The Keep

[Fables]

The sounds of violins playing mixed with those of the crowd, filling the air of the old keep that had once been a place of power, and yet now was a place for the wealthy to gather in the evenings.
It was here at this place on the edge of the city that the reservations of society were shed, and within its stone walls secrets were kept as nobles mixed with one another, sharing themselves in the delights of the flesh that would have a nation up in arms, and so the secret was kept, for none wished to hang on the gallows tree, or like the nobles across the channel, beheaded by the evil guillotine…

It was in this old Norman keep that Valo, at least that was what he called himself, for very few shared their real persona in this place, as the wearing of a mask was the number one rule, none to be seen, so no sin could be seen was the motto.

Valo, sat upon a finely crafted chair in the shadows of the main room, dressed in black and wearing the mask of the devil as he watched the dancing and flirting with his keen eyes from lady to lady, each dressed as beautiful as the next in their fine dresses that exaggerated their busts and held tight to their waists as they twirled to the music like the figurines of a musical box with their partners.

All were beautiful, yet none were what he sought, at least not yet, for Valo was no ordinary guest, and he sought a lady that would be more than passionate affair, he was in need of a lady that would please his spirit, for he was no mortal man, so he sought a lady that would bring pleasure to his endless life, or at least for a century or so…

(The keep is for all, this is my first posting here so be kind! Basically picture yourself as a noble during the french revolution that is happening in France, the Keep is in England since its a kinky country!
Valo is a vampire, so any lasses wanting his attention, beware, but the rest of the people there are all nobles, its just a matter of you all exploring your imaginations, finding a partner within the keep to perform what your fantasy asks.
So peek around the keep and see if theres any beautiful ladies, or men to your liking?)

 

[Brazen Irish]

Enter Océane

OOC

Welcome to Lit.

Contessa Océane Adélaïde Beaumont, a recently arrived French émigré, has lost everything in the recent Terror that has stricken France. Save for her little sister, Émilie, her entire family has fallen to Madame Guillotine. She made her way across the channel by bribing a ship's captain with some of her mother's jewels. With no way of supporting herself, and more importantly, her sister, and at the very last of her funds she has decided that the only path open to her is in becomming a rich man's mistress.

IC

A pretty smile slid across her mouth, the shapely lips painted with just a tough of rouge. She was smiling at something witty one of her admirer's said, though the amusement never reached the sharp green of her eyes. A small circle of young bucks had closed in upon her soon after her arrival at the event, flirting in a harmless effort to woo her into their beds by the time the ball had ended. None were the protector she sought, still tied to the purse strings of their parents would doubtless would cringe upon providing an income for their son's harlot.

Her eyes, as they were wont to do, swept across the swirling sea of aristocratic faces, though she did bandy the attentions of her small gathering quite well. Océane played the game well, for it was not so different than it had been at the French court. A brush of glove fingers against a nobleman's arm, a sweep of her lashes in shy ploy before a coquettish peak upwards was delivered. She'd spent the last bit of her money on a gown of crimson silk, a scandalous color to say the least. The corset beneath nipped her waist by several inches and pushed the creamy swells of her bosom to such heights that it was a wonder that nipples were still covered. The perfect dress for a whore, she'd thought, when she had first laid eyes upon it. How had her life ever come to this?

"I am beginning to feel quite parched," she murmured, melodic tones twinged with a slight accent. "Could one of you dear men fetch me a glass of champagne?" Like puppies did they fall over themselves to comply, breaking away as each sought to be the first succumb to the beauty's request. Pert nose wrinkled in distaste as she watched them depart but moments before she swept deeper into the mingling crowd that ringed the ballroom floor.

Slender fingers were folded almost demurely at her front, chocolate curls brushing her cheek where a few had been arranged to fall free of the artful mound of hair atop her head. One long tendril cascaded over her shoulder, bringing into view the sheer elegance of her neck. She felt like an ally cat on the prowl, and with even less morals, as she hunted for a likely man to tie herself to. She didn't want to imagine the thin, bony hands of an old man on her body or the plump sauasge-like ones of several of the men here. However, she decided as she tilted her chin to a stubborn angle, if that was what she must do to provide for Émilie, then she would learn to stomach it.

 

[little_golden]

Marie LaRose was no ordinary young woman of the old French court. She was a spirited beauty with long black hair, a smile that could melt a man's heart, deep brown eyes and huge over sized breasts. Crossing the channel had been an easy task, though only a few in England knew that she has prostituted herself to save her own neck. She has escaped with little apart from the clothes on her back and a small purse of French gold and jewels. Her parent's estates lay mostly in ruin and confiscated by the mobs.

Even with so much despair and sorrow in her life, with the loss of her parents and many relatives and friends, she still held out hope to be reunited with her older brother Francois. He had been rumored to be alive as he away serving on a French warship when the revolution broke out. But whether he was alive or a prisoner she had no idea.

