet I know you are the most perfect woman in the world, and I cannot make myself leave before I tell you…” He trailed off with a gusty sigh. “Daniela, I think…no, I know I love you.”
And then he kissed her again.
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