spectacle [m]

i used to dream in the dark of palisades park

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played by

helene

sev
he/his
30
july 25
VERDANTURF TOWN
pansexual
HBIC special agent
cadet
single
6"0 height
6"0 height
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
awards
2 posts
part of
TAG WITH @severinparadiso
SEVERIN PARADISO
spectacle [m]
POSTED ON Jul 30, 2024 15:58:48 GMT
SEVERIN PARADISO Avatar


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The night roils with laughter and cheer. Mirth permeates like a perfume cloud, cloying in its beckoning, and his smile is open-mouthed and as warm as shafts of light that cut through the stained glass pieces of his mask. It is no great shock that Severin prefers the eclectic bedlam of the night market's masquerade to its cleaner counterparts—a greater variety of company promises more interesting conversation than those he'd find in the likes of haughtier associates. And, there is always the chance of catching a Rocket off guard in this motley gathering, should he manage to shake one from this barrel of hawks and sheep and snakes. [break][break]
A violin cuts through the din of laughter and boisterous chatter, a single, deceptively somber note as sharp as glass, before breaking into a buoyant tune that lifts bystanders to their feet, twining with their partners. Severin turns, smiles, and presents a choice in each gloved hand—a drink, or a dance.[break][break]
"We mustn't let them have all the fun, now."

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masques & mingling | open

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played by

Ceej

Kep
He/him
24
March 03
Alamos, Sinnoh
Homosexual
boy genius
Associate Scientist
nature, nuture
heaven and home
5'7" / 170 cm height
5'7" / 170 cm height
sum of all and by them driven
awards
541 posts
part of
TAG WITH @kepler
kepler brueshaber
spectacle [m]
POSTED ON Aug 7, 2024 23:07:38 GMT
kepler brueshaber Avatar
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[attr="class","postbody"]He doesn’t get out much, anymore. Part of it is self-inflicted solitude-- why, really, he doesn’t know, because he’s not really that much more focused on his work. He’d spent so long, worked so hard, to fight his agoraphobia just to let it all come rushing back in again, a comfort, a blanket; inside his lab, the only one who could hurt him was himself.
[break][break]
Part of it is… well, he’s always felt weird in his own skin. Maybe he’s waiting to get it, whatever it is; to start at the beginning, to make himself comfortable, find his own solid ground, before going out into public and subjecting everyone else to… whatever mortal coil flesh construct he’s shuffling around in.
[break][break]
Going out and dressing up is even more unheard of. But maybe if he layers on more makeup, maybe if he puts on that skirt he likes, maybe if he curls his hair, maybe he’ll feel less like a parasite in his own blood. Or maybe he won’t recognize himself in the mirror, enough to fool himself into thinking he’s someone else. He’s not Kepler Brueshaber, notable disaster. He’s--
[break][break]
--he doesn’t know. Maybe he doesn’t need to know. For tonight, he doesn’t need to know.
[break][break]
So he puts on the makeup and tries on the skirt, but then he remembers that Ash used to like the skirt, so he shoves it to the back of his closet and tries something else. He settles for something slippery and silver, and ties his hair back in a blooming ponytail of curls with red ribbon, and settles the off-lavender mask over his face.
[break][break]
When he looks in the mirror, it isn’t him, so it isn’t wrong.
[break][break]
The teleport makes him feel a little woozy-- no more so than the Doc boots and the height and the sudden press of people-- but Chaldene stands at his back and Divinity at his side. He works up the courage to at least make it to the refreshment’s table, before attempting to skitter back to the edges of the party, to safety.
[break][break]
And then, in what could possibly be the worst thing to ever happen to him, the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen in his life looks at him.
[break][break]
Then, they talk to him.
[break][break]
“Oh--,” my god, he swallows, quailing, because-- it’s not possible for humans to be that pretty? Is it? It shouldn’t be. It should be illegal, because he’s been done in, he’s dead. Kepler’s dead.
[break][break]
He feels like he’s been staring into the sun for too long. In reality, it’s only been a handful of seconds. Something in him flips a switch, from being terrified of being noticed, to terrified that this perfect, ethereal being is going to turn away and find someone else if he doesn’t say something soon.
[break][break]
“I-- like fun,” he manages to croak, his smile watery.
[break][break]
(Chaldene bumps his elbow and all-but-guides him to take the proffered glass.)
[break][break]
Kepler takes the stem in long fingers. He’s got nice hands, at least.
[break][break]
“Thank you,” he says, raising the glass to his lips. .


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