Masquerade! Hide your face, so the world will never find you!

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

Saturday, October 31st
Evening
The Home of Alessandra Ferdis


The last few days have been, at best, a blur of activity and I can't say that it's left me in the best of spirits.  Party planning is always a chore, even a gathering as small as this, and I suppose it's the price to be paid - blood, sweat, and countless hours spent hunched over fabric - for an evening of excitement.  Alessandra has been more than accommodating, as I've measured, decorated, and almost completely reordered most of her house.  It will take some time, tomorrow once the festivities are well over, to put things back to sorts, but I've already hired hands to assist in that.

That is one benefit of living in Excolo, there is never a shortage of strong backs willing to do a bit of labor for good pay, and in a matter of days the entire place has been transformed into something resembling a fitting locale.  The walls have been covered with lush fabrics, the garden littered with a multitude of hanging lights, and the main room leading to the back cleared for the guests.  After that, it's only been a matter of setting up the refreshments, finding a suitable place for the music, and dimming the lights.

I could kill myself over the details of course, it's in my nature, and so as soon as things are well in hand, I retire to the upstairs guest suite to dress.  It's a simple design, more a personal amusement than anything else, and I doubt anyone will get the joke.  Those always are the best sorts of fun, though, the personal chuckles that are mine alone.  I finish strapping my sword to my side, mask still sitting on a nearby table, and cross to the balcony doors to peek outside.  The sun has faded into the horizon and guests have started to arrive.  That leaves me with a bit of time - I have no intention on making anything less than a memorable entrance - and so I lean against the door frame, careful to keep out of sight of those out front, and light a cigarette.

There's movement from the adjacent dressing room.  Glass.  I'd nearly forgotten, in the insanity of preparations, that she was dressing here as well.  It certainly wouldn't do to have Iago see her before the game has begun, after all.  I smile at that and call out, "You can't hide in there all evening, pet.  Might as well come out and let me have a look."

[Open]

[It's midnight!  Wrapping up!]

Comments

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

There's a rather humorous moment, standing in the doorway with my new friend on my arm and a veritable buffet of others to be found lounging in front of me, when I have the urge to pinch myself. Not dreaming, I know that much, but I have the sudden and distinct impression that I've died, finally died, and somehow wormed myself through the pearly gates. It makes me laugh, mouth hidden behind a gloved hand.

"Cerflun!" Glass calls out, lounging beside a dark and buxom angel with red hair. I could make a wager as to who it is, that is a figure that's hard to forget once you've become intimately acquainted, though it would ruin the game. "Get over here, 've something t'say and you aren't wanting it overheard.."

"I do so love a good secret" I all but purr, ridiculous smile still on my face. I wrap my arm around Boadicea's waist, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I have a guest at the moment. Would be rude-"

"And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all."

Oh, Wanda. I had hoped someone would get the reference, was delightfully surprised when people did, but to have it actually quoted...

"Please, all of you, join us. There is enough to go around."

Well, that settles it, doesn't it? I give a long-suffering sigh and look to the girl on my arm. "I've no choice, I'm afraid. Outnumbered. I stand no chance. Sad, really." I pull her along and all but sprawl on the various cushions with the others, head moving to Glass's lap and arm around Wanda's waist, pulling them both close. "I'm at your mercy," I tell the room in general before taking the offered pipe and lounging back to smoke.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Would be rude-" and I start to bristle when he says that, do you mind, but then he's sprawling along and down with the woman in leather and paint, making mockery of sadness, and that slow steadiness comes back t'me. "I've no choice, I'm afraid. Outnumbered. I stand no chance. Sad, really."

"Mhhhm, how you suffer," I say, squirming so I can see him, dim eyes half-lidded under the opium smoke. One hand on the side of his throat and the touch of him's pleasant cooler than my own flesh, smoky light warmth rather than a summer swelter, smooth slick skin under my fingers...

