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Mahin Hassud

Princess Jasmine

0 · 416 views · located in Essex, Connecticut

a character in “Storybook: A Grimm World”, as played by mombie

Description

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Image M A H I D x H A S S U D Image
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Image . B A S I C S . Image Image Image


§ . m o n i k e r ( s ) . none of note

§ . g e n d e r . female

§ . a g e . 26

§ . s e x u a lx o r i e n t a t i o n . heterosexual

§ . o r i g i n . Agrabah (Jasmine), Afghanistan (Mahin)

§ . r e l a t i o n s h i pxs t a t u s . married

§ . f a i r y t a l e . Princess Jasmine

§ . o c c u p a t i o n . renown woman's rights activist, author, YouTuber, and Blogger


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Image . A P P E A R A N C E .

§ . e y e s . russet brown

§ . h a i r .black, thick, length to the backs of her knees

§ . h e i g h t . 5'5"

§ . w e i g h t . 142 lbs

§ . p h y s i q u e . soft, hourglass

§ . d e s c r i p t i o n . Princess Jasmine has a gentle hourglass figure that is less lean than it is a bit on the "softer" side. She's definitely got a healthy amount of fat to her curves, and that includes her stomach and waist area. However, she doesn't mind the extra layers because she's utterly comfortable in her own body. She has thick long hair that is as black as a raven, and it flows down to the backs of her knees in thick dark waves. She has very warm skin like golden desert sand devoid of marring and blemishes. Jasmine's eyes are equally as warm, and they are said to be kind and trusting yet also fierce in that sort of way that one will know she kneels for no individual that might seek to look down at her.

Mahid, much like Jasmine, enjoys clothing that is freeing. After coming to the United States from a country that sought to swathe her in dark robes from sole to crown, she was happy to be in a place that will allow her to expose as much or as little of herself as she wished. Being a woman that seeks warmer climates, her dress can be seen as a bit on the scanty side, and if not - they are often bellowing and of thin make. She is undeniably feminine; enjoying things that are so storybook female that it would make anyone's eyes roll. Her nails are always done, her make-up is on point, and she certainly knows how to show off curvaceous beauty modestly (or not so much). She is a well-known women's rights activist, so she isn't about to let anyone tell her what to wear.



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Image . C H A R A C T E R .

§ . p e r s o n a l i t y . Both Jasmine and Mahin have lived lives that crushed their spirits. They were told how to dress, act, and so on and so forth. In both of these stories, the main takeaway is that they both eventually say "Fuck it" and break the chains of constriction. Neither personality believes that women are a commodity to be used and eyed, but that they should be appreciated for the value that gender brings. Mahin was once a conservative woman in a country that treated her sex like objects to be shunned, and now that she's in America - she's chasing the liberty of women across the globe.

As meek as she might look, she is not to be trifled with. While she is not rude or anti-man, she is very aggressive facing sexism and misogyny in all of its ugly forms. She is outspoken, intelligent, and a smooth political person to be admired. Men are often taken aback by her boldness, but she doesn't believe that everything a man does equals misogyny. She still very much loves a guy that still has some chivalry in their blood. Her views are strong, but she knows that her experiences are real even if they have not been lived by everyone. Through countless television talk shows, news pieces, blogs, videos, and even with two books published, she actively pursues the liberation of women in countries where they are not free.

United States feminism does not radiate as strongly with her, and she will often butt heads with people regarding wage gaps and this or that. To her, these are small things and she believes that anyone in America can live a life of dreams if they truly work hard for it. As harsh as that may sound to others, it is her truth. Her mission is not about what she considers "petty First World problems", but genuine deeply rooted anti-women beliefs held in countries where women are miserable. She agrees on some things, but she doesn't want to tell the stories of women that have rights - she wants to be the voice of those that have none at all. She is not everyone's feminist, but she is feminist in her own right.

Overall, she is a deeply caring woman. Everyone is worthy of something in her eyes. She doesn't have much love life and she doesn't date, but the time isn't there for her. Something inside of her just reminds her that men are greedy and horrible and that there is nothing for her with them.



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Image . A B I L I T I E S .


§ . s t r e n g t h s . diplomacy, charisma, determination

§ . w e a k n e s s . physically weak, prone to being emotional, impulsive decisions

§ . s n a k e c h a r m e r . Jasmine can talk to and command serpents.

§ . r a j a h . This is the tiger that we commonly see in the stories, and both Rajah and Jasmine seem to understand one another. Her companion will fight for her, and kill if needed.

§ Princess Jasmine doesn't really have a lot of power when you think about it. Her physical abilities are slight, and she's not really built for swiftness, stamina, endurance, or strength. It doesn't mean that she won't try, it just means that she's less likely to be successful in a situation that requires any kind of combat. However, she will attempt to reason through most things. Whatever she may lack physically she makes up for in grace, charm, and the ability to talk her way out of anything. Rajah will do much of the fighting for her, and he's slightly stronger in all ways - as well as is bigger - than normal tigers.

Mahin is really just a typical human woman that has little to no experience with fighting, doesn't care for the gym, and has no real idea of how she hasn't been kidnapped yet.



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Image . H I S T O R Y .

Princess Jasmine is the daughter of the Sultan in Agrabah. In the original story, she was actually promised to the son of Aladdin who had been spying her during baths without her knowing. Upon telling his mother of his new love for the princess, she went to the Sultan and told him of her son's violent love for his daughter. She revealed jewels beneath a napkin she had held in her hands and told him that if he would give her son three months then he would be able to offer more. She did this so that Aladdin, who threatened that he might do something drastic to get the Princess, might gain her in a more reasonable manner. The Sultan agreed to the marriage.

However, in two months Aladdin would find that his daughter was to be married to the son of the Grand Vizier and was enraged that the Sultan's promise had been broken. He commanded the Genie to bring him the Princess and her new groom, then to leave the man outside in the cold. The Genie transported the bed the betrothed were asleep into Aladdin's chamber, and the groom was cast outside in the cold. Aladdin would lay down with Jasmine, but she had been too frightened to speak which made her night miserable. At the appointed hour, the groom was collected and both he and Jasmine were teleported back to the palace. When she told her mother about the incident, she was laughed at and told it was all just a dream. She did not speak to her father about this. When it happened the following night, she still did not speak to him. He threatened to cut her head off for her silence, and she confessed. The Sultan also asked the Vizier to inquire into this matter with his own son, and the story was confirmed. The Vizier's son feared for her life, and even though he loved her dearly, he asked to be separated.

Aladdin's mother was sent to remind the Sultan, at the end of the three months, of his promise to her. When he realized that Aladdin was deep in poverty, he would not grant him the promise. The price of Jasmine's marriage would be so rich that none could possibly live up to it. However, Aladdin had the Genie, and with this, he was able to pay the price for her hand. He asked for: twenty slaves, ten thousand pieces of gold, a horse grander than the Sultan's, and a palace. All of this was granted, and he was married to Princess Jasmine.

When Aladdin left on a hunting trip for eight days, a Magician from Africa decided to take advantage. He went to the palace under the guise as a merchant for lamps, and Jasmine wanted to see what the fuss was about. Since she did not know the value of Aladdin's lamp, she exchanged it for a new one. He rubbed the lamp and commanded that the palace and the princess be moved to him in a lonely place in Africa. The Sultan noticed this immediately and sent for Aladdin's execution, but the people's admiration for the man stayed the Sultan's hand. Aladdin looked for Jasmine for three days before he rubbed a ring that he wore and prayed. This ring brought him the same Genie from the caves, and he commanded that he bring the palace and Jasmine back. However, the Genie said that he must ask that of the Genie in the Lamp, but he did grant Aladdin's next wish which was to simply transport him to Jasmine.

Jasmine was forced to endure the company of the magician once a day, but she was horrible to him. He did not wish to live with her. One day, one of her slaves saw Aladdin outside of a window, and Jasmine ran out to him. She confessed that she was the cause of the misfortune. She and Aladdin hatched a plan to reclaim it, and through a feast, Aladdin killed the magician and the palace and Jasmine were back in Agrabah. She then met the magician's brother who was disguised as a woman named "Fatima". Fatima was a "holy woman" outside of the palace curing ailments of all sorts when the Princess had seen her. She desired the woman's company, and Fatima said that she wished she has a roc's egg - that it make the palace a wonder of the world. Jasmine's mind became wrapped around this idea, and she asked Aladdin to wish for it. This angered the Genie, for this was his master she had asked for. He told them that this holy woman was really a magician that wanted to kill Aladdin. The magician succumbed to Aladdin's hand.

Jasmine, tired of being duped and causing more trouble for her husband than not, tried to run away from the palace. During this time Aladdin was off fighting some battle, and she was determined to get out from underneath him. To get out from being underneath anyone. He blamed the lamp, but the true villain in this story has always been Aladdin.

Mahin is from Afghanistan. She lived a life of quiet solitude with her husband. For all that she knows, she's been married to him since she was very, very young. It was an arranged thing. After a few years of being tortured by the thoughts of freedom but still being bound by the chains of tradition, she tried to escape her country. She was offered Asylum in the United States and used her citizenship to do good. She wrote a book that she didn't think anyone would be interested in, but it exploded across the world. She has become an avid fighter for the freedom of women in the Middle East ever since.

She's only been in Essex for two days because of car trouble, and she stays at the local hotel for now.



coding x mombie | fc x Golshifteh Farahani | hex# x #e2b985

So begins...

Mahin Hassud's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Elena Lux Character Portrait: Roman Scarrott Character Portrait: John Waldmann Character Portrait: Paisley Lawrence Character Portrait: Grayson Hughes Character Portrait: Liesl Voigt
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#, as written by mombie
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_______________________

~ Once Upon A Time ~
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It would seem, that in the Realm of Enchantment, there are heroes and there are villains. At least, that's what we were all told anyway. The truth is this - we don't know their real stories. We don't know why the villains became the bad characters we know and the heroes the pinnacle of goodness. The Realm of Enchantment is not truly painted in black and white in the way that the books and movies would tell us. In this world, one would be surprised to find out that not all things are as we were told...

The Enchanted Realm is in chaos. Villains are sick of the world they live in where the "heroes" are free to live their lives and all others are condemned. They want their freedom, too. They have been wronged and their pasts have been twisted beyond belief. They do have a purpose in life. They have a will to live. The desire, most of all, their very own happy ending. However, with the heroes standing in their way at every turn, they have come to only one conclusion - the good guys would have to die.

Jafar was one of these villains. He had the most powerful weapon in all of the Enchanted Realm at his greedy fingertips; the omnipotent Genie. With the help of so many other misunderstood characters wallowing on their seeming unhappy-ever-afters, a plan to bring death to all of the Realm's "heroes" was conceived. As others across the Realm heard news of this dark plan, they began to try to figure out how to stop it.

However, they could not stop Jafar. In their finals moments, the heroes that knew death was coming clung to the most powerful white magic in all the Realm - hope. It was this hope that, when Jafar's magic swept across the Realm, kept their physical bodies alive and thrust them through a rift between Enchantment and the real world. The rift created a town out of nothing called Storybook, Connecticut - known to the real world as Essex. The people that enter can't ever seem to leave, and it doesn't exist on any map.

