The Second Annual Masquarade

[Merelan]

OOC Those of you who were here last year may remember a thread I started called the Masquarade. Well.... guess what? It is time for another one. Yep. So here are the rules. Everyone is invited but you have to follow a few basic rules.

1) Rsvp by the 18th. Anyone wanting to join after that must email or pm me. it is the only waythis works. trust me. Then await my instructions. Yes mine. I shall send you your costume, my choice. But.... if for any reason you do not like it let me know, or if you have ideas of your own. I am not running this thread, just guiding it. We had fun with it last year. Honest, I take the time, alot of it actually, to go and read about you and what you normally play and do. Then try to tailor something to either fit in with that, or maybe a bit different. To help you, and myself stretch as writers and players.

2) Do not play with each others characters. You know the rules. No making people do things unless they have given you permission. Otherwise I shall get vexed, and you don't want that. And please take your time. There is to be no wham bam here, please. Long drawn out sessions of passion are best, are they not?

3) Have fun but don't get complacent. I have a tendancy of throwing in twists and turns when things seem to be bogged down or not moving. Ask some of them from last year.

Not sure there are any other rules. If there are oh well.

IC:
The year had flown by. My Master had again kept me busy with his business and personal life. And now here we were. Throwing another Masquarade. As usual I had moved into the small town, could be anytown in the US. He had chosen it. For three months I had lived here, working as a cashier at the supermarket. It was a great way to meet people. Having drawn up the list of people who needed his help, or people that would revel in such a ball. Now the thick, and very expensive invitations were on their way to them. Anonymously inviting them to a Masqaurade at the old Mansion. They would have no idea who had invited them, and I wondered if they would all come. There were always a few who didn't. Sadly missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime.
The Invitations were simple and to the point.

You are invited to a Masquarade. With your return RSVP you will agree to the following rules.
Wear the costume that shall have been personally chosen for you and which will arrive the morning of the ball.
Never discuss what happens there, ever. If you do there is no returning for more pleasure and delights. And trust me, you shall have your every desire and whim fulfilled this night.

Then was the basics of where and when. I dropped them in the mailbox and turned to go home. Or to my current home. Wondering what he would have me be this year. For my costume was chosen by him too. The same rules applied to me. But I knew the pleasures that could be mine. Would be mine.

 

[J Bravo]

I'll do it.

 

[MissVictoria]

Emma Matthews

Two years out of college and bored out of her mind, Emma Matthews was teaching art to students in the only highschool of a small and stereotypical town. Nothing ever happened here, which is why she was so suprised to recieve the invitation that Tuesday morning.

How she was wasting away in this small town! She missed the museums of the bigger cities- missed being around art that inspired her. Here, she was forced to day after day of grading neatly-copied comic book art, pencil interpretations of magazine ads, and half-attempts at trendy graffiti art... and that was just the better of the things she crossed.

Emma kept the invitation in her desk all day, peeking at it every so often between classes and wondering why she had recieved it. There was something exciting about the very nature and mystery of it, and Emma found herself filling out the RSVP card on her lunch break.

Intruiged, she dropped the card into the mailbox.

 

[J Bravo]

Thomas

IC:

Thomas was sitting on his ass watching TV when he heard the mail slot open and heard the noise of envelopes hit the floor. He got up and walked to the door and bent over to pick up the letters.

"Bill, bill, bill, 'wanna get rid of roaches?'... nah... bill, what's this?"

At the bottom of the stack, was a letter written in very nice, green handwriting.

He opens it up and reads it. It's a letter to some halloween ball thingy. He was about to throw it away when he read the part about not telling anybody about it. It reminded him of that mask party in "Eyes Wide Shut".

"If there is a God, it will be really similar."

Thinking it over, he starts filling out the RSVP card, then drops it into the mailbox.

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Roxanne Leshal

Roxanne Leshal was a drama queen. She had an inflated sense of reality and a most definitely overactive imagination. College had not suited her, and she had taken to a life spent of dark brooding in the tiny 'starving artist' apartment that had become home. Papers were scattered over the few square feet that made up her floor space, poetry and starts of novels that had been haphazardly discarded.