Sniff in exasperation, and take the pipe from him as he breathes out, hand it off to... oh, whoever. Squirm out from under him and down, shedding bright soft shards of feather along his shirt, hook one leg over his. "Penblwydd hapus, cerflun," I purr in his ear, grinning as I start pulling his shirt open, sliding my nails lightly over his skin.

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

Miao hugs my shoulder to comfort me, and I would hide my face in her neck, as if I could hide.. but I look up and over....

He's smiling at me. Like I gave him some sort of rare gift that he always wanted. I give him a small smile back as Miao invites him to join us.

He considers and sighs dramatically, before flopping down between Glass and I. Half reclined on Glass, he reaches over and pulls me closer, even with the Warrior Woman pulled down with him. I giggle happily, and nuzzle his neck with my lips as he takes his turn with the pipe. Glass moves and starts undoing his shirt...

"Wonderful party. Glad I didn't miss it." I whisper, nipping at his ear before running the tip of my tongue down the column of his throat.

[lei-miao-shan.livejournal.com]

The girl with flowers in her hair takes the pipe and lips it, but does not inhale, I do not think. And just as I had hoped, Dorian shows no animosity at all towards Wanda. In fact, he gleefully settles himself sprawled between both of them, hooking an arm around each waist to pull them closer. Neither wastes any time...Glass begins opening his shirt, and Wanda presses her face into his neck. It seems that all is well, and all is forgiven, and my heart is warmed by the sight.

I do not wish to interrupt them, so I draw myself a little back, deeper into the cushions. I would leave if I thought they desire privacy...but it is fairly clear that this is not a concern. So I settle back, eventually finding my cup of punch and sipping it, and I wait for the silver-haired girl to return the pipe.

[verite-belrose.livejournal.com]

Red death has a big grin on his face, guess he doesn't care too much if there's people or not. And he wraps his arm round my waist, saying something about having a guest and not being rude. But then other as are speaking up and he laughing gives in, but he's pulling me across the room with him to nestle in between and slightly on top of the feather woman who speaks like Glass, and the redhaired one who quoted something that is probably about his costume. one of the other girls hands him the pipe she holds and others greet him. Our host takes the pipe and sucks in smoke, easy as if he does it everyday.

No sooner are we settled in with him draped over Glass and arm around my waist and the other on the redhead, then Glass is squirming out from under. But not to get away, she settles on top of him pulling his shirt open and running her nails over him as if they were alone. I'm shocked at the sharp bite of anger. I was suppose to have my turn! So I take the pipe she's thrust into my hands and take a hard drag on it.

The red haired woman starts kissing his neck and says, "wonderful party. Glad I didn't miss it."

The smoke fills my lungs and body with something less biting, And I lazily run my free hand along the leg nearest me.

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

Glass squirms from under me and for a moment I think she'll leave, though for what possible reason I can't quite imagine. But no, she's stretched herself long against me, one leg thrown over mine, and whispering "Penblwydd hapus, cerflun." Her lips are teasing my ear, hand making quick work of my shirt until there's nothing but bare heated skin beneath grazing nails. I laugh and there's a growl to the sound as well, my hand running along her thigh to pull her closer still.

Before I can properly think of any other response, though, Wanda's moved to my other side, purring in my ear as well. "Wonderful party. Glad I didn't miss it." And her teeth graze my ear, her tongue skims my neck...

Well, as far as birthdays go, I would have to rate this one fairly high, all things considered. The thought makes me grin all the more, trapped between the two of them. I try for the pipe - no better fucking time - having to wiggle a bit and prop myself up to look after it, to see the warrior woman passing it along. Ah, well, it will be back, I suppose.

It's good to see her lounging there, smoke coming from her lips and, as my eyes trace the length of her arm, I know it must be starting through her system, that languid pull I've come to call friend. Her hand has moved to Glass's knee, some innocent effect of the punch and the smoke I'm sure.