Jafar was not happy that his plan did not work exactly, but upon discovering that they were in a new place, he had the Genie erase everyone's memories and give them new lives in this new world. He kept certain villains with their memories intact. He currently runs the Councillor's office under Mayor Catherine Wyland. Those in charge are in complete control of everyone, yet everyone else thinks they are living a perfectly normal life.

This is their happily-ever-after, and they intend to keep it that way - no matter what.

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~ Memories ~
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An only lady came tumbling out of a well in the woods, falling flat on her face! She got up, wiped away the dirt, and pat down her fluffy blue dress. "My, my, my, what a trip! What a trip." She took a quick look around her surroundings. It's the middle of the night and most of the town of Essex is asleep or in their homes. She walked down a beaten path until a road was found, at which point she could see the sleepy streets and dark buildings.

"Where am I?" she asked, adjusting the glasses to sit better across her nose. Her eyes scrunched and she dipped a hand into her dress and produced a wand. "Let's see what we can do about this mess. It's quite the mess!" The old lady already knew what had happened to the Enchanted characters, but she didn't know how to fix the problem. She had magic, but she didn't have enough of it to awaken the whole town. Instead, she decided that she could do something else... She did not come here without a plan, after all.

She bippity-boppity-booped herself from one building and home to the next; acquiring items and placing them in a seemingly endless magic bag. Underneath everyone's doors, except for the villains that were well-aware of Essex and its true nature, were given invitations to a formal silent auction event at the city hall. For those vile beings that still retained their memories, she had something else - magic that would put them to sleep for twenty-four hours. That would be enough time to allow everyone else to enjoy the event and get back what belonged to them - their memories.

The Enchanted Realm was falling apart due to key characters having been ripped away and thrown into this prison. It is time for them to come home, but they'd have to remember who they are, first.

As quietly as the Fairy Godmother came, she seemed to disappear. But not back into the Enchanted Realm, rather as the out-of-town host to the black-tie event.

* * *

And that is where the citizens of Storybook are tonight on a warm summer evening around 6 pm at city hall. Upon entering they are greeted by a humble doorman, and the normally bland interior is alight with grandeur, enchantment and alive with gentle classical music.

Mrs. Picket is there to greet them with a smile on her face, directing everyone toward the grand hall that had been refurbished into a room fit for dance, entertainment, and food.

Hugging one of the walls are long tables that have items to be silently auctioned off. Little to the knowledge of the Enchanted characters, they are items that belonged to them in their fairytale origins. They feel compelled to bid on their trinkets, no matter how absurd they were or how little money they had. Every so often, a little magic would make sure that no one was outbid by either erasing higher bids or placing an extra zero or two by certain names.

Mrs. Picket operated under the notion that all money would be donated to charity, but there'd be no money at all. Mrs. Picket was putting all of her faith, the lives of those still in the Enchanted Realm, in the hands of these few. This was the only way to begin breaking the spell Jafar cast upon the town.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Adrien Duval Character Portrait: Ricardo Trujillo Character Portrait: Lorelei Voigt Character Portrait: Mahin Hassud
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#, as written by mombie
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R i c a r d o x T r u j i l l o

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#4d2915 || Outfit || City Hall

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The estate that belonged to Ricardo rested on a hill that overlooked the town, and it had an eerie appearance to it. It was rather... baroque in design. It was quiet; not a creature stirring neither day nor night save for the manor's servants that care for the yards. Even then, the high privacy walls and the tall foliage rarely offered a glimpse beyond its unwelcoming dimly lit exterior.

Throughout the day it had been just as silent as ever, only the interior bustled with excitement. Their Master would venture outside, and that was exceedingly rare these days. Unless he felt the urge to watch Lorelei for a little while, like the awkward unrequited stalker he was, he sent servants to do his bidding. This evening, however, he would put on his very best and attempt to enjoy some time away. It took much convincing after receiving the invitation, but he had long since relented to the bubbly over-excited lady that was Mary Potterson.

"There really isn't a reason for me to go," he grumbled as Mary placed a wine-colored suit on his bed after going through his closet for roughly half an hour.

With a head shake of disappointment, she wagged an index finger at him, "Don't you think it's about that time for you to... I don't know, stop stalking the poor girl and talk to her?"

He scoffed at her after he moved to a place where he could get dressed with a little privacy. While he had been with Mary since he broke into the millions in net worth, he didn't exactly need to excite an old lady with his perfectly masculine body. She might have a heart attack. "And say what? Hello, I've been watching you for a while now, would you like to go to dinner with me?" He poked his head out from behind the dressing partition with a brow raised, but the sarcasm in both his tone of voice and expression was pretty damn obvious.

"Oh, dear - I wouldn't begin with that!"

He threw his jacket over his vest and began to button it up, "She probably just thinks I am a criminal anyway. I don't exactly want to see her look at me." He finished up after about ten minutes, walked out to do a little spin for Mary to which she clapped excitedly.

"You're so handsome, love! I'm sure you'll have a most splendid evening."

After she practically bounced out of his room, he turned around to look in the tall mirror back at himself. It wasn't to check on his appearance, as he found himself to be quite perfect in almost every way. Rather, he just looked at himself, as if there was some way he could see beneath the exterior and find something he never knew. Maybe a little bit of confidence. Maybe a little bit of pride. Yet, he had all of that in spades. To everyone else, he was no better than Adrien - a criminal, another psychopath with a big head. But Ricardo knew better - he was so profoundly alone that he didn't feel like himself anymore. He'd love nothing more than to make the most out of his evening, wear his emotions on his sleeve with a confident swagger, and tell the woman he thinks he is enamored with how he feels. But the more that he looks at himself, and the more he has seen her, the more he realizes that she'd be just as tormented with him as she is with Adrien. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but yes - something was fundamentally wrong.

"Monsieur, the car is ready to take you to the City Hall," a thickly laced french accent called through his doorway, and Ricardo sighed. Fine. He'll go for an hour or so, hang out somewhere no one notices him, and make his donation. It would be easy. Nothing could go wrong. Besides, a man like Adrien wouldn't be invited to such a proper event.

Right? Wrong.

When he arrived at City Hall, it took a few minutes for him to get out of the car, even though that left Jacque standing there awkwardly for quite some time. Eventually, he climbed out, walked toward the entrance, and entered the building where he would be greeted by Mrs. Picket. He didn't know her, but he deeply felt that he should. She was important somehow, he just couldn't figure out why.

"Mr. Trujillo, I am so glad you could make it." she smiled at him and offered a hand, in which he gave his most charming smile and lifted it to gently kiss the knuckles. It was a common formality where he was from, and a sign of deep respect and admiration.

After he released her fingers, "Thank you for the invite. Where do I make my donation?" If he could just show his face for a few minutes and make his donation, he could be in and out before anyone noticed him.

But Mrs. Picket laughed warmly, "I'm afraid that donations will be through the auction only," she reminded him, sweeping a gloved hand toward the Grand Hall where the auction tables lined the walls. She gave him a piece of paper with a random number on it after he released her fingers, #237. "It's a silent auction. Just write this number down along with your bid. Don't give this number to anyone else."

"Ah, of course. I'll be going then."

"Of course! Please enjoy your evening, Mr. Trujillo," she chimed and beamed him her best smile. Others were beginning to trickle in, so she'd have to get back to greeting!

Ricardo shoved a hand in his pocket, quickly glanced at a few guests and servers, and made his way toward the auction table that rested against the left wall. For some reason, he caught something in his peripheral that he immediately latched onto. Something inside of him urged the man to proceed, and he did.

When he came to the table, of which was covered in a fine crimson satin cloth, a rather... simple looking rose trapped in a glass dome caught his attention. His brows furrowed. He wasn't interested in things like this. What was he supposed to do with it? It looked like a genuine rose with a few fallen petals, but there was nothing enthralling about it. Still, he wrote his number down and put his bid on it. He had to have it. $10,000 for some junk - what was he thinking?

When that was complete, he perused the other objects. He didn't feel any level of attraction to anything. Until something else caught his eye. It was the antique black necklace, and he took a moment to pick it up and brush his finger over the onyx surface and the silver filigree. Would Lorelei like this? No. Maybe. No. He stood there like an idiot going over it in his head - yes, no - maybe - she'd be sick to get something from someone like him. Still, he looked down at it as it rested against a calloused palm with a clear battle waging internally.






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#e2b985 || Outfit || City Hall

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To say that she was surprised to have an invitation slipped under the door of her hotel room was an understatement. Then again, Mahin was used to being recognized once she was in town. She just didn't think it'd be this town. It was small, and for the whole two days she's been stuck here, she hasn't met very many people aside from the person that runs the mechanic shop and maybe the local law enforcement.

Still, she could not begin to fathom why she had received the invite. Not that she'd decline, of course. It was a great opportunity for philanthropy, and she couldn't help but be curious at what might be getting auctioned off in a town like Essex.

Luckily for her, since she had been on her way to an activist convention, Mahin already had an outfit that would suffice for a black-tie event. She tugged on a black dress, fit on some open-toed heels, grabbed a purse, and left the hotel. She'd end up walking to City Hall, but luckily it wasn't cold outside and the establishment was not very far.

She walked into City Hall shortly after Ricardo. In fact, she waited patiently for him to finish so that she could get in and peruse the auction items. Mahin would love to pick up a souvenir from Essex for the sake of being a silly tourist.

"Good evening! Thank you very much for the invite, Mrs. Picket," she smiled at the hostess after she was promptly greeted when Ricardo left.

"Miss Hassud, it is lovely to see that you have made it. I love your work," Mrs. Picket replied as she offered the woman a friendly smile. She handed Mahin a piece of paper with the number 192 before directing her to the grand hall. There was music and catering, tables for sitting, long ones nestled against the wall laden with auction trinkets. Mahin was immediately enchanted by the setting.

She walked to the same table that Ricardo occupied and watched him stare at the jewelry piece cradled in his palm, "Trying to bid on something for your wife?" She assumed that he was married. A man that handsome had to be taken, and he looked like a really made guy. For him to be single would be flabbergasting.

Ricardo looked up from the Onyx necklace, "I'm not married." His voice was gruff in nature and somewhat frigid. It didn't appear that he wanted to converse, but that wouldn't stop Mahin.

"Well, you must like someone to be thinking so deeply about a necklace," she chuckled at him, looking down at something gold that snatched her attention. "Oh, wow - who would have known a place like this would have something so... refined," she mused.

He turned his head toward her after setting down the necklace and parroted"A town like this?"

She looked up at him after putting her number and bid by the princess jewelry set for $500, "I didn't mean it like that!" This statement was deeply apologetic, and honestly, Ricardo looked like someone that couldn't take a joke. Rather than continue this awkward first impression, she pointed to the swan feather quill, "Jewelry is a bit old fashioned. Maybe you could try something like this?"

Maybe she was right - jewelry was old-fashioned. Then again, so was Ricardo. He forgot about her slight against the town he's come to call home and looked down at the quill. It was... a unique item for sure. He picked it up for an inspection as Mahin fluttered away to see what was on the catering menu.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roman Scarrott Character Portrait: Grayson Hughes Character Portrait: Liesl Voigt Character Portrait: Adrien Duval Character Portrait: Lorelei Voigt Character Portrait: Mahin Hassud
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#, as written by mjolnir
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liesl voigt
black swanx|xoutfitx|x#19244e

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Liesl was fully aware of Adrien's hand on her waist as he guided her through the door. She didn't know what gave her more satisfaction the fact that someone as gorgeous as him looked her way or that he snubbed her sister. Probably the later. She'd soak up the moment however long it lasted. Being seen with Adrien was a boost to anyone's status. He was one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in town. She'd give him all the attention he wanted.

