07-11-2024, 06:12 PM
Esper had no particular interest in technology, and never even saw the original invite, but she did enjoy dressing up. The strict anonymity lured only as a challenge for the most outlandish and elaborate of costumes; the kind of thing they usually reserved for the stage, or for themed festivals amidst the carnival. The hair spilled down her back was as dimensional as flames, bound in intricate knots and framing skin bleached as moonlight. Prosthetics made strange, vulpine elongations of her features and swept her ears into cruel points pierced with glinting metal, and her eyes seemed unnaturally large and shockingly colourless with contacts. Serrations edged her teeth into a predator's smile. Even her body had been altered, thin and sinewy, stomach concave and curved up to the cliff of her ribs. The drape of ethereal fabric only accentuated. She looked alien.
The party pulsed with the emotions of its inhabitants, and the music lulled all her senses into the charm of dance. It was a delicious high, and through it she only had eyes for Roza. Their bodies moved in a way that drew attention to them, utterly knowingly, but not one that included an invite for those spectators. Usually she used the Push to make sure others did not come too close, but here there was only room for intimacy with strangers.
Disruption jolted her when someone squeezed through. An elbow bounced off her shoulder as another dancer stumbled. The harmony went to shit. Reverie broken, Esper glanced away, not for who had bumped into her, but for who had created the wave of chaos in the first place. A Satan mask in a cheap suit, peering for a moment about like he’d lost someone, before slipping away. Her eyes narrowed.
She reached for Roza, fingers twined with the other girl’s, a communication without words as she extricated herself from the dancing throng. If Roza followed she did not let go on her path to the kitchen area. She found alcohol pointless, being as the nectar was all the sweeter filtered through those who’d already imbibed, but she took a glass anyway for the chill it left on her fingertips. A devious smile displayed the sharp edges of her teeth.
He was being dealt in a poker game amongst other masked players, and for a moment Esper contemplated the back of his latex head. No skin on show, not even his hands; an inconvenient shame, but not one that stopped her slipping her icy finger down his collar to tickle a touch at the back of his neck. It might have been flirtatious, except her finger was unpleasantly chill, and pushed in the smallest curl of fear.
“Quando il diavolo ti accarezza, vuole la tua anima*,” she said.
[[*When the devil caresses you, he wants your soul (Italian)
Also, for clarity, Esper's nametag is Narcissus, and Roza's is Camellia)]]
The party pulsed with the emotions of its inhabitants, and the music lulled all her senses into the charm of dance. It was a delicious high, and through it she only had eyes for Roza. Their bodies moved in a way that drew attention to them, utterly knowingly, but not one that included an invite for those spectators. Usually she used the Push to make sure others did not come too close, but here there was only room for intimacy with strangers.
Disruption jolted her when someone squeezed through. An elbow bounced off her shoulder as another dancer stumbled. The harmony went to shit. Reverie broken, Esper glanced away, not for who had bumped into her, but for who had created the wave of chaos in the first place. A Satan mask in a cheap suit, peering for a moment about like he’d lost someone, before slipping away. Her eyes narrowed.
She reached for Roza, fingers twined with the other girl’s, a communication without words as she extricated herself from the dancing throng. If Roza followed she did not let go on her path to the kitchen area. She found alcohol pointless, being as the nectar was all the sweeter filtered through those who’d already imbibed, but she took a glass anyway for the chill it left on her fingertips. A devious smile displayed the sharp edges of her teeth.
He was being dealt in a poker game amongst other masked players, and for a moment Esper contemplated the back of his latex head. No skin on show, not even his hands; an inconvenient shame, but not one that stopped her slipping her icy finger down his collar to tickle a touch at the back of his neck. It might have been flirtatious, except her finger was unpleasantly chill, and pushed in the smallest curl of fear.
“Quando il diavolo ti accarezza, vuole la tua anima*,” she said.
[[*When the devil caresses you, he wants your soul (Italian)
Also, for clarity, Esper's nametag is Narcissus, and Roza's is Camellia)]]