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Post by Jack Spinner on Oct 20, 2010 10:19:57 GMT -6
(Yes, I had to ask D for the French, shut up. Anyhoo, we don't have any 'all of us' roleplays, so here's this one. Hope you like it ) He had on a half-mask. Just one side of his face remained a secret, the other was beaming bright as day. He saw her across the dance floor; his heart quickened. She was beautiful, and he very much wanted to speak to her. He began maneuvering through the throng, trying to get to her. He squeezed and shoved, perhaps a bit too hard; weaved and waved. He was determined, he would speak to her before the freshness of the evening was lost to champagne and sweat.
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Post by Daeiel on Oct 20, 2010 10:51:17 GMT -6
((Good for you. I don't mind having to be your French-Spanish translator. )) "Gor," sighed the page-boy. The nobleman raised an eyebrow, hidden by the mask of course. "Gor, you say?" he asked, "What is this 'gor'?" The page-boy gulped. The man was noble, and he'd addressed the boy directly! "Gor, sir? I-I.." he stuttered, "I didn't mean nothing by it." "You didn't mean anything by it, you mean," corrected the gentleman. He straightened his collar and sniffed. "When will your sort learn to control your vulgar, common outbursts?" "My sort, sir?" "If you have something to say, young man," continued the nobleman, "You will please use the King's, and not your disgusting colloquialisms. That is the way it has been, will be, and should be." "Y-yes sir," answered the servant boy. "Now that that's cleared up," started the nobleman, "You will please refill my glass and tell me, who is that charming maiden there?" He pointed with a gloved hand, leaning down to the boy's height. The boy tipped the green-glass bottle into the man's goblet, following the man's finger. "I don't expect you to know, of course," added the gentleman with a conceited sigh, "Yet I might as well ask as not, wouldn't you agree?" "Oh, uh..." responded the page boy, "Yes sir, I suppose." "You suppose. How quaint." The glass was lifted to his lips, amber liquid hanging precariously above his snow-white cravat as it dangled on his mouth. "I, I know you won't be surprised to hear this sir," began the boy, hoping that was phrased correctly, "But I have absolutely no idea who that is." "I knew it," sighed the nobleman. He set the champagne glass down with a determined 'clang!', and brushed imaginary lint from his trousers. "Well, I suppose I shall simply have to find out the old-fashioned way. Good evening to you." "Good evening to you too, sir," answered the page-boy, though he meant not a word of it.
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Post by Elli on Oct 20, 2010 11:47:01 GMT -6
((Okay, I am going to try this out. *nods* I am gonna use a vampire character, but make her not vampire cause she has not developed alot alot.)) Alexandria stood to the side slightly, glancing at the staring gentlemen. She was used to the stares, though, she supposed now that no one knew who the other was it helped out. The only part visible behind her mask was her bright green eyes, and her mouth. The emerald green dress helped bring her eyes out even more. A grin came up onto her mouth as she felt yet another jealous stare coming from a girl somewhere in the room. Yes, she may be full of herself, but really the other girls were so meek and mild. Always consenting to the formality of what her parents drilled into her head. Never taking even the slightest risk. Well she was full of risks and was ready for the danger they ensured her. ((Blech.... oh well, here it is, sorry it's not like suuuuper amazing. ))
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Post by Daeiel on Oct 20, 2010 12:35:56 GMT -6
There was always something enchanting about the color green.
He had decided this some time ago, in an older forest as a younger man. There was always something enticing or bewitching about it, be it poison, life, jealousy, whatever. It was a lovely color.
And shining from beneath her mask were two emerald orbs, their color even more striking than the dress she wore.
He was entranced, his own golden mask reflecting the candlelight, as he watched her, approaching as slowly as he dared.
He was not the only one watching her, he knew that. But, he thought to himself, he was the only one that mattered.
Immediately, to draw her attention away from the crude ragamuffins straining for an audience, he called out in his native tongue.
"Mademoiselle!" he shouted, "Voulez-vous danser avec moi?"
He followed it with accented English, hoping the French captured her fancy long enough to hear his next call. "Would you do me the honor of selecting me as your partner for the next dance, mademoiselle?"
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Post by Jack Spinner on Oct 20, 2010 12:43:32 GMT -6
He almost wanted to shout out, I saw her first! But he knew that wasn't even close to plausible. Still, the Frenchman in the golden mask was stealing his thunder, and he felt he had a right to speak up as well. "Who'd want to dance with a stiff like that?" he called, as merrily as he could, though he meant every word of it. "Come on, mon chère, dance with me instead!" Ha, he thought, Ha! So what if that was one of the only words he knew in that language? If it got him a dance, he'd make it up as he went!
