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JOLY Technicolor-Werewolf SISTER SITES  
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| Viewing Single Post From: The Sea of Smiles | |
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| Skazka | Jun 24 2009, 03:31 PM |
all the ships go down/following the sound
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She held too tight to the Judge's side, for the sake of the devil she knew. His fingers pinched. This dress was a farce, swathes and swathes of white like a painted lady's wedding cake. Her bosom was piled high, like food on a platter, too much sound and colour and loud and tight-- she wasn't happy here. Too many birds in a single cage would peck each other to pieces. Johanna Barker, ward of the court, immortal dove, was shrieking inside at the top of her voice. Anthony needed to sweep in those doors, now, and remove her from this place. "I don't feel quite well." She batted her eyelashes guilelessly up at her guardian, brushing at the waist of her gown in a way she hoped implied obscure feminine troubles, or childlike weakness. -- "And why would that be, cherub?" He had to lean in, to purr in her ear. To an outside eye, this would seem a mundane conversation, an ordinary pairing. Turpin's fingers dug through lace and glass beading. No squirming away from him now. Not sharp enough of pressure to leave a mark. He was a gentleman, after all. Standing at his side, she looked like the avenging spectre of her mother. Or like an intended bride. The Judge kept one eye on the doors, watching sharp for streetwise sailor boys. --- Bal masque. Now this was an occasion Herbert could become involved in. How exciting. There had been handful of festive occasions at Schloss Krolock in vague, ephemeral memory-- mostly with vague assemblages of guests they'd managed to collect over the year. They had been costumed as well, when it seemed tasteful. And of course, he'd read. This particular Lucifer wore white. White and gold, which ordinarily wouldn't work for his particular coloration, but the effect was striking. Pearl buttons, and a proud cut-out of a mask perched on a stick. Places for seeing through, almond-shaped and lending his eyes an exotic look. Beneath the mask, he was pale, quite pale. A pair of small, barely distinguishable horns twined with his hair, the colour of mahogany. He felt like Alexander. A little too refined to pass for the Prince of Darkness, even if the costume evidenced suitable pride for the part. He ought to have gone as a monster. It was as if he'd indulged already; drunk on looks and caresses and touches. Endless flutes of champagne on the offer, and he was feeling excitable and giddy after just one. The night's energy channelled into him, like a lightning rod. One particular head of fair hair distracted him, but was just as soon, gone. Time for more wine. |
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| The Sea of Smiles · In Character | |
| Theme: Darkness |
 8:26 PM Nov 28
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