Shortly after stepping into the foyer, a small white haired woman stepped before them holding out cards with numbers on them. Before Mrs. Picket could talk, Liesl took the paper, gave the woman a curt smile and continued into the great hall. She didn't look behind her to see if Adrien followed, but his gaze was on her. That she could feel.

Her eyes scanned the gathering, which felt to be lacking a fair number of people. Liesl was never one to be particularly punctual, but what she thought was fashionably late seemed to be right on time. What a pity. As she looked around her gaze fell on Lorelei, who stood at the bar looking like a disco ball doily. That dress was something, to say the least. She smirked to herself as she changed her path to beeline straight for her sister.

Just as she had nearly reached the bar, Lorelei caught sight of her and left, heading for the auction display. Liesl scoffed, more to herself. Typical Lorelei. Since she was already at the bar, Liesl ordered a martini with extra olives and lingered for a moment to take a couple sips. With drink in hand, she started to follow after her sister.

She found Lorelei standing at the table of objects, staring at what looked like a perfectly preserved rose held in one of those jars you'd see in some voodoo hut with a bird skull inside. It was an odd item that didn't look particularly worth anything. Usually at these types of functions it was jewels, pieces of art and such. But a quick glance around the room showed the collection of objects to be out of the ordinary, to say the least. What did she expect from some small forgettable town like Essex. Class didn't really exist there.

"What would you even do with that?" Liesl asked before taking a sip of her drink.

Lorelei jumped slightly, not realizing she had popped up behind her. "What do you want, Liesl?" she asked, annoyed, as she moved down the line to the next object, hoping Liesl wouldn't follow. Wrong.

"I actually had a question." Liesl followed her sister, a few steps behind. Her gaze fell to a pair of manky old ballet slippers. Her face twisted in disgust. "...Gross."

"Is there no one else you can bother?" Lorelei didn't bother looking up or stopping to listen to whatever her sister had to say.

"Is that any way to talk to your sister?" Liesl mused in a mocking tone.

Lorelei scoffed and rolled her eyes. She could always count on Liesl to try and lay on the guilt trips. And while it might have worked when they were younger, she was older and wiser now. At this point, she might have been the only person immune to her manipulative nature. She knew her sister didn't care about anyone but herself, and that included what others thought about her. She wasn't there to please others. The only pleasure she sought was her own and she didn't care how she had to accomplish it.

"Is Adrien single? I figured with you being his indentured servant and all that, you probably know him better than most people do." Liesl raised her glass to her lips and paused just before taking a drink. "Maybe I should have taken that job," she whispered.

"You're welcome to have it," Lorelei replied coldly. Her feet slowed to a halt when her gaze fell upon a white feather. It wasn't something that would normally catch her attention, but she couldn't pull her eyes from the swan feather quill.

"Well... Is he?" Liesl didn't back down and continued to follow after her sister, silently judging all the items up for auction as they went.

"What does it matter? It hasn't stopped you before," Lorelei responded in a matter of fact manner as she glanced over her shoulder slightly to look towards Liesl. She sighed, realizing that she wouldn't leave her be until she got an answer. "Mr. Duval doesn't have girlfriends. He has flings."

Liesl smirked as she took the toothpick from her drink and ate one of the olives. "He could fling me."

"Jesus christ."

"Oh, lighten up." Liesl groaned as she passed off her empty glass to a passing waiter. "Maybe you're the one who needs a good... fling." Her sister was so damn uptight that you could shove a piece of coal up her ass and get a diamond. If she was a decent sister, maybe she'd persuaded Lorelei to go fuck the dreamy Adrien. But she wasn't. She was selfish and once she set her gaze on something, it was hers. And it gave Liesl an extra level of satisfaction knowing he dropped her sister like a bag of rocks when she showed up.

"Are we done here?" Lorelei snapped.

Liesl clicked her tongue in her mouth. "Suit yourself. More for me," she said as her gaze fell to the quill as her sister gently stroked the feather. Her brows furrowed as she snatched it from Lorelei and studied it. Nothing about it seemed particularly attention grabbing. Who used quills anyway? "The only action you get is from your books." She rolled her eyes and dropped it back onto the table, bending the feather slightly in her carelessness.

Without another word, Liesl left her sister huffing over the damaged feather and made her way around the room. Nothing looked particularly nice or worth any of her money. At least, that's what she thought until she reached the far end of one table where a antique black necklace rested on a simple black velvet mannequin. Normally, something like that wouldn't be her style. It was a bit gaudy and a little too vintage for her liking. But no matter how much she tried to move on and look at other items, she kept getting drawn back to the pendant. She sighed and finally decided to at least put a small bid on it. She'd keep coming back to it if she didn't. And who knows, maybe she could get it for cheap enough that she'd be able to pawn it for double the price.

Just as she went to grab a pen, Adrien appeared beside her with a sly smile, holding out a card with his number on it. "A necklace that beautiful belongs on your neck and your neck alone." He took up the pen and held it out to her as he leaned on the table slightly. As Liesl took the offered writing utensil, she looked down at the card and saw the price amount was blank. His gaze was almost testing her to see how much she'd put down. How much was she worth in the eyes of Adrien Duval?

Without batting an eye, she scribbled down $50,000 and tossed the card into the box beside the necklace. Adrien's smirk only grew as he pushed off the table. He began to walk passed her and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I would have paid triple." His hand lightly brushed along her lower back, just above her bottom as he parted ways and headed for the bar.




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roman scarrott
the geniex|xoutfitx|x#5890c9

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Roman hadn't been in town for very long, a week or two at most. He was only passing through, but something about Essex called to him. His road trips rarely had any destinations, so it was any other stop to him. He could refuel, maybe do some light work for a quick buck or two, and then he'd be on the road in no time. Normally he only stayed in a town for a couple of days at most, but something kept him there, while he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Essex was nothing special. He had seen dozens like it, yet he still lingered.

Then, almost like divine intervention, the morning he was planning on leaving, he exited his van to take his dog Nan on a walk and found an invitation sitting perfectly on his bumper. It was strange, no doubt. Why would some drifter who's barely been in town warrant an invitation to... Well, to anything? Did anyone there even know his name?

He contemplated the charity auction on his whole walk. Roman didn't have much to offer when it came to charity. He lived out of a van for christ's sake. But he couldn't bring himself to throw it out. And before he knew it, he was searching his small mobile home for an outfit that could pass as being acceptable. One thing was for sure, he didn't own anything even remotely close to black tie formal, nor did he have the money to blow on a suit.

When the night came, Roman did his best to dress nicely. He had a sports coat so that was... something. He left the TV on playing looney tunes for Nan. The old girl always enjoyed watching cartoons and it'd be enough to keep her busy for a couple hours while he went to the auction. He wasn't a horrible pet owner. He always left shows running for her, food and water, blankets and even had the windows cracked with a couple small fans. It was a dog's paradise in there. The only thing people might hear when passing by would be her loud bear like snores.

It didn't take Roman long to walk to the city hall. As he got closer, he became more self-conscious seeing others enter in tuxedos and expensive evening gowns. Just before ascending the stairs, he stepped to the side and tied his hair back in the slickest man-bun he could manage. He adjusted his jacket with a deep breath before entering.

Once inside, he quickly began to feel like he didn't fit in. Roman stood out like sore thumb in his thrift store clothes. He was tall enough that no one could miss him. That included a petite white haired woman who made her way over to him. "Thank you for coming Mr. Scarrott," she said while offering him her right hand.

Roman couldn't recall ever meeting the woman before nor for there to be any reason for her to invite him to this event. But he tried to brush it off, thinking perhaps he simply forgot. His massive hand took hers gently and gave it a friendly shake. "Thank you for the invite, although I'll admit, I don't think I quite fit in."

Mrs Picket smiled sweetly. "You fit in more than you realize." Strange comment. Roman just smiled instead and offered a chuckle to hide some of his confusion. "Have you ever been to a silent auction?"

"No. But I've head enough about them."

The woman held out a card labeled #103. "If you have any questions, feel free to ask."

Roman saluted slightly with the card before the woman wondered off to greet the next arrival. He stood around like an awkward giant in the middle of the room, messing with his card as he tried to figure out what to do. Eventually his feet carried him over to the auction items. It was a strange assortment of objects ranging from antique jewelry to other things that look like they could have been fished out of the trash. It was a little odd, but then again, he wasn't sure how rich people functioned. And while they might have looked like trash, maybe they were collectors items? Who knew.

Most things he saw no use for. Life in the back of a van didn't leave Roman much room for luxuries. It was tight living quarters, especially with a big dog. There were somethings he thought could be mildly useful like the leather satchel, but last time he checked he had no use for weapons or baubles. He had all but given up on seeing anything that really caught his attention when he stumbled upon the antique Arabian oil lamp. He liked the way it looked and it'd definitely matched the hippie aesthetic he unintentionally had going on with his gypsy lifestyle. But what kind of use could he have for a damn oil lamp?

That was a fire hazard waiting to happen. He could see Nan knocking it over with her tail and burning down whatever stuff Roman did own. Perhaps he could use it to hold incense. Not that he had any of that either. Yet, he still wanted it... for God knows why. With a sigh, he pulled out his wallet and counted what money he had. He put down his bid of $20, although he knew there was no way he'd win. He saw the cars some people arrived in and their fancy suits. They had money to spare. But at least he tried.

Feeling a bit defeated, Roman made his way over to the food menu. Rich people could afford the most ridiculous food. He hoped that whatever was in store sounded appetizing, then he'd at least get something out of the night. Standing there, he happened to notice a woman beside him. At first he thought nothing of it, but on second glance her face looked familiar. "Sorry to bother you, but you're that famous author, right?... Hassud?" His face scrunched slightly as hoped he pronounced her last name correctly. "Didn't think I'd run into someone famous here?"




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grayson hughes
robin hoodx|xoutfitx|x#99bfaa

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Grayson had far more important things on his plate than going to a charity auction. Sure it was for a good cause and he was always one to want to help out with charity. But there was so much to do at work that it was hard to justify leaving. Lately, the Sheriff had gotten lazier with his duties and the only thing he did do was sit his fat ass at his desk and eat donuts. All the while leaving a whole precincts worth of work to just Grayson. He'd get into work at 7 in the morning, and then wouldn't get back home until after midnight. He was exhausted.

A week or so before the auction, he ran into Mrs. Picket while on patrol and when he mentioned he wouldn't be able to attend, she seemed heart broken. She stood there and tried to convince him to go for the better part of half an hour. When he realized she wasn't going to give, he finally agreed.

So there he was, heading toward the stairs that lead up to City Hall. Grayson was late, of course. Even when he tried to be on time for something, he never could be. Something always came up and it was up to him to take care of it. But, honestly, he was happy to be late. Maybe then he could slip in unnoticed. Nothing in his closet even remotely said black tie formal. He had the suit he wore for his job interview years ago and that was about it. Hell, he was lucky it still fit him but he look like a damn FBI agent from a 90's movie. Ridiculous. So, any excuse to go unseen the better.