"Ladies," I say, all mock-protest and half-hearted struggling. "I was just-" A giggle, Wanda's kisses at my throat tickling just a little. "Just telling my dear Boadicea of what a gracious host lord death can be and you're set to prove me wrong."

I squirm over as best I can, Glass's leg still sprawled across, and take the warrior woman's chin in hand. "Come now. I thought we were going to dance." I kiss her, this time with a bit more passion than before, my other hand moving to cover hers and move it from Glass's knee, up the long stretch of uncovered leg to brush feather and fabric.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Ladies," and he's twisting beneath and beside me, gloved hand on bare thigh, and I give a heated little growl, pull his shirt down further and tangle his upper arm at least in sleeve and yoke, "I was just-" Spit and staunchweed, he giggled. "Just telling my dear Boadicea of what a gracious host lord death can be and you're set to prove me wrong."

"Us, prove you wrong?" Aiming to sniff in disdain, though it turns into a groan with his squirming. "With you showing here so overdressed, ruining the tone we'd set so well? Cruel of you," and he's drawing himself up and reaching past me and I trace the sleek lines of him down as he twists, slide my hand along between the waistband of his pants and the cool touch of his skin, start on the buttons. There's an absent touch on my leg, gaining pressure and intent as it slides up my thigh, and I'd need to be far further dosed to mistake anyone else's touch for Dorian's. Glance down to see and begin to bristle--that little second-rate brat, another's hand on her or not she bloody well dares--

Catch sight of Dorian's face pressed against hers in the smoky air above me and can't quite see a smile, exact (you'd think there was a mouth in the way), but I'd swear he's near to grinning, and find the set of my own mouth softening. Fine host and fine company, and'd not begrudge him.

"'re wallowing," I murmur in his ear, pressing up against him. No real bite to the accusation, only a smirk as I follow the words with a flick of my tongue. Stroke his hair with one hand and reach up to where the girl's shoulder's stretching above me with the other...

Laces. Fine. A touch dreamier than I might otherwise be, but I can damn well make my fingers work, and I work a loop, catch an end, hook fingers under crisscrosses and draw out the thongs. Thin tangle of leather in my hand and the covering slipping from her shoulder.

"You're welcome," I say, grinning and tracing my hand down along my own body, not touching, only skimming. Light tease of the leather laces in my hand brushing down my flank, and I press my mouth into the hollow of his shoulder, shivering in the hot air.

[hopeorfaith.livejournal.com]

Masked bloke sits down, an' in a minute 'alf th'women o'the room are draped all over 'im. One calls 'im 'ost so I'm guessin' this is Dorian. Got a nice figure, though it's 'ard t'make much of 'is face in that mask. Peacock girl crawls into 'is lap, quite shameless, an' red'ead - really thinkin' it might be Wanda wi' that pale skin and nice tits. Looks like we might 'ave a bit of an orgy 'ere, an' I can't say I mind. But I feel a bit left out, so I smile at blondie an' put me arm round 'er, watchin' what's goin' on in front of us.

[leah-pontarlier.livejournal.com]

The guy is lying among all those women and they all lean in and start doing stuff. At first all I can see is them in big pile on top of each other. Then I start to see other things, like how they are taking his clothes off!

My eyes go wide in shock, because this is wrong according to the rules I know about clothing. Clothing is to be worn except when you are bathing. The silver girl puts her arm around me and smiles. She's not upset. Why? But I know she doesn't speak so she can't give me an answer. I give her a quick hug and spot the only other woman who isn't part of the confusion.

maybe i can ask her...

[verite-belrose.livejournal.com]

Bodies rearrange themselves in our little group. With our Host at the center, Glass on one side of him next to me, the red head stretched on the other. After some giggling words he reaches for my chin and pulls me up to his mouth.Come now. I thought we were going to dance Ah a proper kiss! I open my mouth to him. His other hand covers mine and guides it up the leg. Part of me is wondering what I'm doing, I don't...I didn't mean to...But it feels so nice and smooth, the skin beneath my hand. Glass shifts and I feel the tug of the laces being undone. My sleeve comes off in her hand revealing the swirling blackness of my tribal tat, so much more complex than the simple spirals that I drew on myself for tonight.