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Post by Elli on Oct 20, 2010 12:58:37 GMT -6
Alexandria smiled at the two gentlemen. It was not the first time that she had been in a situation as this, and it surely would not be the last.
She smiled at the two men, "Ah, surely a dance with either of you would be great. I must say though that surely you would not mind if I shared a couple of dances with both of you, no?"
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Post by Daeiel on Oct 20, 2010 13:56:41 GMT -6
"Mind?" asked the gentleman, "Would a king mind if a jewel was passed from a prince to a pig?"
He glared at the younger, half-masked man. It wasn't even a proper half-mask, either; it showed one eye, one side of his nose, and one side of his mouth.
He had to admit, however, that it was infinitely more intriguing than his own demi-mask, though his embellishments made up for its lack of originality.
"Of course I will mind, ma cherie, but I will not stand in the way. Let the pig go before the prince, mais oui?"
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Post by Jack Spinner on Oct 22, 2010 12:38:39 GMT -6
"Ah-ha!" he called, determined to never let the priggish Frenchman have the upper hand, "Saved the best for first!" He moved toward her, slowly at first, but as excitement took him, his pace increased. "The next, then?" he asked, hope lighting his hazel eyes. "Say, quite loudly, mind you, that you'll dance the next with me. Would you?"
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Post by Elli on Oct 25, 2010 16:15:35 GMT -6
Alexandria smiled at the man she was dancing with. "Ah, but that would not be fair to the other poor gentleman." Alex ((sorry writing Alexandria everytime is slightly annoying ) paused, "But that does not mean that I won't dance with you again." A coy smile began to play on her face.
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Post by Daeiel on Oct 25, 2010 17:49:53 GMT -6
Whatever shenanigans the half-masked fool had pulled, they were...well....working.
He had crossed his arms over his chest, glowering from the corner. Not sulking, never sulking; pouting was too far beneath him to ever be an option. He simply watched with a sort-of mixed expression on his face.
The song was a quick gavotte, perfect for not-talking to one's dance partner. There was far too much energy in the music and movement in the dance to allow for small conversation.
Excellent, he thought. If they were too busy dancing, or not wanting to get run over by the other dance couples, they would have to join in. And joining in meant hardly speaking to each other, unless it was at a shout.
He supposed he was being childish. Perhaps he should behave more like his station and outward appearance suggested, rather than the seedy vulgate, which was so decidedly below him. Still, he could not help himself.
"Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur," he began, speaking sideways into the ear of the conductor, "But do you think you could play, say, a waltz for the next dance?"
His words triggered at least a little with the band director, but the coin pressed into his hand meant more.
"Of course," replied the conductor, who saw nothing more than an overly-eager, and overly-rich, gentleman who fancied himself a connoisseur of music.
"Merci beaucoup, my good man, merci beaucoup." The gentleman smiled in a half-lost sort of way, and went back to his corner to glower.
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Post by Jack Spinner on Oct 26, 2010 15:07:28 GMT -6
(SNEAKY BASTARD!!!!! ) He smiled despite the tempo of the music, and the fervent movement of the dance. "Perhaps it would not, but all's fair in love and war, you know." She was smiling, and she wanted to dance with him again! He knew the evening would not be nearly as tedious as he had previously expected, now that he had met this lovely green-eyed girl. "Dance with me again, eh? Well!" he smiled as brightly as he could, which was very bright. "I'll very much look forward to it." There was an urge, deep inside the more vulgar part of himself, that told him to make a face in the priggish Frenchman's direction. He suppressed it. It would not be polite. To the young woman, that is. He cared nothing for the Frenchie. It would be impolite to the girl, to take time away from their dance to taunt the other gentleman. Plus, it would make him seem less mature than the other, and he was determined to win this one.
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Post by Elli on Oct 27, 2010 10:30:01 GMT -6
Alexandria smiled as the two danced. It was a fun dance that she enjoyed, though she always loved a good waltz. One where she could talk a little bit with her partner. She could hear the music begin it's crescendo and she could hear the end notes becoming more near.
Soon she would be dancing with the frenchman, who was a whole other character compared to the one she danced with now. Obviously from a higher station, though at the same time, not too high.
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Post by Daeiel on Oct 27, 2010 10:41:42 GMT -6
He was still watching.