She was also most definitely down on her luck. Manuscript after manuscript had been sent to numerous publishers, but alas, still no response. All it would take would be a kiss of good fortune, a stroke of pure genius, to get her out of this rut.

Sorting through her mail, the only envelope that held any promise of being a multimillion dollar signing offer was a thick parchment one. Strange there was no return address. Opening it, she found instead an invitation to a Masquerade. Which naturally started her on repeating all the important lines she could remember from the 'Mask of the Red Death,' by one of her favorite writers.

Curious, she filled out the return card, adding a stanza of her own to the bottom of the RSVP form.

For your kind and generous invitation
I shall grace you with my attendance
Returning this card, I complete my reservation
For a fulfilling evening and sublime renderance.

 

[intriguess]

I would if I had the time, but if you need someone down the road feel free to call on me *wink*

 

[Merelan]

You get back to your school work, naughty girl.

 

[Roland Gilliad]

Rolando De Gilliad

ooc: OH MAN! I remember this! I am -so- in. I remember the fun...

in any case, its back to The Man himself...Rolando De Gilliad, the Mystery Writer Extrordinare.

IC:
*one year*

*that is how long it had been scince.....that day, oh so long ago...that day....He remembered it in every dream and in every daydreaming thought, and though many of the old details were hazy, and sometimes he wondered if he would ever experiance somthing like that again....he continued on with life....after six months hiatus with writers block, he finally had released his newest novel, "Life and Death"a best seller of course.....And now, The world famous (well, at least in his mind) Novellest walked out to the mailbox in front of his Eastern Ohio home, living out in the wilderness made him more relaxed...but he could have never guessed what he would find in that box...he nearly dropped his monthly royaltys check when he saw the familiar handwriting, and ran inside quickly to make certain he was not dreaming this...He lept into the air and hooted for joy, grabbing a quill (he did so love the old writing impliments) he pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote in a fine script...*

I would consider it a High honor to Attend, therefore, I reserve my place at the ball and await further notice from you, And many expressive thanks for the invitation this year.

scincerely,
Rolando De Gilliad the Third

*Blowing on the emerald ink, he folded it carefully and sent it off immediatly, first class back to the sender, and immediatly began to cancel his appointments for that day*

 

[Sweetp4u]

I would like to join.

 

[SexyChele]

My name is Samantha, 26, and I was new to the neighborhood, a little shy with meeting people, though friendly enough. I knew I worked too hard, too long, and that really didn't afford much opportunity to go out and meet new people.

I loved my job as a systems analyst, but the hours really were hell. I had been working late this evening and was tired - not physically tired, but mentally drained. I had plans only to eat a light dinner, take a long soothing bath, and then read before going to bed.

Absently, I picked up the mail before walking into the house, and laid it on the table. Fixing dinner, I absently watch the news and listened to my phone messages (10 from my mother, who was always worreied about me!), as I ate little. Grabbing the mail, I went to the bathroom where I started the bath and began to undress. My long auburn curls bounced around my shoulders, as my green eyes gazed back at me from the mirror. I scrutinized my figure in the mirror. Yes, I had lost some weight since coming here, not really eating enough. Still, the loss of weight was a bit of a blessing, and caused my breasts to seem larger than normal. Piling my curls up on my head, I sink into the water, allowing the warmth to soothe my body.

After a while, I dry my hands and sort through the mail. One piece catches my eye - a thick envelope, looked like an invitation. But who could be inviting me to anything?

As I open the envelope, I'm amazed - a masquarade? How interesting! But....should I go? I don't even know who it is from. Still, it could be just the thing to get to know more people. As visions of costumes come to mind - maybe something from Shakespeare, or a maiden from Camelot - my eyes rest upon the words that state my costume will be chosen for me. How odd. How interesting.

Awaking the next morning, I look over the invitation again while sipping my morning coffee. Carefully I fill out the RSVP. On my way to work I drop it in the mailbox, suddenly excited at the prospect of meeting new people.