Upon entering the main hall, Mrs. Picket was right there, ready to happily greeted him. "Officer Hughes! I'm so glad you could make it."

"Of course," he said giving his best smile, trying not to overly adjust his suit. "I did promise, didn't I?"

The older woman held out a card with a unique number on it. "If you want to bid on anything just use this number. All the proceeds go to charity and we'll announce all the winners before the night is over."

"Thank you, Mrs. Picket." He flashed her a smile and tucked the card away in his breast pocket.

Grayson slid his hands into his pockets as he slowly walked around the large gathering. The bar looked enticing, but he didn't get a drink. Although he was technically off the clock, he was always working. He didn't like how alcohol made everything... cloudy. So, rather, he made a lap around the grand hall. So far he saw no one he was particularly close enough with to just join in on their conversation. He might have known nearly everyone there, but that didn't put them on friendly terms. To most there he was just the local cop. Part of him wondered how many of them actually knew his first name. Still, he smiled at every familiar face and nodded his head while he walked about.

He let his feet idly carry him about the room until he finally ended up near the auction tables. Grayson looked over every item. There were antiques, clothes, knick knacks, and everything in between. Mrs. Picket definitely made an effort to have a little bit of everything to try and accommodate everyone. Many of it looked like collectors items to some degree, nothing he knew much about. His pace slowed down near a medieval bow and quiver. It looked like it belonged in a museum, not at some small town's auction. Everything looked handmade, down to the arrows. He could even see where repairs were made on the quiver, and wear on the handle from use.

Without much thought, Grayson wrote down a bid of $200 and slipped the paper into the box. Honestly, he didn't know why he did it. What need did he have a bow anyway? It'd just sit collecting dust in his apartment. Maybe he could donate it to the local museum or something. He wasn't sure. But regardless, it was too late now and the bid was placed. He wasn't even sure if he had money like that to spend, but it was a gut feeling... He just had to try and get it.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roman Scarrott Character Portrait: John Waldmann Character Portrait: Paisley Lawrence Character Portrait: Liesl Voigt Character Portrait: Adrien Duval Character Portrait: Mahin Hassud
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#, as written by mombie
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P a i s l e y x L a w r e n c e

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b e l l e
#D35950 || Outfit || Location

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D u m a i n e x L e R o u x

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d r . x f a c i l i e r
#4B0082 || Outfit || Location

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It had been a great day. Well, about as great as a day in Essex could get when your soul didn't quite belong and yearned for freedom. Paisley had taken an impromptu hike in the mountains, just to clear her mind. She never enjoyed the walls of her cabin much anyhow. This adventurous mind had craved something outside of being cooped up within four walls or even being out in the streets of a mundane town with people that did mundane things. Regardless, the air morphed from hot to crisp cool air when she ascended, and it felt nice. It felt like freedom - the kind she no longer had.

She had stood at a good peak and peered down at the town. She could have sworn that there wasn't this much desolation on her way in, but then again, that memory had long since faded. It wasn't important. Her life had gone from high speed to low drag, and she was no in the middle of nowhere with a sudden urge to do just that; go nowhere, yet there was this other half of her that wanted to go everywhere.

Why was this life so confusing?

By the time she had made it down the less beaten mountain trail, the sun had fallen, but Paisley was not afraid of the dark. With a sigh, she pushed open the door to her quaint cabin, placed her keys on a side table, and looked down at the invitation she had set them on. Paisley supposed that she could go to such a fancy event. It would be... fun, maybe? At the very least, she could kick off her heels and dance with Lorelei.

She slipped into a fancy pants suit to flatter her petite physique. The neck plunged deeply, but she didn't have quite as much breast for it all to be falling out. When she finished putting it together, adorned it with a pair of black open-toed heels, and made the proper adjustments as she looked into the mirror, she felt she appeared... elegant, classy - not trashy.

She picked up a small clutch on her way out of the door and pinned it beneath her arm.

As minutes ticked by, Paisley was soon on the streets of the normally quiet town. It was sort of more alive as townsfolk made their way to the City Hall, which was aglow in the center. As she stopped paying attention to her surroundings to delve into her daydream of what the event may be, she bumped into none other than Essex's favorite (or not depending on who you were) tax man, Dumaine.

"O-oh, I'm sorry, Dumaine," she apologized as she knelt down to pick her fallen clutch from the sidewalk.

Dumaine smirked and knelt down with her, "What kinna'man would ah be if ah got upset over being run inta by a beautiful woman like ya, Paisley?" A light chuckle followed that statement, and he picked her clutch up to hand her when they both rose.

She also chuckled a bit, but it was not cute by any means. Dumaine was... oddly disarming. Handsome, yes. His eyes were enchanting, especially when they creased at the corners uniquely as he offered one of those charming smiles. Yet, he was also like her - desiring something more than this life. If anyone could call this a life at all, so she gave him the benefit of the doubt. He can come off as a little blunt, but she didn't mind that. Maybe there was something about his character that bothered her for some reason, but for now, she tried to save her judgment. He's never done anything to her.

Dumaine walked by her side as it seemed they were headed for the same event, "Ah saw ya comin' in late. Out adventurin' again?"

Paisley clutched her purse lightly at the lap of her slacks and looked over at Dumaine with a gentle smile, "Yes. You know, it would do you some good to get some fresh air instead of being cooped up in that stuffy office." It was a light scolding, naturally, but she was always trying to get him to go outside. It was almost like he was allergic to the great outdoors.

She really didn't have anyone to go on hikes with.

"Naw, cherie, I prefer ta not be surrounded by all that...that..." He got stuck and she cut in.

"Nature?" She laughed at him a bit and shook her head, "I guess it's not for everyone. It would be nice to have someone that enjoyed the outdoors a little bit more. You know?" She sighed a dreamy sigh at that, and Dumaine nodded slowly.

"Feelin' trapped. Ah know, chere. Ah know," he replied softly as he opened the door to the city hall for her. He naturally let Paisley go in first before coming in right behind her.

They were both greeted by Mrs. Picket and given their numbers. Dumaine went his separate way, and that left Paisley to search the hall for someone that she knew. Preferably Lorelei. Of course, she had to travel by Adrien, who was the most disgusting man in town. As she walked by him, she gave one of her "bless your heart" quips, "You are looking positively odious today, Adrien." She gave him her best saccharine smile and fluttered away just as something sparked in the corner of her eyes.

It was a mirror, but it didn't look like anything spectacular. She picked it up and flipped out from front to back and took extra care to survey the fine details. The decore was strange; the head of a lion coupled with a delicate rose. A rose and a beast; how strange. It felt heavier than other handheld mirrors. She didn't need it, so she put it down. When she walked away, she found herself walking backward a few steps before turning around to place a small bid on it. Two hundred dollars would suffice, right? She doesn't know why she wants to put a price on it, but she wasn't going to give up everything she had.

Dumaine had placed a small bid on a cane. It matched his smooth violet suit, and he thought he'd look rather dashing with it. There was no other reason - at least, he didn't think so. He made for the food immediately, of course. He stood at the long tables covered in delicacies and picked at chocolate truffles like a delighted child.

Paisley might have gone over to Lorelei, but she seemed occupied with someone else. Just as she thought she might have just walked away for good, she decided to go over anyway. Paisley was a sweet woman and she befriended most people in town, even if no one wanted to get lost in the woods with her.

"Good evening! Don't you two look absolutely ravishing!" Paisley complimented both Lorelei and Liana.

As she spoke to the pair of gals, her eyes flit from one guest to the next. She snagged the gaze of Adrien for a quick second but swiftly looked away. He likely didn't notice as he was quite busy with Liesl anyhow. Then she caught Ricardo, whom she's rarely seen. He simply nodded at her and went back to doing whatever it was that he did during these things; lurk.

Then there was Roman, and he was so handsome. A bit burly and rough looking, which kind of made her wonder about a lot of things - good and bad. His attire suited what she thought his personality must be like; carefree and roaming. He spoke to Hassud, a woman that every other woman in the world can admire.

Grayson was here as well, which surprised her. He looked tired. Paisley has come to like having the local cop around, as he has gotten her out of a few messes when her adventuring became more like disasters. He was right, she didn't know his first name, but he was so busy that there wasn't time to be more well-acquainted. She was a bother, too, getting into little messes just because being home was too... suffocating. She waved at him the moment he looked around and caught her staring.

John Waldmann. Every once in a while, when his usual babysitters were busy, she'd get the pleasure of watching his children. She has an ungodly amount of patience for little ones. His late wife was a fine connoisseur of her steamy mystery novels, and he was one of the first people to strike up easy conversation with her. They grab a cup of coffee from time to time, and you know what - he's the town's Hot Dad for good reason. She jumped up and down, as she's quite small and easily lost in the growing crowd, to wave at him like a goofy googly-eyed girl. So, maybe he has also grown on her as much as his kids have. It happens.

After her not-so-subtle display of excitement at seeing certain faces, she was content to melt back into the conversation at hand. Whatever that was. There were so many people coming together here all for one night, and that was rare in this sleepy town.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roman Scarrott Character Portrait: John Waldmann Character Portrait: Grayson Hughes Character Portrait: Adrien Duval Character Portrait: Ricardo Trujillo Character Portrait: Mahin Hassud
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#, as written by mombie
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M a h i n x H a s s u d

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p r i n c e s s x j a s m i n e
#e2b985 || Outfit || City Hall

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Mahin's svelte digits roamed the food menu word by word. Much like the eccentricities of the items being offered for auction, the food seemed rather simple. Some things required a well-cultured tongue to pronounce, but there was also care to offer the staples of what was considered an "All-American" meal; red meat, salads, and whatever else could be cooked up in a town such as this one. None of it had a price tag, of course, and the waiters only required that their guest name their desired food and beverage.

She tilted her head from side to side whilst perusing the menu, a slight hum softly emanating from her throat. Shortly before she was treated by, possibly the tallest man she'd ever seen in her life, she waved a waiter down. Mahin's smile was bright enough to make anyone return the gesture, "I'm feeling a bit like red meat. I'll take the sirloin, but very well done. Brocolli and mashed potatoes on the side," It was as generic a meal as one can get, but she's hungrier than ever. The hotel offered surprisingly good food, but then again - she shouldn't have expected less than the best hospitality from a small town.

"To drink, Ma'am?" The waiter inquired, and she tapped a finger a few times against her jawline in thought."Any kind of sweet wine you have." After the waiter's departure, seconds later came the behemoth of a man that would come into the picture. And boy - did he really tower her. Who would have thought that nearly a whole foot difference could be so... drastic.

Mahin had to tilt her head up and back at him, considering that she'd otherwise get a perfectly good look at his broad shoulder or even his chest. Not that she would mind. Would any woman? She blinked because his lips had moved, which meant he said something. Of course, like so many times, his words did make it to her ears; albeit a few seconds later. Or maybe she had heard him all along. She wasn't so sure.

"Sorry to bother you, but you're that famous author, right?... Hassud?" This piqued her interest because, while she was used to women noticing her, most men couldn't care less. She didn't fault them for that, either. She believed American Feminism has really tainted men's perspective of what the same thing looked like in different countries. "Didn't think I'd run into someone famous here."

