Session Five: Masque, Let the horomones rage! XD

She is perceptive.

He smiled only in response, smoothly stepping across the couch to step tentatively to the lift door.

"No, it would not do to leave him lost in your castle. Let us be off."

If she noticed his avoidance of the topic concerning her mother, so be it. She could poke and prod and demand all her royal heart desired, but he would sidestep the issue until the time was ripe.

As if on cue, the clanging bell of the clock drifted into the room. But it was not time, no matter the nudge of mechanical redundancy or sharp eyes. It was not time, no matter the nagging of the ghosts that haunted him. It was not time, no matter the urgency of the ever present glare of the moon, whose dim light filtered through the window.

It was not time.

Mors Certa, Hora Incerta.

Ven'n had noticed that he had sidestepped the question of her mother, but she chose not to say anything. Fine with her; she wasn't exactly in the mood to talk about all that, anyways. No matter how familiar he had been with her mother, he was still something of a stranger to her, something she found she was continually having to remind herself of.

She gave him a nod in response. "If you will excuse me but a moment..." she requested, trailing off as she ducked back into her room. She rummaged through her wardrobe, sifting through things left haphazard on its bottom, and through the knicknacks on the topic shelf. Her hand brushed across it on the latter of the two, and as soon as it did, she got a decent grip on it and eased it out.

Ven'n felt a quiet smile spread across her face as she looked down at the mask in her hands. Put on a face, it would cover the upper half of the face, including the nose and the upper cheekbones. There were cat-eye-esque holes cut for the eyes, and the body of the mask was covered in black feathers, spotted with white. At its crown was a peacock's feather, with alternating black and yellow feathers fanning outward from it, on the edges of the mask.

This was the other part of the costume her mother had worn when she and her father met. Well, the only other part that she felt comfortable wearing, at least -- she'd never gotten along well with skirts.

Mask in hand, she went back into the main room, where the Count was waiting. Some part of her wondered, if he knew her mother as he said he did, if he remembered the outfit -- or what she was wearing of it, at least. She made her way to the door, and opened only one of the two, seeing as it was only them.

Holding it open for him, she gave him a playful bow. "Shall we?"

//

Loved the post, Hakushaku, especially the last few paragraphs. ^^

Why thank you, dearest

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She walked in, and he fought the sudden urge to frown darkly.

The chit.

She didn't know, he was well aware, but with that infuriating mask settled on her face, it would be hard to feign the same ignorance. That mask had history--a history that would have the mask on the floor in tatters if he had his way.

It was beautiful, and a shame to destroy, that was for certain. But before his body was wholly consumed by the darkness he would see it burn.

Instead, he settled for a bow to match hers, sweeping by her. "Yes. Lets."

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How do you like my curve-ball? OH!

(Don't let this branch off into a long tangent...let's just get to the damned ball!)

Ven’n waited till he had passed her and was out of the room before following, closing the door quietly behind her. It might've just been her, but the Count almost seemed cool toward her. Feh, it was probably nothing, just her imagination acting up. She took off the mask, knowing that it would be a while till she would actually need it on her face -- when she'd put it on, she couldn't remember.

Once again, she headed for the small mounted crystal on the corner, brushing it lightly. She only had to wait a few minutes before the lift – really nothing more than a cage suspended by energy – arrived. She stepped inside and gestured for the Count to do the same.

“A quick word of warning, as I told Anveil before – I wouldn’t look down, if I were you.”

He was in not long after she was, and she gripped the bars as the cage began its downward decent.

//

Seriously, though, I'm pretty sure that I wrote the mask was simply in her hands and not on her face...

Don't worry; I'll drop you by Anveil, go freak out Daddy dearest with my resemblence to okaa-san, and get hit on by Cavalcanti! Phwee!

Hands? *checks*

OH SNAP.

Sorry...>__________>

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"Your castle seems to have a penchant for nauseating means of transport," he commented lightly as the lift lurched and began to move. "I hate to keep a young lady such as yourself waiting, though. I'm quite certain I can blunder my way to the party once I've got Anveil. Have you checked with your father yet, let him know you're all right?"