I realize that now people will recognize who I am. As if the man kissing me won't notice the metal in my tongue. But that was private, only he'd notice. This. This is more obvious.

[lei-miao-shan.livejournal.com]

Wanda and Glass and the girl that Dorian brought in have now arranged themselves around him, kissing and caressing and slowly removing clothing. Wanda is so very happy, I can tell that from here. Believing that Dorian was angry with her was truly paining her, and I am very glad to see her happy now.

Still, it is time for me to go. One of the very first things we are taught is that when a man wishes to be with his lover or wife, the courtesan must leave. It is simple etiquette, and I have no wish to intrude on their pleasures.

Quietly I slide off of the couch. Back downstairs, perhaps to fetch something to eat. Even though I am still angry with him, I rather wish that Lucien was here.

The other two girls have not joined in, and I give them a quick smile as I move to pass them.

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

This is getting a fair bit convoluted here. Thank God for all those years spent diligently training. Wanda to one side, Glass to the other, and I've managed to sit up enough to reach the warrior queen, our mouths coming together for a kiss as Glass works at her sleeves. There's the sharp bite of metal against my tongue, familiar in just a moment of thinking back. I smile against her lips and pull back, just in time to see the leather slip from her arms, exposing tan and inked skin.

"You're welcome," Glass says, grinning, her hand teasing down her stomach. My laugh turns into a low growl at that. I shift again, this time for more leverage, to pull the warrior woman over Glass, in my lap now, her back pressed against my chest as I sit there between the other two. There are worse places to be.

I begin kissing at the girl's neck, running my tongue along the dark curves of her tattoos, nipping at the slightly raised skin. My eyes don't leave Glass, even as my hands begin to wander, moving up to begin unlacing yet more leather from the girl's top, fingers teasing against her stomach.

Wanda's still to my other side and there was some reason to stay away, something forgotten and obviously unimportant. I've been gentle up to this point, but with Wanda there's no need, too much already gone between us to care for propriety. I reach out and take hold of the back of her neck, my other hand still working at the warrior woman's top, and pull her in for a kiss. It's something like going home, kissing familiar lips, and while it may not hold the thrill of the new, the different, I can't stop myself from groaning a bit into her mouth before moving to her ear.

My hand moves lower on the girl in lap, top already loose, to toy at her waist band, leather against leather as I whisper to Wanda a rather vulgar sort of plea, instructions perhaps with nips at her ear and my tongue running down the side of her neck. As much as I may enjoy watching women together (or men, or anyone really), it's becoming a matter of logistics at this point. Three women, two hands - really. I laugh a bit and pull away. "There's only so much a man can do..."

Another look to Glass - toying with her is perhaps just as much fun as any of this other business - cast over the girl's shoulder as my hands begin to roam. I catch sight of movement, languid grace in gold moving towards the door. Miao. No, well that won't do at all.

"Wù líkāi. Nín yāo zhù wǒ yīgè shēngrìkuàilè," I call after, perhaps a little rusty, perhaps a little slurred. But she should get the general idea, yes?

[leah-pontarlier.livejournal.com]

Gold woman smiles at us as she starts to walk past but I put my hand out to touch her, "um...Can I ask you a question before you go?"

Then the guy in the middle of the room is saying something, something that sounds not like English or Spanish.Wù líkāi. Nín yāo zhù wǒ yīgè shēngrìkuàilè, It is said with enough deliberateness that it is most likely another language. A really different language.