She narrowed her right eye with faux and overly dramatic accusation, "You're one of those weirdos that watches my YouTube and leaves naughty comments, aren't you?" The way her posture seemed - lax and casual - coupled with the clear tone of her voice, is evidence enough of a really dumb jest. She couldn't help herself, as she had been taken aback by his sudden presence. Unless he had been there for a hot minute and she just didn't notice. Either way, her thoughts were just coming out of her mouth and that was not always a good thing.

She juts a thumb toward the waiter coming their way with her drink in tow, "Going to order? I just got food myself, and I was thinking of grabbing a table." As soon as she realized that he would probably like her first name, and cursed herself internally for abandoning basic manners. "You can call me Mahin, though," She stuck a hand out for him to take and then plucked the wine glass from the incoming tray.

During the introductory phase of their meeting, she spared a moment to visually shop for an empty table. It was evident that she likely asked him to join her by proxy of her own words, so she began to walk in that direction after Roman placed his own order.

"It's nice to be recognized. Didn't think my books reached towns like these," she confessed with a light chuckle, a couple of fingers pushing back a few strands of stray hair behind an ear.

Eventually, they'd make it to a table, but along the way, she often stopped to look at this or that. This whole event was so funky. Eclectic would probably be a friendlier and still very appropriate term. "This place has the weirdest things for auction I have ever seen. Did anything catch your interest?" She pulled a chair out for herself and sat, as she often liked to do things herself. At the same time, she did appreciate a chivalrous man. Believe it or not.

It didn't take very long for the pair to receive their food and the rest of the beverages. She ordered a glass of ice water to go along with it.

Mahin wasted no time digging into her meal. She loved to eat, and it showed a bit as she didn't fit the average slim women that seemed to occupy the town. Once upon a time, she used to be malnourished and sickly, so she'll take the opportunity to indulge over starvation any day of the week.

She did give Roman the bulk of her attention, but she was also curious about whatever else was going on. Conversations were lost in the din of the music and everything else, but she could pick up the nuances of body language. There was a group of women and two men hovering by one of the auction tables. Most of the women had donned pretty dresses or fancy pant-suits, and the men had a variety of fashion tastes. Everyone had their own distinct personality.

Her deep brown gaze touched Adrien for a moment. Handsome. Clearly rich. But something about him screamed at her to avoid at all costs. Ricardo - rich as well, but the same. Mahin did, in fact, notice the way he had treated Liesl. There was also the town's "Silver Fox", the resident Sheriff, and many others. Some characters were quite unusual, but she never liked to judge. So many nice-looking men all in one place. Women, too. It could only end in disaster.

Then there's Roman right in front of her - brawny, in a suit, nice hair, and just - there are not very many words. How many words in the thesaurus could also mean manly and handsome? Why are her thoughts on his looks? She blinked, not realizing that she had brought a very empty fork to her lips because the meat had fallen off seconds ago.

"You don't have a girlfriend, do you?" She blurted this out because she clearly had no problem in being honest. However, she could see how he'd misinterpret that because he's likely used to being asked that question all of the time for other reasons. "Asking just because you know my face, so you must have someone. And also, yes - I am also just wondering just because it's 2021 and I can." She shrugged at that, sawing off another piece of steak so she could stab it to death after impaling a chunk of broccoli.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Elena Lux Character Portrait: Roman Scarrott Character Portrait: John Waldmann Character Portrait: Paisley Lawrence Character Portrait: Grayson Hughes Character Portrait: Liesl Voigt
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#, as written by mjolnir
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roman scarrott
the geniex|xoutfitx|x#5890c9

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"You're one of those weirdos that watches my YouTube and leaves naughty comments, aren't you?" The woman's tone and body language made it very evident that she was making a light joke. And to be honest, even if she wasn't, Roman still might have taken it that way.

He let out a deep hearty laugh, one that would, no doubt, catch the attention of anyone nearby. "You caught me. It is I, MahinMakesMeMoist69." Ok, so the joke was a bit much. Roman hoped he didn't all but scare her away with his lewd humor. He meant nothing by it. Hopefully, she laughed at the joke rather than sneer at him in disgust. After all, she started it. But, it wouldn't be the first time Rome's jokes rubbed someone the wrong way. Some people are just too uptight for their own good.

"Going to order? I just got food myself, and I was thinking of grabbing a table." Mahin pointed towards the waiter as she spoke.

Roman hadn't realized how hungry he actually was until the idea of food was brought up. Instantly his stomach began to growl in protest. He raised his hand to pat the waiter on the shoulder. He obviously acts very appropriately for formal functions. "My guy... I'd kill for a big ass burger, fully decked, with a pint of Guinness." He smiled and gave the guy in the penguin suit a friendly wink as he left to place their orders. Rome was like a bull in a china shop when it came to formal gatherings. He was about as well mannered as a surfer.

Once the waiter was gone, Mahin addressed him once more before offering her right hand. "You can call me Mahin, though."

His hand was giant compared to hers, nearly swallowing it. But Roman still managed to be gentle, yet firm, when shaking it. "Roman Scarrott. But most people call me the Gypsy or that giant hairy guy." He laughed at his own jest. Truth was, most people didn't take the time to get to know his name before he was on the road again. And even then, they rarely ever sought out his attention enough to do anything other than pointing and saying hey you.

Roman's hands slipped into the pockets of his pants as he slowly trailed after Mahin. While she walked at a normal pace, he looked to be strolling leisurely. His long legs carried him at the same pace with fewer strides. "It's nice to be recognized. Didn't think my books reached towns like these."

"That I don't know of. I'm not from here. I'm sort of... A nomad?" His brows furrowed slightly as he tried to think of a better word for it, but came up blank. "I just kind of float from place to place. Live out of my van with my dog, Nan. I think I found your book in a small bookshop somewhere in Seattle."

Eventually the pair found their way to an empty table. "This place has the weirdest things for auction I have ever seen. Did anything catch your interest?" she commented before taking a seat.

Roman took a seat opposite her while his gaze drifted over to the tables filled with the strange array of items. "I can't say I've ever been to an auction. But the movies always make it seem like it'd be priceless art and Faberge eggs." He shrugged his shoulders slightly in confusion. He was not the person to ask when it came to auctions and their customs. "Yeah, I bid on a little oil lamp thing. I don't know," he laughed with a shrug. "I thought it looked neat. You?"

The food arrived with haste and neither one of them wasted any time before digging in. Roman's burger was giant. Luckily, so were his hands. Yet it still managed to be a bit of a challenge keeping it all together and getting it in his mouth. But man, was it delicious. He even offered Mahin a fry. He didn't know if she'd take one, finger foods at a formal event didn't seem very... proper. But it was good and Roman didn't care what people thought about him. He wasn't going to remain in town much longer anyway. Right?

His gaze lingered a bit while his mouth was full and Mahin ate. Roman didn't know much of anyone in the town. He saw the vet who helped with Nan. He smiled but she didn't notice him. He'd probably talk to her at some point in the evening. Then there was Liv and Ben from the diner, which were probably the closest to friends someone like him could get when passing through a town. He also caught glimpse of a mysterious looking guy getting very close with a red head. Roman diverted his gaze towards his glass as he took a big swig of beer. Not his place to have a thought one way or another.

"You don't have a girlfriend, do you?" Roman coughed, choking on a piece of his burger. He was an easy going man and had heard the question before, yes, but that didn't mean he wasn't surprised. It came out of left field. He never quite understood why people always seemed so interested in his relationship status, but he was flattered nonetheless. "Asking just because you know my face, so you must have someone. And also, yes - I am also just wondering just because it's 2021 and I can."

Roman took a sip of his beer to calm his throat before replying. "Is it that hard to believe a man could be a feminist?" He picked up on her implication that the knowledge he has of her and her book had to be because he had a lady friend. And while he could understand someone making that assumption, he might have thought someone as modern as Mahin might have seen it a different way. "I prefer to think of myself as more of an 'equalist'. Some feminist out there are a little too radical for my taste. But I think every deserves to be treated based on their merits as a human being, not by what's between their legs, who they fuck or what they look like."

"And no. I don't have a girlfriend... Or a boyfriend. Life on the road doesn't really give me much of a chance to set down roots." He took a second to eat the last bite of his burger while it was warm and chased it with a drink. "But it does give me time to read." Roman smirked playfully as he brought his glass to his lips. He wasn't chastising or scolding Mahin. Simply poking a little fun at the irony of the situation. It takes much more than that to offend someone like Rome.

"And what about you? Any boyfriends?... Or better yet, girlfriends? I imagine a book like yours might have scared off more than a fair share of men. Not that it'd be much of a loss. I'm sure men like him," Roman pointed his index finger of the hand that held his drink toward Adrien. "Would call your book heresy."




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liesl voigt
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"You're quite a sight yourself, Miss. Voigt." Ever the gentleman. Although Liesl knew his compliment was out of politeness. Sure he meant it, of course he did. Look at her? She was a crimson headed bombshell, and she knew it. Most men in town knew it. But even that wasn't enough to turn Ricardo's attention toward her and not others. The man was an enigma. No one knew much of anything about him besides the fact that he locked himself away in his mansion more often than not. A lonely man like that could use some company.

While Liesl ran through the prospects for the night, Ricardo seemed to humor her. His gaze was fixed on hers, intent and engaged, yet never looked towards any of the women she mentioned. Was it her and only her that caught his attention? That would be a change of pace, no doubt. Liesl had been trying to seduce him for sometime, the man was stunning and in need of a little sexual attention. But she wasn't dumb either. He had always seemed less than interested in her advances, so what changed?

As she stood there, adjusting his tie, Ricardo's hand found her side. His fingers wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer until Liesl's chest was against his. She gasped. Her breasts heaved with every breath, pressing against him. He leaned in toward her ear, sweeping away her hair. She swallowed. Cold chills ran down her spine from the touch of his finger tips. "I'm a bit of a sinner myself, Miss. Voigt." A small smirk crossed her lips. She didn't care who saw. They could watch in jealousy for all she cared. "Why have defiled goods when I could have something... untouched? Personally, I think that's much more fun. Don't you?"

Liesl's grin fell. Her head that had been tilting back snapped upright to meet his gaze. Ricardo moved her crimson lock back to where it was before he moved it, then used his other hand on her waist to move her aside. She stood there in a silent shock as she watched him cross the room, beelining straight for her sister. Her gaze didn't move to another, nor did she blink. If anything it turned into daggers as she watched him move to stand right beside Lorelei without a care in the world.

When she went to look away, she nearly missed John looking in her direction. How much did he see? Liesl wasn't usually the type to get embarrassed, but if he saw everything that transpired who else did? She felt cheap and second rate to her pristine sister. But she tried her best to hide what she was feeling. John flashed her wink which made her smile, if only slightly. She pushed down whatever other feelings were boiling inside her and playfully blew him a kiss, before making her way towards the bar.

"I'll have a shot." Her gaze skimmed the bottles. "Whatever's strongest."

"I apologize miss, but are not serving shots."