 

[catlover]

Frank

count me in too

 

[Sweetp4u]

Heather

It had been a long day today, I had been working since 6am and it was now 5 and quiting time. Running the small town mechanic shop was a bit hard, but damned fun. All the employees' here were male, with the exception to me. But they referred to me as "customer care", truth was they couldnt do half the organization I did. They also weren't very good at balancing the ledgers.

Locking up the shop, I was greatful to be going home. Tomorrow I would be coaching the local little league soccer. I needed my rest for confrontations with the parents.

Driving home was uneventful, as always. Living in a small town was rather boring at times. It didn't help I never really went anywhere. I have a serious problem with people staring at me. I see myself as average, everyday american girl. But looking into the mirror, I know thats not true. Long brown hair, all the same length, fell straight and gently next to my face. Green eyes looked back at me from the mirror. The golden highlights from the summer sun made my skin appear to be soft but golden. Full lower lip, and a perfect top. Though i rearely smiled. I wasnt too tall and I wasnt too short either. Large chest, which made men stare, and a sense of humor which kept me in good graces with the guys at work. As long as they didn't hit on me that is.

Reaching home, I grab my mail and head to the living room. Reading through the addresses..Lets see here... we have junk mail, the old "Psychic" Your lucky numbers line, Letter from Mom.. boring..Bills and a thick fancy envelope addressed to her.

Plopping down on the couch, I grab the letter opener and look inside. Debating wether or not to look. Taking a chance it isnt an invitation to some friends wedding, she pulls out the letter. Quickly reading through it, and setting it aside.

RSVP huh? Now who in the world would invite her of all people to a masquarade? Did she know anyone in the town besides the guys at work? Another good question. Probably one of the guy's at work had a bored wife. Shrugging her shoulders, she thought why not. Filling out the card, She took it out to her mail box. Put the flag up and walked back inside.

"Heather girl.. you need some excitment in your life..Now go get some beauty sleep" Laughing, I shower and get into bed. Lecturing myself would some day make people think I was weirder than They already Thought.

 

[mfucker]

OOC: i'm in too trying to find what i wrote last year....IC:

Jesse, 26 yr old secretary, 36D-25-34, 5'9

.....that means she's 27 this year....

 

[Roland Gilliad]

ooc: MFUCKER! *Tackles you and drags you off for old times sake*

Good to see you again!

 

[Merelan]

hey no man... or woman handling till the party starts. Geesh. Though she is sexy, bent over like that... trying to find what she wrote last year.

though guys, you don't have to play the same characters, unless you want. Have some super people joining us now.

 

[Roland Gilliad]

Just in case you dont have it yet...

E-mail: orcists@hotmail.com

Kay?



Cant wait to get started..
*Bouncin excitement*

 

[TylerDurden]

Ian

I push the door close with my foot, but the force I use, pushes me forward, sending the books I was carrying crashing to the ground. "DAMMMIT!" I crouch down and pick them up and carry them over to my bed and set them down. I pick up a sock laying on my bed from my roommate and throw it over on his bed. "That lazy slob."

It'd been two years. Two years I'd spent in this hell hole they called a university. I was smart, but in high school, I'd spent too much time having sex and not enough time studying, so now I was forced to slave away in this crappy college in the middle of nowhere. My dorm roommate was how I was in high school, so now that I was actually trying to study, he'd always have a party going or something. God, I hated him. The professors were morons, the students were brain-dead, and the women were hideous.

On top of all that, I had a night job, and a weekend job. Between classes, work, and sleeping, I hardly had any time to study. If things kept up like this, I wouldn't even get my bachelor's then I'd have to be a truck driver or something. OMG, a Truck Driver. That's what I would be, with a CB radio and everything. With some stupid road name like Poppa Bear or Tree Bark. All I needed was a break to get my perspective back in line.

I opened the door and got the mail. Nothing of any importance, as usual. I opened my roomie's mail box and set his mail on his bed.

Then walked over and laid down on my bed. I turned off the light and noticed a shimmer from my roommate's bed. I clicked the light on and walked over. I noticed an odd evelope lying amongst his other mail and picked it up. The envelope had no return address, or post mark. I decided to open it. After all, I wouldn't want my roommate to open it and be blown to bits, would I? After I was done reading it, I was ticked. A Masquarade. But, do I get to go to it? Oh no, not the one who has been working his ass off for the past two years. The one who goes to parties all the time and never does any work. I filled out the RSVP and mailed it out of spite to him.