Marie knew her fortunes were dwindling and her marriage prospects were slimming accordingly. She attended the "fête" at the old keep to mingle with the men and to try to snare the right man. In her mind, she was prepared to trade off her youthful body for a night's pleasure and the possibility of securing her own future.

The dress she wore was a pretty pink color with the finest French lace trim. The corset she wore emphasized her youthful feminine shape. The cut of the long flowing dress hide her legs but her voluptuous breasts virtually overflowed from the pink gown and her nipples were only slightly hidden. In a regal fashion, she walked into the main ballroom with no announcement. The candles were fewer in number than she expected and the room seemed darker and more clandestine.

The white mask, with a painted red rose on one cheek did little to hide her identity. The men in the crowd would be quick thinking enough as they could so readily see her large breasts and the little rose only reconfirmed her identity in their minds.

There ... A man... With a devil's mask.... What.....Who could that be.... Marie LaRose thought secretly to herself as she moved closer to the man.

 

[caela]

Alexandra Smythe

Staying near the outskirts of the room Alexandra couldn't help but smirk behind her mask. Instead of the plain white masks that many wore hers was a more feminized version of a demon's mask complete with small horns at the top and in a deep shade of velevety black instead of the normal red. The smirk it revealed curled her full lips just at the corners and if one looked up to the smoky grey eyes above they'd see contempt reflected there.

Alex, as those who knew her well called her, was of old Saxon stock and could trace her family well back before the Norman invasion. By being smart her family had kept not only their lands but their money and their fortunes had only grown over the generations. They now had enough money and power that Alex felt no compuntion in flaunting normal court style (especially in this place where none would dare speak against her lest they be discovered themselves) and instead of the tight corsets and flouncing skirts that the other women wore her body was swathed in the old greek fashion, a single layer of snowy white velevt wrapped around her lush body and falling to her ankles where on her feet were small golden sandles.

Her left arm was bare but for the golden torque around her bicep that spoke clearly of her families heritage and the delicate white of her gown was a sharp contrast to the midnight of her mask though it set off her creamy, alabaster flesh to perfection and made her flaxen curls almost seem to shimmer even in the shadow she kept to.

Her height was a gift of her Saxon heritage and with few exceptions she was taller then most at this gathering. Leaning insolently against a back wall her arms crossed under her breasts and she watched those around her. It wasn't hard for her to pick out the numerous french that had been leaking into the country and showing up at these gatherings. Women looking for marriages or to become some rich Englishman's mistress, men seeking heiresses to restore their own lost fortunes. She felt pity for them more then anything and wished them all happy hunting for this was definatly the place to catch such prey.

Despite the decadance around her Alex found herself bored. Her father had been sending her to these gatherings for years now and despite all his cajoling she always stayed to the shadows and went home as much a virgin as when she'd arrived. Though she doubted any would believe that here! Ah well she usually delighted in the spectcle these nobles made of themselves and something interesting was bound to happen if she watched long enough.

 

[little_golden]

Marie LaRose moved along with small delicate steps. She could feel eyes from the various nobles in attendance cast upon her. It was an awful feeling to be in foreign country and almost at the point of financial exhaustion. She didn't like being in England but she hadn't had any choice.

Strategically, she walked the outskirts of the great ballroom on her pink gown. It would be bad manners to cut across the center. Like at any ball she saw men and women gathered around in small clumps. Unlike most balls, these guests were disguised in masks and many in costumes as well. This was a secret get together that the local church officials would more than frown upon. The thought of being dragged before a religious court and some zealot bishop was enough to send shivers through her body. It was common knowledge that many of those interrogation chambers were filled with torture devices.

Looking to the left, Marie saw a few women who lingered near the sweet tables. She didn't recognize any of them and dared not get too close uninvited.Likewise a good number of men gathered near the tables where the beer, rum and spirits were being served. No doubt the men were already well on their way to being filthy drunk.

To her right, Marie watched one woman entertaining a crowd of men. She could only smile at the good fortune of the woman with the shapely painted lips for the men were paying her close attention. The gown worn by the lady was a crimson silk and pushed her breasts to emphasize their female charm. No doubt the dress had been imported from her beloved France.

"A beauty.... such competition" Marie whispered to herself as she eyed the other woman. Marie giggled aloud in delight as she heard the other woman speak to the men in a soft French accent:

"I am beginning to feel quite parched.. Could one of you dear men fetch me a glass of champagne?"

Marie could only continue to giggle as this smart countrywoman controlled a mass of noblemen as they fell over one another in an effort to please her.