She sighed. "Then the strongest liquor in a glass with ice and nothing else." The bartender didn't second guess her and quickly got to work on the drink. It was a tequila of some kind, it didn't really matter. Once she was given the drink Liesl downed it in a single gulp and slammed the glass back on the bar. "One more." Her index finger tapped the brim of the glass before she glanced over her shoulder, glaring at her sister.




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grayson hughes
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"You look quite nice yourself, I like the suit." Grayson looked down at his suit, subconsciously adjusting his tie and pressing down his collar. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He opened his mouth to respond and thank her, but then another person joined the group. He didn't want to be awkward, but he already was. So rather than make it worse, he turned his attention back towards the hat on the table leaving his back toward the group of women.

"Grayson - like the suit."

His brows furrowed, a little confused as he looked down at his outfit. Grayson did a double take before looking back at Ricardo briefly. "Thanks." He tried to find something else to say but came up blank. What else could he say? You too? Of course Ricardo's suit was perfect. He was one of the richest people in Essex. The man probably bought a new suit for the event. Gray couldn't help but wonder if the compliment was genuine or a jest on his behalf. Ricardo didn't seem like the type to make him the butt of the joke, so he accepted the compliment and turned his attention back toward the hat.

While he wasn't necessarily part of the conversation, Grayson couldn't help but overhear what was said as he stood right beside them. He was easily able to make out John's voice as he joined the growing group. "Maybe this isn't interesting to everyone but I was wondering about your next novel. Is it going to be just as 'steamy' as the last and if so who is going to be the titular characters?" It sounded like he was talking to Paisley. Gray knew she wrote, but he hadn't asked her about her next book. Maybe it was because it wasn't his type of reading. Either way, he turned slightly to see what she might say.

John's gaze then moved to Liana and Grayson. "Maybe it's about a couple who can't be together because of extenuating circumstances . . ." Taken by surprise, Gray coughed. His hands fumbled with the hat, dropping it on the table before managing to anxiously shove it back on its stand. He missed whatever else John said as he tugged at his tie, loosening it slightly.

"Perhaps it's more of an adventurous story. Paisley loves adventures." It took a lot of self control for Grayson to keep himself from looking back towards the group. His hand nervously shook. He unbuttoned his sports coat trying to keep his fingers busy so no one noticed. "If you all will excuse me, I believe I’m in need of a new drink and I might check out the rest of the night's activities."

Out of the corner of his eyes he watched her leave the group and head in one direction. Grayson waited another beat or two before he left the table, heading in the opposite direction of Liana. He didn't dare put stock into John's words. Instead he headed outside for a bit of fresh air. The hall was getting far too hot and crowded for his liking.

Once he stepped out into the cool night's air, Grayson felt like he could breathe. He never liked being the center of attention, especially not when he felt like someone was airing secrets that even he hadn't come to terms with. He already felt bad enough for having feelings he couldn't explain for a woman who was engaged... But knowing other people saw it too made him nauseous. It wasn't his place. She wasn't his and he knew it. Gray tried his best to keep his feelings buried. He was stupid. He shouldn't spend so much time with her. It didn't help those feelings subside. Since they've started their morning coffees his feelings only seemed to grow.

Gray's hands rested on the railing that surrounded the raised entrance to city hall. His head fell slightly as he sighed. Why did she get nervous? Did she feel something for him too? No. No. He couldn't think like that. His hands pushed off the stone before he started pacing back and forth. Greg and him already were at odds since High School, that's all he needed was for rumors to get back to him that Gray wanted his fiancée. Shit. He rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh. God damn it, John.




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lorelei voigt
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"Do not listen to that wretched man, your dress is beautiful, but only someone like you could make it shine the way it does."

Lorelei smiled softly at Liana's words, but before she could respond Paisley also came in with her own comment. "I said Mr. Duval was 'positively odious' and he took it as a compliment. I would take anything he said with a grain of salt."

She laughed. Paisley's comment brought a genuine smile to her lips as she looked between the two girls. "I guess we should be thankful. If he was pretty, rich, and smart... I think we'd all be in danger." Adrien was a powerful enough man in Essex, heaven knows how much worse it would be if he actually had enough brains cells to rub together. And to be honest, he did... To some extent. No, he wasn't book smarts and the longest words he knew have three syllables but his street smarts could be scary. Lorelei knew how much his hands were in. He touched everything in their town and was managing to get away with it.

Whatever fun Lorelei was trying to have when it came to Paisley and John was quickly shot down. "I don't think I am his type. I happen to think Mr. Waldmann and I are good friends enough to acknowledge one another. No?"

Before she reply or pry further, Liana chimed in. "Lorelei, stop living through people and live for yourself a little." Paisley didn't say anything, but she pointed in silent agreement.

Lorelei sighed, rolling her eyes slightly. That was always what the conversation boiled down to at one point or another. They both knew it wasn't that simple not with family like hers or working for Adrien. Maybe someone else would tell them all to shove it and go about their lives by themselves. Maybe that's what she should do. But this was all that Lorelei knew. She was frightened of what her father, sister or even Adrien would do if one day she decided to stop and live her own life. While none of them have ever physically harmed her, it was something subconscious deep inside that kept her unmoving. Like she was a prisoner in her own life and there was nothing she could do about it.

The conversation died as more people quickly began to join their small group. Lorelei's gaze slowly drifted about the room. She idly looked at different gatherings of towns people but her eyes still found their way back to her sister. Now Liesl stood chest to chest with Ricardo. She watched as his head leaned in towards her sister's neck. But before anything else could happen she looked away and put on a smile, hoping no one saw what she did.

She watched as Grayson complimented Liana. Lorelei hadn't heard much about him beyond what Liana told her, mostly that the two of them have coffee together every morning in the diner. The Officer had always seemed like a kind and friendly man. So did Greg. She didn't quite know what was going on between the men and Liana. Her friend was never quite forthcoming. But something about Greg never quite sat right with her. She couldn't put her finger on it and she dare not say anything to her friend. In the end, whatever happened was Liana's choice. Lorelei just hoped she did what was right for her.

"Grayson - like the suit." She inhaled softly as she looked over her shoulder to see Ricardo. It seemed that recently, Lorelei had been running into him more and more around town. Or, at least, as much as she could for someone who rarely came out of his house. They never really spoke, just exchanged brief smiles or he'd hold the door for her. But on occasion, she'd notice his gaze lingering on her. He never tried to strike up a conversation and if she managed to catch him looking, he'd promptly leave and she wouldn't see him for several days.

But there he was. Ricardo joined their small group like it was no big deal. Like he did it all the time. Not a minute ago he looked two seconds from spiriting Liesl away into his limo for a good time and now he stood behind her. Lorelei was confused, but she tried her best not to show it. Still, there was a small knot that twisted in her gut. Jealousy. Her sister always made a game of going after any man that held her attention for more than a fleeting moment. Lorelei didn't even know how she felt about Ricardo... Just that he was handsome and polite... And he looked at her rather than Liesl. Or so she thought.

"You ladies are looking lovely tonight." Lorelei, just like the rest of the ladies, smiled and thanked him for the compliment. But she grew the faintest bit stiff as Ricardo made his way into the small circle standing so close that her shoulder brushed his arm. She tried not to look up at him, but every so often her gaze peeked up at him from the corner of her eyes. He confused her.

"Anything interesting?" Even though this question still seemed posed to the group, she couldn't help but feel like he was asking her.

Liana took the opportunity to speak up and put even more of the attention on Lorelei. "Lorelei was just looking at this swan’s quill. I’ve been trying to convince her she should get it, what do you think of it?"

Lorelei looked down at her hands, realizing the small quill was still cradled between her index fingers and thumbs. She gave Ricardo a slightly awkward smile as she felt a flush rush to her cheeks. "It's nothing. I just liked the feather," she said softly before she quickly set the quill back down on the table next to the ink well. "I'm not a writer anyway." Her gaze fell slightly as she brushed her hair behind her ears.

She hardly even noticed John as he joined the ever growing group. Everyone shifted making room for him as he promptly stood beside Paisley. "Maybe this isn't interesting to everyone but I was wondering about your next novel. Is it going to be just as 'steamy' as the last and if so who is going to be the titular characters?" His gaze then moved to Liana and Grayson, whose back was toward the group as he inspected an item on the table. "Maybe it's about a couple who can't be together because of extenuating circumstances . . ."

Grayson coughed and Liana quickly grew awkward and flushed. Even Lorelei felt uncomfortable at the comment. She tried to give her friend as sympathetic smile to reassure her, but it seemed that wasn't John's only suggestion. ". . . Or perhaps it's about a love rivalry between identical twins."

Her heart skipped a beat. She felt the blood rush from her head as she grew dizzy. Lorelei looked ghostly. She tried her best to remain calm and act unaffected, all the while her head was spinning. She put on a fake smile and even managed a convincing laugh. "No. Neither one of us know the first thing about love. You can't call it a rivalry if she always wins."

Before anyone could try to delve into that conversation further, Lorelei nodded her head with a smile. "If you'll excuse me." As she parted from the group her gaze found Ricardo's once more, but the second they locked she looked away.

Lorelei found her way to the nearest empty table. Her heart was pounding in her ears and she felt like the room was spinning. She nearly stumbled into the chair, sighing once her feet were off the ground. She couldn't figure out who handled John's exposure worse, Lorelei, Liana or Grayson. Considering she nearly passed out from embarrassment, money was on herself. Her elbows rested on the table while her hand held her forehead. Why did Ricardo have to come over there? Liesl was already putty in his hands. She would have slept with him in the middle of the dance floor for the whole town to see if that's what he wanted.

As she sat alone at the table, she dared not look up. Lorelei didn't want to see the faces of the people she left behind, judging her less that exquisite exit. Rather, she kept her gaze focused anywhere but them, instead content on watching someone who arrived late that nearly knocked over Mrs. Picket. She probably would have done the same if she wore heels that high, but luckily her butt was firmly planted in a seat so she wouldn't make the same mistake. Lorelei couldn't help but hope the auction would be coming to an end... soon.




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adrien duval
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Hugo smiled at Adrien's question, seeming relieved to be free of the woman's presence for the time being. "Elena. Just moved to town, she’s a teacher or something" He shrugged his shoulders. "Truth be told, she’s a little dull, but I get the sense that she’s eager to please."

Adrien chuckled as he sipped from his drink. "The quiet ones usually are. But they're always so damn clingy." He has had more than his fair of clingy run ins. The shy quiet girls were always the best when it came to sex, often virgins and willing to do whatever to make you happy. But they fall in love so quick that it's nearly impossible to get out unscathed. I mean, he isn't scared to break some hearts in the conquest of good sex. But really, it was just too much effort and a waste of time. Whoever told women that love was the end all be all obviously never had a mind blowing blow job.

"And what about you? You and Liesl looked pretty cozy."

He smirked, pausing as he brought his glass to his lips. "Well... We all know how Liesl is." Hell, all of Essex knew at this point. The list of men she hasn't slept with was shorter than the ones she has at that point. Surprisingly, Adrien hadn't jumped onto that bandwagon just yet. Perhaps part of him was hoping to crack Lorelei first. That would be a trophy that no one has touched. But the woman has proven to be quite the prude. He has needs. And from what he's heard from Hugo, Liesl is more than capable to fill them... In every position.

