MASQUERADE PARTY

[masqueradeparty]

[the day of the party has arrived!

right around dinnertime, fairies will try to round up every single character and gesture, lead, or pull them towards the courtyard. there, the miniature castle has finally been completed! there are fairy lights and beautiful singing all around you, and it looks like there's some kind of a party going on in the castle, but...

...but it's still so tiny. how could you possibly get in there? it would be hard just to get your hand through the front door!

but the fairies will persist, and as soon as a character steps into the fairy ring...

they find themselves in the ballroom.

this post has been forward-dated to tonight, of course, so mingle in the comment sections and have a fun time with the different rooms.]

SECTION LINKS FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE:
• The Ballroom
• Side Rooms
• The Garden
• The Altar

Comments

[samson]

[Brock coos a little when she says that, amused, then lifts his mask a little -- it covers his mouth -- so he can press his mouth against hers.]

[molotov]

[Yayyyy kisses.]

[samson]

[Awww yeeeee. He keeps his fingers curled into her hair at the back of her skull, moving his other hand to rest on her knee.]

[molotov]

[She just wraps her arms around his neck.]

[samson]

[Brock snakes a hand around to the small of her back and turns his body toward her a bit more, nudging her closer to him. Get in his lap!]

[molotov]

[Oh, that... requires a little more dexterity than she has right now. She tries to get in his lap. And fails.]

[samson]

[Pfffft!! Brock laughs against her mouth and just picks her up instead, plopping her down over his knees as he continues kissing her.]

[molotov]

[She just makes a quiet noise and keeps kissing. He has to take care of her, she's so drunk!]

[samson]

[Are you kidding, he is the best at taking care of her! He will take care of her until he passes out from exhaustion. This is his calling, caring for people.

Eventually Brock just pulls his mask off all the way to allow for greater range of kissing movement, and hikes her skirt up her hips so she can straddle him.]

[molotov]

[Yeah, whatever. Molotov really doesn't give any fucks, she just keeps kissing him and letting him do whatever he wants.]

[samson]

[That's great, because what he wants right now is to grab on her bare thighs, fingers curling in as he bites her lip.]

[molotov]

[Yep, sure, okay. Molotov just makes a soft noise.]

[samson]

[Ordinarily, Brock would not be this openly affectionate with her in public. He is still a mature adult, even if he acts like a child half the time! But he doesn't care right now, all he wants to do is kiss on her.]

[molotov]

[It's fine, there's not even that many people around!]

[samson]

[But it's still kind of gross! Let me just drunkenly slobber all over my wife in public, sounds good. Oh well. They were in costumes, nobody would know who they were.

Brock squeezed her thighs again, then stopped kissing her so he could bite her neck instead.]

[molotov]

[No, Molotov was pretty sure that only Brock suffered from an inability to decipher the identity of people in masks. Sorry, Samson.

Molotov sighs a little and leans her head against his, closing her eye. She is going to be so mortified in the morning.]

[samson]

[Wow, check out how I switched tenses up there. That makes it extra sexy!

Brock just sucks hard on her neck, absently moving his hands along her body, though he focuses a lot on her hair and her legs. Not only is she going to be mortified, she is going to have a nice hickey, too. :') ]

[molotov]

[Oh no no, Molotov has to be far more drunk for that! He probably leaves a faint bruise though, before she clears her head enough to push him away.]

Stop, don't do that.

[samson]

[He lets her push him, breathing hard and blinking, trying to clear his own head.]

What? What.

[molotov]

No marks, not... no.

[samson]

[Once he has his breathing under control, Brock locates his mask and slips it back on. He fishes out another cigarette and lights it, able to smoke while wearing the mask even if he can't make out with it on.]

I thought you liked it.

[He lights another cigarette and offers it to her.]

[molotov]

I do not want to look bad in my dress, all bruised.

[But yes please, cigarette.]

[samson]

I think you look good. [He pauses to touch her jaw lightly with his fingertips, trying to tilt her head so he can get a better look at her neck.]

I mean, when you're bruised.

[molotov]

[She lets him tilt her head, but then shakes it.]

You think I dressed like this for you?

[samson]

Uh. Who else?