I wait to see what she will do.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

Dorian's setting mouth and tongue and words to the angel and hauling the warrior woman over me in a swatch of leather and sweat-slicked paint, twisting up a little and calling out something I don't understand past me. Glance over my shoulder to see the siren crossing the room and then back to him, words I'm not minding somewhere in the room, and the angel setting herself to his words and the girl writhing in his lap under his hands and that dark sweet smug assurance in his eyes, languid lust and that constant mind to lead--

I'd have him down on the pillows right now if he weren't hiding behind that painted brat.

"Tease," I growl, nipping at his ear. "Only so much you can do, hmh?" Not sure if he was after answering or laughing but either's interrupted then, hazy taste of opium and the redder taste of that punch'll get you in the proper mindset, bright-dark spike like sweet blood as I tighten my fingers in his hair and he moans into my mouth. Breath quickening as I recall what I've seen his tongue do, how I've had my mouth on him, and I pull away, enough to speak.

"So I must settle, for your weakness. And call yourself a host?" and I'm laughing as I pull back, catch up the silk of his shirt where it's draping in loose folds down his back and set nails to seams. Sharp purr of tearing silk--like the wings of rockdoves taking flight, like bone scraping over stone--and lean back into the pillows, running nails over the flex and draw of his spine and shoulder and throat where I can reach them as I reach for the pipe.

[hopeorfaith.livejournal.com]

Int'restin', watchin' this, an' the girls're all pretty t'look at, but it don't look like I'll be gettin' much out of it meself. Oh, no doubt I could go drape meself over Dorian, but that ain't t'my liking - this 'as turned into ev'ryone payin' attention to 'im, an' I ain't much for man worship. Belly dancer walks by, an' Dorian calls out to 'er in a strange tongue, an' ooh, I think that's Miss Miao. Smile at 'em all, an' then I 'ead off, cos I got to see if I can 'ave some fun of me own.

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

We're just a mass of writhing, heated bodies now. Dorian alternates between us, finally grabbing the back of my neck and claiming my lips with a savage kiss. I rake my nails down his exposed side as he moans into my mouth. Missed you, missed you so much.... I think to myself, trying to rub more of my body against his.

He's putting images into my head, suggestions, and perhaps... maybe... I look to the Warrior Woman... I think to young for my tastes, but I run a hand up her leg anyway, lightly scratching at the inside of her knee as I nip at Dorian's neck a bit harder than before.

"There's only so much a man can do..." Our eyes meet, and I am struggling to get my addled brain to work. Before I can work on logistics, he's calling Miao back to us, and I turn to smile at her and hold out my hand. "Don't leave, dearest one." I beg, eyes glittering.

"So I must settle, for your weakness. And call yourself a host?" Glass' voice catches my attention, and I turn my head to towards the sound of ripping fabric
and her grinning. I look at her from behind Dorian's back....
and my mind has finally decided to join the party.

"Our host complains of having too many choices and not enough hands..." I pout at her prettily, then reach down and tear a strip from my already tattered skirt.

"I say...." And my smile turns heated and wicked as I pass one end of the black fabric to her. "We take all his choices from him."

[verite-belrose.livejournal.com]

I am pulled into Dorian's lap,a place I am happy to go. He nips and laps at my neck and the tattoo on my arm, and when Glass rises up and claims his mouth I don't mind as his hands are plenty busy undoing my bodice and roaming down to my waistband. I moan as hands caress the sensitive skin of my breasts especially the tips where the tiny barbells pierce my nipples. Every movement of his hands over those sends shudders through me. I can feels a hand on my leg and look down to see the red head and give her a smile. She's fucking gorgeous, I wouldn't say no to her.

Words are passing over and around me but some I catch, There's only so much a man can do...Our host complains of having too many choices and not enough hands...I say....We take all his choices from him.

The gorgeous fallen angel is ripping her dress an' passing the cloth over to Glass or someone. I can't tell I'm too busy writhing in ecstasy.

[iago-excolo.livejournal.com]

(continued here (http://community.livejournal.com/estdeus_innobis/278861.html?thread=7354189#t7354189))