Adrien's gaze searched the room until it found the familiar mane of red hair. But to his horror, she was sidled up to none other than Ricardo Trujillo. He watched, with furrowed brows and a clenched jaw. Liesl wasn't his. Hell, she was the resident whore who bounced around or got passed around as she saw fit. But he was like a child with a toy he stopped playing with. Once he saw someone else playing with it, he wanted it back. That's how it went with Ricardo. Anything he had, Adrien wanted it and would do anything to take it from him. But it was worse seeing someone he claimed first slither her way into his enemies arms.

Then, like pouring salt in a wound, when Trujillo was done with one twin he went to the next. The man had no shame flitting from one woman to another. Adrien was not a protective type. He wouldn't give a rat ass who Lorelei spread her legs for. It was the fact that she wouldn't give him a second glance, yet Ricardo could stand right beside her and make a move on her? Lorelei wasn't his woman, but she was his property. Donovan Voigt gave her to him. Trujillo had the gall to make a move on something that wasn't his.

"Well isn’t that interesting."

Adrien's knuckles went white as his grip on his glass tightened. He might have crushed it in his grasp if Liesl hadn't walked past them. Before she was out of reach, he reached out with his free hand and grabbed a hold of her arm. "What the fuck do you think you were doing with him?" He hissed while nodding his head toward Ricardo.

Liesl turned to face him, yanking her arm free from his hold. "Whatever the hell I want!" While he towered over her, Liesl didn't back down. She wasn't scared of Adrien like the rest of Essex was. She sought him out for his power and prowess. He could threaten her all he wanted, hell she kinda liked it, but she was not some sheep who'd bend to his will.

"I don't take Trujillo's seconds." The last thing he wanted was to share the same woman that Ricardo had.

"No? But you'll take everyone else's seconds?" Liesl challenged him. She had humility when it came to her own reputation. She wasn't insulted when someone called her a slut. She was one and she knew it. So, rather than letting Adrien take it and try to throw it in her face, she took her own reputation and threw it in his. "He doesn't want me. He wants my untouched sister. So go fight over her if you're going to be a bitch about it."

Liesl reached up and took Adrien's whiskey. She didn't need his permission and she didn't care if she pissed him off. Part of her knew that men like Adrien loved when women didn't melt into puddles for them. It was the whole thrill of the chase and Liesl was no damsel in need of saving. She downed what remained of his drink then shoved the glass back in his hand. "Hugo and I are going to go dance," she said while taking Hugo's hand in hers. "While you get over yourself."

She started retreating back towards the dance floor with Hugo in tow, her gaze locked with Adrien. Liesl blew him a kiss before pivoting in a bit of a flourish. She took his hand and guided it towards her waist as they moved out onto the floor. "Can I just say," Liesl began as she pulled Hugo close, pressing their bodies together as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Sex shouldn't be complicated by feuds."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roman Scarrott Character Portrait: John Waldmann Character Portrait: Ricardo Trujillo Character Portrait: Mahin Hassud
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R I C A R D O x T R U J I L L O
t h e x b e a s t
#4d2915 || Outfit || City Hall

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Ricardo watched as Lorelei's pale cheeks flared up when she realized that she was still playing around with the quill pen. "It's nothing. I just liked the feather. I'm not a writer anyway." She set the object down and looked no further at it.

Just as the redness of her face began to dissipate, John just had to do what he did best - say all the wrong things at the worst possible times. ". . . Or perhaps it's about a love rivalry between identical twins."
Even if there was truly no love rivalry between the twins, it didn't stop an already pallid Lorelei from turning a shade of white that resembled closest to printer paper. The guy already chased away one girl, why not finish the job with the rest? To be fair, maybe John was just as clueless as Ricardo was, only he said what he was thinking. Even if he shouldn't have... ever.

"No. Neither one of us know the first thing about love. You can't call it a rivalry if she always wins," Lorelei managed to laugh, even though it looked awkward in a way that maybe only he could notice. He wanted to speak, but like John - maybe he wasn't going to say the right thing even if he meant well. If John meant well. He was probably teasing everyone. "If you'll excuse me."

Talk to the woman, Mary said to him. She'll like that, she said. How hard could it be? She asked. Yet, right when he thought he worked up enough courage to talk to her, finally, she just... slips away. It wasn't entirely John's fault. Lorelei was... mousy, to say the least. Easily embarrassed. It didn't help that she had to deal with the likes of her sister or Adrien.

He placed a hand on his chest and bowed very lightly toward the remainder of the small group, "Pardon me." He moved past Paisley and John to go after Lorelei. It seemed like the right thing to do. Just shy of putting his foot down to completely move past the auction table, he made sure the blonde wasn't watching as he placed his number and a hearty bid on the quill pen. Maybe she wasn't much of a writer, but it seemed like something she liked. And well, Mahin did point that out to him earlier. He has learned to trust a woman's instincts.

Like a really bad romance movie, as soon as his figure loomed over her table, the pleasant music warped into something more romantic and slow-paced. It almost felt like... fate... maybe. Was it a good icebreaker? He already tried to talk to her, gave her a compliment (even if he said all of the ladies looked nice), and stood by her. It didn't even occur to him that she might have noticed his actions with Liesl, but it also wouldn't have mattered. To say that one twin was attractive and the other not seemed rather... ridiculous.

He held a hand out toward her, palm out so that she could take it, "Very few women could rival you, much less your sister." There, he said it. He wasn't going to win any Oscars anytime soon, but there it was - a very genuine compliment. Even though his voice was a deep rumble and hard to soften, and perhaps he did not smile as others normally would, nothing indicated that he was playing games with her. "Surely you've noticed that."

He kept his hand out for her, the music bringing other couples to the dance floor, "If you don't notice, maybe you'll allow me the opportunity to show you."





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M A H I N x H A S S U D
p r i n c e s s x j a s m i n e
#e2b985 || Outfit || City Hall

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"You caught me. It is I, MahinMakesMeMoist69," he joked, and that was very obvious. She sat back in her seat, crossed her arms over her chest, and gave him a single-squinty-eyed and accusatory look, "I knew it. I've always had a good eye for perverts," she jested in return.

"Roman Scarrott. But most people call me the Gypsy or that giant hairy guy." She turned around while walking to look him up and down, "Makes perfect sense, to be honest." Of course, it was all in good fun. He was pleasant to be around and the light air worked well.

"That I don't know of. I'm not from here. I'm sort of... A nomad? I just kind of float from place to place. Live out of my van with my dog, Nan. I think I found your book in a small bookshop somewhere in Seattle."

She tilted her head and him and "hmmed" at the thought of her book ending up in some small bookshop. It wasn't far-fetched, really. While they ate, she did take one of his fries. It didn't look like his body would really miss it, if she were being honest. A man with muscles like that ate more than enough for a small country.

"Is it that hard to believe a man could be a feminist?" Yes, she did find that hard to believe. Then again, she did come from a country where the notion of a man agreeing with women was rare and punishable. The way he threw the question at her made it seem like she might have offended him, so she waved a hand in front of her face and smiled, "I meant no offense by that, Roman. I simply forget that American men are different sometimes." She took a quick look around at her surroundings. It was hard to believe that she was in the country sometimes. Hard to believe that she had been lucky enough to escape. One of the few women.

"I prefer to think of myself as more of an 'equalist'. Some feminists out there are a little too radical for my taste. But I think everyone deserves to be treated based on their merits as a human being, not by what's between their legs, who they fuck, or what they look like." She liked that. Equalist. Mahin was very much the same. There were some traditional values that had been instilled in her since birth, but coming from the place she did - it might not be so surprising. That's probably why there was a lot of irony still in this whole conversation. Whilst she treated everyone the same, she hadn't delved completely into the intersectionality of feminism or even into other genders and sexualities. Sometimes it didn't occur to her, as her priorities right now were vastly fighting for the most simple of human rights for women in her home country. She was still used to seeing men a certain way, which leads to conversations such as these where she needs to be reminded. Roman just did so gently and kindly.

"And no. I don't have a girlfriend... Or a boyfriend. Life on the road doesn't really give me much of a chance to set down roots. But it does give me time to read." She shrugged at that, "A book is probably much safer than most human beings."

Roman made it a point to gesture toward Adrien, "And what about you? Any boyfriends?... Or better yet, girlfriends? I imagine a book like yours might have scared off more than a fair share of men. Not that it'd be much of a loss. I'm sure men like him would call your book heresy."

She shook her head, finishing off the last bit of her food. "It isn't even safe for me to just be on my own, let alone with someone else. A partner would be nice - in whatever form that would come - but I couldn't put someone through that. I'm a political refugee. Even in the freest country on the planet, I am still getting death threats."

She leaned off the side to peer past one of his broad shoulders and look at the dancers. "Maybe it's a good time to mingle and see if anyone tickles your fancy while you're around these parts."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roman Scarrott Character Portrait: Liesl Voigt Character Portrait: Adrien Duval Character Portrait: Ricardo Trujillo Character Portrait: Lorelei Voigt Character Portrait: Mahin Hassud
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#, as written by mjolnir
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roman scarrott
the geniex|xoutfitx|x#5890c9

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"A book is probably much safer than most human beings." That was something Roman couldn't argue. He didn't have much luck in the realm of interpersonal relationships. He made some friends on occasional, but they were usually fair weather and disappeared as quickly as they arrived. Life has turned him into a bit of a cynic when it comes to his fellow human beings. More often than not he finds others only want to satiate their own selfish whims, whatever those are. Selfless people are few and far between. Maybe that's why he keeps to himself and his dog. Animals are better than people anyway.

"It isn't even safe for me to just be on my own, let alone with someone else. A partner would be nice - in whatever form that would come - but I couldn't put someone through that. I'm a political refugee. Even in the freest country on the planet, I am still getting death threats."

Roman's face sunk as his brows furrowed. No one should have to live like that. "That's... rough. I'm sorry you have to live like that." He scratched his chin under his beard as he thought. "If it helps, you're welcome to tell people I'm your big scary boyfriend. Wouldn't be my first fight," he mused with a chuckle. It wasn't often that people tried to ruffle his feathers. The man was a walking wall. And even though his personality was more in line with a goofy teddy bear, his resting bitch face said otherwise. "Free of charge," he added with a playful wink.

"Maybe it's a good time to mingle and see if anyone tickles your fancy while you're around these parts." Roman laughed. He wasn't much of the short fling or one night stand type, old soul and all that. But perhaps Mahin had enough of his shitty excuse for conversation. Most of his socializing was with an animal that didn't respond much, so he'd understand if it was lacking a bit.

"Maybe you should too. Refugee or not, no one deserves to be alone." As he started to stand up, he realized how easily his comment could be turned back against him. He held up his index finger to stop her before she said anything. "Ah. Ah. I have a dog, I am not alone." Roman smiled. He leaned down to pick up his empty glass. Perhaps he could use a refill and give the woman a chance to mingle with someone else. "You have a good evening, Mahin. Try to have some fun." He smiled again. "If I don't see you out there dancing, don't think I won't come make you." He flashed her a playful wink before he wondered off.