I just hoped it wouldn't be too weird.

 

[MissTaken]

Dawn

At 29 years old and newly finding herself single (thanks to the little slut in her professor husband's economics seminar), Dawn is just now reaching out. She has few friends after the separation as her friends were "their" friends. They all seem to have disappeared, whether due to taking sides or simply feeling uncomfortable being "in the middle", she wasn't sure.

She teaches French at the local high school to masses of uninterested, unmotivated students who fail to see the beauty of the language and culture. On a good day, a super jock will eye her with appreciation for her athletic figure and stylish manner of dressing. At 5'7" and a firm 135 pounds, she dons the occasional mini skirt just to get some reaction out of her students. Otherwise, she faces blank expressions every day for seven hours and sleeps little at night, pondering how empty her own life has become.

A typical Friday, she runs errands, picks up several romantic comedies and a gallon of chocolate ice cream. Ha! She is ready for another weekend of self absorption and self loathing. Thank God she is one of those people who can eat anything and never gain a pound!

As she thumbs through her mail, she files several unopened bills and opens a letter from her husband's attorney. Of course, he contests the terms of the divorce. She, then finds the thick, richly embossed envelope.

She reads over the invitation twice, searching for a hidden joke that may be being played on her. She is incredulous. Finally, she says to herself, "What the fuck!" She completes the RSVP in a shakey hand, cues up Sleepless in Seattle and begins fantasizing over the source of the invitation, the agenda for the evening and finds herself excited about something for the first time in years.

 

[NightWhispers]

would love to join....

OOC: Heaven McCallister; 23 years old; exotic dancer/nude model
red hair; flashing green eyes


IC: At three o'clock on Saturday after a long night of dancing and fending off numerous perverts, I pluck the three keys from my purse and unlock the door. Various people throughout my life have complained about my jaded reasonings. They never criticize, however, my need to feel safe in my home; a home that once held so many promises and desires.

From not only exhaustion but pure disappointment, my bag falls to the floor and I lean my back against the heavy metal door. A melancholy feeling washes through my body as I look around the vast openness of the loft. All of the furnishings were purchased with Jimmy standing next to me nodding his approval, his hands wrapped around my waist. He was the only man I could say I truly loved. I thought he felt the same way about me. Until that fateful night I found him in the brass bed, on the once newly laundered white comforter, with the bleached blonde bimbo from the club. When I confronted him about the affair he spat out that it wasn't the first time. I turned on my heel and fled the loft, tears welling up in my eyes. When I returned the next day the only sign of him was the stack of overdue bills he left for me.

Shaking my head I clear my head of the painful memories. I look down and see the endless piles of letters the postman slid through the mail slot. "Shit!" I murmer, exasperated from working my ass off to pay for his damn lifestyle.

I sit down at the butcher block kitchen table, hold my forehead and proceed to sort the correspondence. Suddenly, my eyes detect a neatly printed envelope with Jimmy's name on it.

"Aw, what the fuck! Might as well open it. What's he going to do have me arrested for tampering with his mail!" One crimson nail tears into the parchment marterial and retrieves an engraved invitation. I can't help but wonder which of his many bimbos has enough class to send him something like this. Well, maybe she's not just some bimbo but a woman like me. I read it carefully, intrigued by the party's theme. Filling out the RSVP I enter the number two in the space provided for marking the number of people wishing to attend. Hopefully they won't kick me out when Jimmy is a no show. Maybe I can find out some answers to my questions about Jimmy.

 

[Ticklish Girl]

OOC: Wendy Chambers, 30 years old, 5’6”, 130 lbs, shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes. Bank teller by day, writer of erotica by night. Somewhat shy, but has a kinky side that only gets expressed in her fiction.

IC: I trudged into the foyer on tired, heavy legs, shivering slightly from the chilly autumn night. It had been another dreary day, the latest in a continuing series. It seemed as if every rude, obnoxious person in town had ended up at my window today. I had used every ounce of willpower to keep from slapping at least two of them, and now I was exhausted.