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Yeah, short. Whatever, yo tengo tarea. Get that SOB Anveil in here, now!

"Don't even get me started. I've no idea what it is with my father and the most nauseating transportation he can think up," she commented, shrugging. "But it does make you appreciate solid ground far more."

Just then, the lift lurched to a stop; the ride down was finished, apparently. Her knees were knocking as she stepped out of the lurching cage, grateful to be on solid ground once more.

She waited till the Count was off himself to continue her response. "And as of yet, no, I haven't checked in with my father. However, I don't think I've been gone long enough to warrant another search party," she commented wryly, her lips curling into a smirk. "As for Anveil, he should still be in the first room on your left if you go right there, if you and I've any for of luck at all. From there, just follow the hallway to the left, and you should reach the masque not long after that; just follow the sound of the music that's putting you to sleep and/or the somewhat drunken debauchery."

She gave him a courteous bow. "I shall see you at the masque then, Count," She trailed off, keeping in her position, but lifted her eyes so that their eyes met. "...and I shall hold you to your promise."

With that, she spun on her heels, and headed down the hall.

//

Meh, I'll continue this tommorow. Provided, of course, that you respond. And don't worry; we all make mistakes like that. ^^

And I'll do my best to get Anveil on here.

First of all, I apologize most sincerely for being AWOL for such a long time. There really isn’t an excuse.

And, as for how my character is supposed to act when we get to the ball, could you PM me on that, one of you? Cause I have no idea what to do when we get there. All I can think of is having the bruised and beaten up Anveil lean against the wall somewhere and wait for his chance to duel the Count. And that doesn’t have many exciting facets to it, does it? So any suggestions would be greatly appreciated. Okay, to the post.

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Anveil finally made it to the tailor’s room after making a few wrong turns. He tentatively stepped inside, where he was greeted by a kindly old lady. Looking through the massive collection of clothing they had, there was nothing that resembled the tattered uniform given by the Count. And so, she made do with what she had.

After much snipping, sewing, and measurement taking, Anveil sported a black tailcoat over a deep purple and black paisley vest (with matching bowtie) and a sheer, white dress shirt. No frills, just style. His well-pressed black dress slacks (also sheer) had two slightly raised black stripes along the side of each leg, and his shimmering shoes fit like a glove. While admiring himself in the mirror, he almost forgot his injuries.

He thanked the lady and was just about to walk out when he ran into the Count. Of course, it was then that he remembered his injuries. That didn’t stop him from smartly saluting instantaneously, though. It did, however, produce a grimace.

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Not much, but it moves the plot along.

It didn't take long for Ven'n to return to the ballroom where the masque was being held. She avoided the main doors, and instead opted for a side entrance. This meant a far more discreet re-entry than the main doors and the heralds who, though they operated the main doors and saved you the trouble of dragging them open yourself, blared your title for the whole room to hear, all while managing to interrupt and bring the orchestra and, consequently, the dancing to a screeching halt.

She didn't really want attention being drawn to the fact that she'd been away, not to mention she really wasn't up for her time-filling, disgustingly long full title to be announced.

So, after a few minutes of grappling with the doors, Ven'n was back at the revelries, mask in place. Not really wanting to fuss around with closing them again, she left them open. They needed the breeze in here, anyways.

She spent a considerable amount of time weaving her way through the crowd, trying to politely elbow people out of her way while scouting out her father. Already she could hear the whispers starting around her, and she let a private little smirk take her face. Let them gossip; she didn't give a damn.

Eventually, she came upon her father. That is, she saw him, but he didn't see her. As such, she took the opportunity to catch him off-guard, something that she could rarely do.

She snuck up behind him, flicked him gently on the shoulder and, at the same time, said, "Boo."

He whirled around, an unreadable expression on his face. Upon looking at her, that look became something readable: fear. His tanned skin blanched, to the point that it almost looked pale as that of some of the courtiers from the northern provinces, and his eyes dialated, the pupils almost overtaking the amber iris.

More than a little confused, to say the least, Ven'n decided to clarify things. "Dad? It's me."