Somehow, someway, that devil in the half-mask had managed to still talk to her, without embarrassingly shouting their business to the entire room.
Ah, well, he thought, At least I will have the upper hand here.
The music was in decrescendo, gradually becoming pianissimo, flowing seamlessly into the next song.
He was already moving before the tell-tale 3/4 time started up.
"If you don't mind," he said, trying as hard as he could to not shove the cheeky blighter aside. He planted one hand firmly on the enchanting girl's waist, holding his left upwards for her to take. "From pig to prince, mais oui, mademoiselle?"
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Post by Elli on Nov 1, 2010 9:52:03 GMT -6
((Daeiel, you made my day with all of the musical references. I saw it and smiled ))Alexandria gave a slight giggle, "Well I must admit that you are of a different standard." She reached out her hand and took his left, her feet fell into the waltz easily and comfortably. ((Blech post, sorry...))
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Post by Daeiel on Nov 1, 2010 17:52:51 GMT -6
((Well thanks. I haven't had to use them since my college doesn't offer a music minor. But I appreciate them nonetheless.))
"A different standard?"
His feet were gliding onwards, sweeping the girl along with him in effortless, ethereal movements.
"You could definitely say that, mademoiselle, you could certainly say that."
Ah, the privacy of a waltz. None of this larking about, half-shouting whilst jumping like mad. He almost felt sorry for the half-masked devil. Almost.
"So," he began, for the sake of having intimate conversation during a most intimate dance, and for the sake of annoying the cheeky caffler, "Why does a maiden, such as yourself, come to grace us mere mortals with your ever-endearing presence?"
He lifted his arm and spun her, knowing it was graceful, and knowing that his hand would be seen clutching hers. The subtle victories of social warfare were nevertheless intensely satisfying.
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Post by Jack Spinner on Nov 2, 2010 15:51:42 GMT -6
(Hee. You play the bastard very well, D.) He was touching her, holding her hands, whispering to her. It was grossly unfair. He wasn't pouting, indeed not; pouting was something only the sorest of losers did. He was simply waiting for the next opportune moment, the moment where the music ended, and he could collect his bounty. The candlelight cast the left side of his face deeper in shadow, while glittering on the other. He knew he looked intriguing, and he was going to use it to his advantage. The Frenchie spun her. He waved to her as she swung out, to let her know he was still there, and a better choice. He supposed he could bribe the orchestra man as the Frenchie had, but he would merely let the chemistry of the evening throw the two together. He was a firm believer in the organic. Besides, he had no money.
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Post by Daeiel on Nov 19, 2010 13:39:56 GMT -6
((I know. It's kind of frightening.))
He saw the sneaky vulgate wave. It was frightfully rude, trying to capture another man's dance partner's attention, while still in the midst of dancing. Abominable.
Well, he thought, At least my victory is secured when social graces form the lines.
The spin was graceful, elegant, much like the man it came from; his right arm was open to receive her again. Artfully, oh, so artfully, his feet twisted, turning the girl from his much-less-illustrious competitor. The noble Frenchman now faced the half-masked Creature straight on.
He hoped his glare was stern enough to melt stone.
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Post by Elli on Nov 19, 2010 14:01:33 GMT -6
Alexandria smiled up at the Frenchman as she felt him turn her around and around. He was an excellant dancer and he knew how to keep her moving without exhausting them both.
Then he swunge her around and back to him so that she faced him dead on. His gaze seemed to be trying to see into her soul. She smiled up, hoping to dazzle the man back.
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Post by Daeiel on Dec 1, 2010 13:29:39 GMT -6
He returned the smile. It was merely charismatic, nothing special. No reason to melt the girl's heart right away.
"Truly," he whispered, "You have a smile très belle, mademoiselle." The music floated upwards, the violinists' fingers tripping lightly. "Mais," he added, ready to run through his list of 'conversation for females', "I have not yet had the pleasure of learning your name. Comment t'appelles-tu?"
Perhaps it was a bit boring, but still. True romance did not ensue until the lovers knew each other. And knowing began with names, didn't it?
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Post by Jack Spinner on Dec 6, 2010 11:23:30 GMT -6
He was undaunted. Let the Frenchie glare as hard as he could; it would not affect him at all! He smiled back, a glass of champange held coolly in one hand. He was not drinking it, of course, champagne was much much too sweet for him. But, the glimmering glass full of sparkling liquor added to his ensemble. It made him look dignified, he hoped. The Frenchie was whispering to her now; this peeved him. He was quite positive that this girl was the one for him. For this evening, that is.
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