Looking left, a tall woman appeared wearing a demonic feminine mask that sent a shiver to Marie's very soul so much so that she made a quick Sign of the Cross as if to ward off evil. It was a simple but foolish gesture. Marie starred at the small horns emerging from the top of the mask. This woman was feminine, taller than most, walked in a commanding fashion, and defied tradition by wearing a Greek fashion snowy white velvet outfit that wrapped her body snuggly and reached to the tops of her small golden sandals.

To Marie this woman was intriguing as she defied convention and tradition. It was rude to stare, but Marie couldn't help it as she analyzed the golden torque around the woman's bicep and did not recognize the emblem.

"Très intéressante" thought Marie as she continued to stare.

 

[Brazen Irish]

Unlike the others, the Contessa had forgone the usage of a mask and kept the delicate formations of her clearly aristocratic face bear. She had no identity to hide behind and no interest in the game at hand. The clever ones already knew whom was whom despite any coverings they sported, and given the careful calculations she had made to make this event a success for herself, it made a great deal of sense to display herself as brazenly as she had her succulent breasts. Men adored a woman was bold in public, for it hinted at what boldness she might also hold in bed.

Océane paused near a stone pillar and turned to face the dancing couples on more, lingering there upon the edge of the ballroom floor for several long moments. She too was not unaware of the other beauties who languished on the sidelines, but she paid them little heed. It would no good to view them as competitors when she did not know the intentions of each. Many of the noblewomen who flocked to such decadent parties as this were but seeking a moment's dalliance before they returned home to their husbands holdings and that was no threat to her. She did note the woman who'd taken the time to look her over, the voluptuously buxom woman who'd swathed herself in pink. The contrast of the pale color which was usually reserved for the young debutants on the marriage mart flattered her well.

A flick of her wrist snapped the feathered sticks of her fan open, dyed the very same crimson shade as her gown. She was skilled in the art of the fan, more than capable of the subtle dips and wavering patterns that could signify all sorts of coded messages. She kept her abilities tucked away within her arsenal to spring upon for later use as gently stirred a breath of air against her face.

Océane's lips pressed together into a tight line before she remember to relax her features, to keep the inviting ghost of a smile painted across her pretty mouth. She was having little luck upon her quest, having yet to find a single prospect worth perusing to her chosen end. She'd never been a woman of patience or one that willing to allow fate to deal her cards, not when she would much rather choose them herself. Breaking away from her post she directed her attention towards the heart of the room. There were several women like herself plying their looks to gain what they wanted. She would need something a little more powerful to garner a second look from the jaded gentlemen.

It was thus that she cut a swath directly through the dances, head held with a mixture of defiance and pride. She ignored the shocked whispers at such bold behavior. Even here, where rules held so little sway, such strictures of polite society were not broken. She did not bother with a seductive mincing walk, but rather glided across the room with an air of purpose that soon became clear, for as she reached the other side of the ballroom she reached out and plucked a glass of champagne from the tray of one of over worked servants. With a slightly smug curl to her rouged lips, she raised it to her mouth to claim a modulated sip.

Victory. There was no way Océane would be overlooked now.

 

[caela]

To Marie this woman was intriguing as she defied convention and tradition. It was rude to stare, but Marie couldn't help it as she analyzed the golden torque around the woman's bicep and did not recognize the emblem.

Alex felt eyes watching her and slowly her head turned until she saw a young frenchwoman dressed in a light shade of pink that suited her well while seeming a little to innocent for the daring gown she wore. Alex liked the contrast and offered the young woman a slight smile and a nod.

Reaching up absently her long fingers brushed over the torque on her arm. The heavy gold was carved with many symbols though her favorite was the spiraling labryinth. Her fingers unerringly saught this emblem, the one she considered her own, and slid over it lovingly. She always wore the torque so that this symbol was on the outer edge of her arm. It was her own personal symbol and every gown and piece of jewelry she owned carried it somewhere. It was a jest among her brothers that someday she would lose herself in a labyrinth and then she wouldn't be so fond of the emblem.

Hearing a gasp and many startled murmurs suddenly rising up around her Alex turns her head and can't help but laugh brightly as a woman in a daring crimson gown makes her way regally across the very center of the dance floor! Alex loved it and applauded the woman quietly. Such boldness was deserving of recognition for not many would dare it even in this company and Alex made a mental note to have her father or one of her brothers send the woman a costly, though anonymous, bauble.

Catching a young servant she inquired of the woman's name and made a note of it. Oh how Alex hoped this woman would come to court later in the season! She'd make the old biddies there gasp in shock and mutter under their breathes in ways that Alex could only relish.

Alex couldn't help it she watched the woman a while long hoping she'd do something else just as daring if only for the sake of her own amusement.

With a sigh the young woman goes back to her observations of those around her and is soon bored again. Lord how things got dull once the newness of the wore off!

 

[caela]

o.k. it's a shameless bump but i liked the idea of this thread, we just need some guys to help keep it going.