Hearing her voice seemed to lessen his fear, as his skin returned to its normal color; however, his eyes still stayed slightly dialated, as if on edge. "Oh. It is just you. I am sorry for my reaction, dear heart. You just..." He trailed off for a moment, and just when Ven'n was about to prompt him to continue, he did, in almost a stunned whisper. "You looked so much like your mother, just then."

Ven'n was thoroughly confused by this. Why would her looking like her mother, when everyone knew she looked like her fater, whom she knew he loved, frighten him so? Before she could ask any questions, he continued on, as if trying to head her off.

"Is it done?"

She paused a moment, stunned by the sudden change in subject, but recovered quickly. "Yes, it's been taken care of."

"Good, then," he said, curtly. "We shall discuss this further after our guests have left."

And, with that, he went to chase down one of the many servants carrying a tray of drinks, leaving a very confused Ven'n in his wake.

The warp point finally released it's latest user, and as he stepped forward, clear of the residual energies, he finally took form. Sephiroth had come to Hollow Bastion.

Oh, it wasn't that he was for dramatic enterences or exits...it was just that his life seemed to work out that way, wanted or not.

Unfurling his curled wing he let it snap out sharply enjoying feeling it fully extended. His Masamune was held in his hand, bobbing from side to side carelessly. He eventually, with little effort for him but an action most could try their whole lives and never match, hefted the really really longsword up and over his shoulder. As it landed with a solid chink on his mythril pauldron. With a quick glance about him to get his bearings, the SOLDIER closed his eyes, streched out his soul, then followed whatever direction it pointed him in.

Sephiroth...was wandering.

Cloud had been sitting against the wall for quite some time, trying to get his bearings. Getting knocked unconcious by Heartless and dragged through the darkness had taken a lot of his strength, but he had been resting, and was feeling more like his normal self. Suddenly, he sat up straight up from the slightly slouching position he was at. He sensed a powerful and familar darkness. "No...what is he doing here?... It can't be...not.... Sephiroth."

The silver-haired SOLDIER had no real destination in mind. He moved as his soul directed. No more, no less. And here, it seemed, his soul pointed him in a certain direction.

As he wandered, he felt an all-too-familiar light. A thin smile creased his faced as his eyes rolled heavenward. Of course. It made sense that he would be here. After all, this is where his soul had taken him, and of all people, this was the one that ultimately represented the yin to his yang.

"Cloud..." If he could feel Cloud, though, he knew Cloud could feel him. He let that ominous sensation hang there, unwavering and dangerous...and he grinned.

Let Cloud dispair. He so enjoyed seeing just how disenheartened the boy could get.

Cloud crossed his arms as he sat against the cold concrete of the walls of the Waterways. "Great..." he said to himself, "First defeated by a couple of stupid Soldier Heartless, stuck in a dungeon, and now he shows up.... What a day..." He didn't know how long he had been unconcious, it could have been a few minutes, or it could have been days. Cloud thought to himself, "Hmmm...I wonder what Sephiroth is doing here anyways... Causing trouble, no doubt..."

Just have to peek my head in here...

Just so you know, when we move to our new site, this RP will be moved to the AUs, so that a more canonic RP can take place.

So post in here while we're still the main RP! ^^

And I might update later... depends.

(( *nods* Ok, thanks so much for the update! ))

*nods* right-o!

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sephiroth strode through the streets, his eyes casually absorbing his surroundings. He'd been to Hollow Bastion before, and much had changed since that time. One thing that intrigued the man was how all these worlds were connected to the wielder of something called a Keyblade. He'd met the boy before briefly, but was unsuprised at how fast he'd treated Sephiroth as evil.

The swordsman strolled down the street, following that feeling of light towards Cloud. That was something that Cloud seemed to have a hard part accepting...that he was the dark part of Cloud's heart, personified. The blonde child seemed to be of the understanding that if he simply defeate Sephiroth, the darkness would go away. What a foolish child.

It was time Cloud learned his lesson.

Silently, and with a silent smile of determination, the SOLDIER strode on...strode towards Cloud Strife.

The RP is actually up on the new site; we've moved, Seph, dear.

Don't worry; I'll just take this post over there.

Link to the new place's in the topic aptlly called "MOVE". See you on SDM V2!