What made me feel worse was knowing that I wouldn’t be able to write tonight. I tried to put in at least an hour every night because I needed the discipline as well as the escape that creating fiction provided for me. But it was almost impossible for me to concentrate on writing steamy sex scenes when I was this tired and frazzled. I didn’t feel even a tiny bit sexy. Right now all I wanted was to go up to my apartment, change clothes, and fix a nice hot bowl of soup for myself.

First however, I had to pick up the mail. Sighing, I shoved my key into my mailbox and opened it. A small stack of envelopes and a TV Guide lay within. I grabbed the stack without looking too closely at it, tucked it under an arm, shut the mailbox and headed to the elevator.

Once inside my apartment, I tossed the mail on the living room coffee table, then changed clothes. It felt heavenly to shed my stodgy business suit and replace it with my comfy gray sweats. I could feel a tiny bit of energy returning to me as I headed to the kitchen to open the can of Chunky Soup.

As the pot boiled on my stove, I fetched the mail and sorted it. Credit card bill, phone bill, a couple of pieces of junk mail, and a thick, expensive-looking envelope. This last looked intriguing. I turned it over in my hands a couple of times. No, it hadn’t been sent to me by mistake – it was addressed to me. The handwriting was so fancy you could almost call it calligraphy, but it was unfamiliar. None of my friends or family members had such exquisite penmanship. I had never seen such script at work either. Even though I usually saw dozens of signatures every day, I would remember script like this. I held the envelope in my hands for a long moment, the soup forgotten. I forgot about being tired and burned out. I was eager to know what was going on here. Well, there was only one way to find out. I grabbed my letter opener and carefully sliced open the envelope.

I had to read the invitation twice, just to be sure it was for real. A Masquerade at the old Mansion…Costumes to be chosen for me…Never discuss what happens there…Every desire and whim to be fulfilled. For some reason my eye kept returning to that line. Every desire and whim… I shivered. That covered a lot of territory.

As I read the invitation for the third time, I noticed that there was an RSVP and a return envelope. Should I go ahead and fill it out? Even as I asked myself that question I knew that I would. The mystery, the promise of pleasure, had captivated me. It was as if someone had offered me the chance to live out one of my erotic tales. In contrast to my stories of exotic locales and kinky passions, my life was fairly boring and conventional. I had always played it safe, even in my love life. Here, finally, was a chance to do something wild and outrageous for one night. How could I pass that up?

The hiss of boiling soup jerked me back to reality. I hurried to the stove, turned off the heat and took the pot off the burner. The soup was too hot to drink right now, and in any case I had lost all interest in it. Instead, I darted into the living room to grab a pen. I wanted to fill out the RSVP and get it in the mail before my practical, sensible, boring side reasserted itself and talked me out of it.

 

[MysticWolphi]

OOC: I would be honored if you would allow me to join you at the Masquarade. My character is Hope Elizabyth Winters 25 years old, 154 pounds, witch eyes (dark green surrounding the pupil, pale green irises, and a circle of dark green on the edge of the irises), and blue black hair that is naturaly in spiral curls down to the back of the calves usualy worn in a tight librarian's bun, she is extreemly shy, and very nervous, tends to fade into the wood work, and her life is so boring she lives in her books, fantasy and romance novels fill a bookshelf along an entire wall of her tiny apartment, and she is always carying at least two novels with her at all times.


IC:Hope Winters

After my last class i went to the library as i usually did, I sat in my usual dark corner, and did all my homework as i usually did, then i carefully pulled my paperback book out of my bag and sat there reading till the library closed as i usually did. I left the library saying good night to the librarian as i usually did and started the walk home the same way i did every day. I made my usual stop at the market and bought two slimfast shakes for breakfast and lunch the next day and a lean quizine microwave dinner and a bottle of water for tonight, the same things i bought every night. I went to the front and looked for my usual casheer, and was surprised when she wasn't there, one thing different in my boring day, surprising that such a little change would be so exciting. Now i had to choose which line to go through. A casheer was just opening her line so i dashed over and hurried out of the store after making my purchase. I wondered all the way home where the girl who was my usual casheer was. I opened the door to my one room apartment and set my bag in its usual spot, and picked up the mail before stepping in the appartment and closing the door and locking it as i usualy did. Then i set the mail on its little table as i always did and went to the minature refridgerator and put the two shakes away in the spot i always put them, put the bottle of water beside the minature microwave, and took the lean quizine meal out of its box, threw the box away and put the tray of food in the minature microwave and pushed the add a minute button four times as i always did. As it cooked i went and looked at the mail on its table as i usualy did. The first piece was one of the have you seen me fliers that i always got, I searched the woman's face for anything i recognised, then as i always did i said, "No I haven't seen you, I'm sorry." Then I put it with the others in case i did see her. The second piece was the telephone bill, i set it beside my checkbook without opening it as i always did, the cable bill still hadn't arrived yet and i always paid all the bills at one time. The third piece of mail was an advertisement for the market, which i threw away without looking at it. Why look at it when i bought the same thing every night? The fourth and last piece of mail was a thick fancy envelope with no return address on it, i checked to make sure it was sent to me, once in a while i recieved someone else's mail by mistake. But it had my name Hope Winters on it and my address so it was really sent to me. The seccond surprising thing in my usual boring day, i wondered what it meant. I set the thick envelope back on the table unopened, i would open it after dinner so i could give it my full attention. The minature microwave beeped and i went over to it opened its door, removed the tray of food, and shut its door. I peeled the plastic off and threw it away, then picked up the tray and the bottle of water and went to my chair and T.V. tray table, i set the food and bottle of water down where they always went and then sat and ate my dinner one section at a time as i always did. Then i drank the bottle of water, stood up, picked up the now empty tray and empty bottle, went to the sink and rinsed the tray off and put it and the bottle in the recycling bin as i always did. I then took my shower using the same amount of shampoo and the same amount of liquid soap as i usualy did, with the lights off and my eyes closed as i usualy did. Then i quickly dried myself and threw my caftan on before i had to see myself naked as i always did. I put all my bathing things away in their places and went to get the thick envelope and sat in my chair to open it. I carefully opened the envelope so as not to tear it in case it was sent to me by mistake. I pulled out the letter and was surprised to find an invitation to a masquarade in ellegant flowing script in green ink. This was like something exotic and exciting from one of my books, maybe...... just maybe....... it was a masquarade after all........ and it did say pleasure and delights....... and my every desire and whim fufilled......... i could be whomever i wanted to be behind a mask........ and my costume would be chosen for me and sent to me?.......... well..... i could always send it back if i had changed my mind.......... but if i didn't return the card i wouldn't have the choice......... I pulled out my lavender calligraphy pen and filled out the return card figuring it might even be a mistake, put it in the envelope provided and went and slipped it in the outgoing mail slot in the door. There, decision made, and now i had endless days to wonder, would i really go? what costume would be sent to me? who were the host and hostess? And as i pulled out my sofa-bed and crawled in my last thought before falling asleep was, if the invitation was really for me, why did they choose me?

 

[Merelan]

OOC I am so excited about all of you attending our Masquarade. This weekend I shall be posted your costumes here. bear with me as it takes awhile to "peek" at all your profiles and read some of your previous postings. It gives me a feel of what I shall send. If for any reason you choose to back out, please let me know. Especially as I may be "pairing" the costumes in my mind. And once the Ball starts, if you need to leave. Write a feasible way out so you don't leave other players hanging. Please.
Also, if I choose a costume that you don't like, or a character you don't feel like playing. Just email me, or pm me. This is for fun.

Wiggling and excited.

 

[Roland Gilliad]

Oooh...Merelan wiggling....major w00tage..

 

[Merelan]

OOC You silly..... honest friends, I am working on the costumes. Will post as soon as i get them settled.

 

[MissTaken]

I would be happy to help, Merelan!

I have some old bed sheets that would make great ghosties...if you don't mind floral ghosties! lol



*smirk*

I am pretty excited about this Masquerade!