Roman had one of those effortless demeanors that could often come off charming and flirty, even when he didn't mean to. To be honest, he couldn't recall if he ever flirted... on purpose. He just had a nice smile and gave compliments where they were due. Apparently, as he realized in his adult life, that was uncommon for men. There had been more than one instance where he told a woman she looked nice and he got a punch in the jaw from some man near by, or he liked a guy's outfit and the dude immediately thought he was hitting on him. It was a sad world when a man couldn't be nice for the sake of being nice.

He didn't know which way his personality rubbed Mahin, but he could take a hint. Roman didn't know most of the faces, so rather than awkwardly worm his way into a conversation, he figured he could get another and figure it out later. As he made his way to the bar, his gaze drifted to one or two attractive people he passed by. When he looked back in front of himself it was too late and he bumped right into Ben, who also seemed preoccupied with wondering around.

A large hand rested on Ben's shoulder to steady him. Roman was kind of a walking wall and the last thing he wanted to do was knock him over like a bulldozer. "Ben," he said with a grin as he patted the man's shoulder. He wouldn't say it, but he was thankful that the person he did run into was one of the few faces he did know. "Sorry about that, man. I should be more careful. If I run you over, where the hell would I eat? He jested with a hearty laugh.

It wasn't a secret that Ben was known for having a less than sunny disposition. But even in his snarky comments or whatever else, it never really deterred Roman. Grumpy people needed friends too. And honestly, the man was never one to try to make small talk too often, which was nice. There was only so much small talk one person could handle and considering Roman had no friends and just went from place to place, that was the conversation he got most often. "Purple is definitely your color," he commented as he noticed Ben's suit and plum neck tie.

The bar did indeed look a bit crowded. While Roman wasn't bothered wiggling his way past people to get a drink, it did look like that wasn't Ben's scene. He tapped his index finger on the empty glass in his hand. "I was going to grab a refill, can I get you something?"




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lorelei voigt
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Lorelei was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't even notice Ricardo place a bid on the quill, nor him approach her table. Perhaps it wasn't so much being lost in her thoughts, rather than intentionally not looking up. Embarrassment had that effect on people... Or it did on her, at least. His extended hand broke her line of sight that was fixated on the surface of the table. "Very few women could rival you, much less your sister."

The comment and the hand took her by surprise. "What?" She said, almost involuntary, as she looked up to find the hand belonged to Ricardo. While the two encountered each other quite frequently around town, this had to be the most they had ever spoken to each other. It never occurred to Lorelei that their run-ins were anything other than a happy coincidence. Men never looked her way, at least not like that.

His words caught her off guard and left her mind racing, rather than finding the will to move or speak. "Surely you've noticed that." Had she noticed that? No. She has lived in Liesl's shadow for as long as she could remember. Everyone in the town wanted her, while the only man that spoke to her was Adrien... And that's because she fetched his dry cleaning and morning coffee. Her gaze studied Ricardo, confused by the sudden breaking of the prolonged silence they shared. What had changed?

While the man always came off a bit stoic and distant, Lorelei didn't doubt his honesty. The man even seemed to smile or something of that nature. Perhaps it wasn't a smile in comparison to others, but it was more than his usually blank emotionless expression. Even in the awkward silence of Lorelei just... staring at him and searching for a reaction, he didn't back down. Ricardo kept his hand out and the not-so-smile on his face. "If you don't notice, maybe you'll allow me the opportunity to show you."

Whatever color had left Lorelei's face all came rushing back in that moment. Why wasn't she talking... Or doing anything? Before she could overthink herself into a deeper hole, her arm moved, almost on its own, until her hand rested in his. She noticed the softness of his skin, while his fingers still felt firm and strong. It contrasted her own delicate but callused hand. The difference was striking. It was like two sides of a coin. So many things in her head told her to refuse the offer, but it was too late. Lorelei had already somehow managed to move to her feet and have her hand in his before any sort of sense made its way to her head.

Had she ever danced with a man before? Lorelei couldn't recall. Which meant it was a no. It was all so foreign to her... Being at a charity auction in a dress more expensive than anything she owned. And out of everyone there, the person who asked her to dance was the single most hated man by her employer. It was too late to turn back. She could feel Adrien's eyes drilling into the back of her head as Ricardo lead her to the dance floor. She dared not look back or anywhere else besides her feet.

Eventually they came to a stop and Ricardo's hand found her waist. Lorelei swallowed. The fingers of his other hand kept hold of hers as he guided her closer. She inhaled softly as their chests brushed. Only then did she look up to meet his gaze as she hesitantly moved her other hand to rest on his shoulder. Was this right? Is this how people danced? She couldn't recall. Ricardo said nothing, so she could only assume she was doing it right. She just prayed to herself that she didn't manage to step on his foot or get tripped up in her dress.

Lorelei's mind raced, but eventually it came back to a scene she saw earlier. Before she could stop herself, the words already found their way to her mouth and blurted out. "Why aren't you dancing with Liesl?" She didn't accuse him or point fingers, but her question was enough of an indicator that he'd know she saw what happened.

Ricardo wasn't hers. They had barely spoken before that evening. Lorelei didn't know what she thought about the man besides the fact that he was handsome and polite. He always held the door for her and seemed to notice her before anyone else. But she also saw him with Liesl. They were identical, so it wouldn't be hard to imagine he found them both attractive. The red head was easy and more desirable... by the town's account. It just didn't add up and left Lorelei confused.




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liesl voigt
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"Absolutely not," Hugo responded with a gentle whisper in her ear. Liesl smirked. She knew he'd see it her way. He always did. "That’s what love is for, I think, and last I read everyone dies in those stories." He pulled his head away from her ear, even shaking it in disapproval. "It’s childish. But I suppose it’s something we all have to live with, isn’t it?"

He could have meant the feud... or love. Both fit the bill. Liesl never quite understood the feud. Who started what? When? It didn't matter because she didn't care. The only part of it that amused her was ruffling Adrien's feathers whenever Ricardo came up. She was no one's property, especially no man's. The girl didn't pick sides, she picked fun. And so far, she hadn't made it into either one of Essex's local millionaire's beds. Before that night she had been curious who she could seduce first, but as one made it oh so clear... She wasn't his type. She was everyone's type.

"Love is dull," she commented with an eye roll, quick to nip her pessimistic thoughts in the bud. "Humans weren't meant to mate for life." After her comment, Liesl pulled away just enough so that Hugo got the hint to twirl her. She did always like getting people's attention. Just because it was a slow song didn't mean she couldn't put her own flare on it and steal a couple lingering looks from those who lingered around the dance floor.

"If you get tired of Adrien and his bullshit," Hugo began as she returned to his arms, chest to chest. "The rest of my evening is still free."

Liesl's lips pursed into a coy smirk as her hand ran up his bicep, along his shoulder and cupped the back of his neck. "Mr. Lund, I am a lady," she pretended to act offended. How dare he think of me in such a manner. "You'd love that wouldn't you?" she asked as her fingers began to twirl his hair at the base of his skull. "A little dig in Adrien Duval's ego... Taking home his trophy?" She leaned in close to him as she spoke, she whispered like a teasing purr.

There was a moment or two of silence as they twirled about the room. While Liesl's gaze was mostly on Hugo, she did look around from time to time to see who was watching and who was dancing with who. It didn't fall on blind eyes that Ricardo had found his way to his precious virgin and managed to get a dance out of her. A shallow person might be offended at seeing that, but she wasn't... Was she? With every spin she found herself looking back at the pair, wishing to be a fly on the wall and hear their conversation. Or better yet, be the one who managed to snag Ricardo for a dance first.

"Is he watching?" Liesl was caught red handed. She looked back up at Hugo with a confused expression, even if they both knew it was fake. "That’s what you want, right?"

That's when she realized he was talking about Adrien, or at least she thought he was. Whomever he spoke of, that's what Liesl went with. "I hadn't noticed," she responded. It was the truth, whether or not Hugo believed it. She hadn't even spared a glance in Adrien's direction since they started dancing. "Believe it or not," she started, knowing full well he probably wouldn't believe her. "I actually enjoy your company. You're one of the few people in his horrid town that doesn't make me want to smash my head into a brick wall."

Their next turn about the room Liesl actually looked for Adrien. It took a couple spins before she saw him, but surprise surprise... or perhaps to no surprise at all, his gaze wasn't on herself and Hugo, but fixated on Ricardo and Lorelei. She sighed, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "Actually, it seems he's more worried about Trujillo." Every couple of turns Liesl would let her gaze drift over toward Adrien or Ricardo before finding its way back to her dance partner. "How long before he makes a move?" The way Adrien was fuming, she gave it an hour tops before he did something to ruin the night. There was a reason why no one ever had the two of them in the same room for long.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Elena Lux Character Portrait: Roman Scarrott Character Portrait: John Waldmann Character Portrait: Paisley Lawrence Character Portrait: Grayson Hughes Character Portrait: Liesl Voigt
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0.25 INK

#, as written by mombie
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_______________________

~ Toast to Hope ~
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There was much to do still and not a lot of time left to do them. This night could not last forever, as pained as Mrs. Picket felt for all involved. As she walked through the gala she noted the relationships that have formed, and part of her knew that happiness would be broken as the curse slowly lifted. But this was for the best, she told herself over and over again. They did not belong in this earthly realm, for every precious moment spent living their best lives in Essex, the Enchanted Realm withered away thanks to the vile curse of the Evil Queen. It wouldn't be long until it was gone for good. The people needed their beacons of hope, but they are all here in Essex.

Several fancy individuals went around the auction tables, presumably to look at the bids placed. They took about 30 minutes, or so, to close the auction and place the winning number on each item. It was a silent auction, after all.

After a while, the music died down and Mrs. Picket took the stage front and center. Waiters and waitresses carried trays of champaign, offering one thin fluke to each person. She was given a mic, tapped it a couple of times, did the comical and fun one, two, three . . . test, test. She laughed a little to lighten the mood because there was nothing joyous about the occasion. Those that have lived miserable lives in the Enchanted Realm had grown content here, but Mrs. Picket's magic would soon shred their reality.

"What a wonderful night. It's been lovely to see all these faces together in one spot," she smiled as best she could. Of course, it was easy for her - she had such a bright outward appearance and personality that it was hard to see her as anything but jovial. She's just a happy old lady! "The silent auction has ended. You will find the winning bids place on the items," she gestured toward the various auction tables. There were, indeed, large white cards placed near each item with the number of its owner. It didn't matter if someone outbid them or if someone bid on their behalf; the digits would match whomever the item belonged to.

"I know, I know," she paced to and fro, adding a little comedy to her routine, "Such an eclectic inventory, right? And that's putting it nicely." She paused for the obligatory laughs. No one would leave an old lady hanging, even if her humor was dry, right?

She raised her glass in the air toward those gathered. They were waiting for her to get to the point, and she gets that. It's a long night and there are far too many personalities here for everything to remain pleasant. "The proceeds from the auction will go toward those suffering without hope." She paused, took a look around the room, and smiled lightly. Come tomorrow, this throng of good Essex people will be shattered. "Dance, be merry, and enjoy each other. Tomorrow will mark a new beginning in Essex. But I hope you will always remember that there is always hope. Hope in the world, in each other, and even in that which is hopeless - be it a person or situation. Believe in change. Believe in... goodness."

She wanted to sigh because certain individuals here were not going to change for anything. But she proceeded to be content in her vague ramblings. Maybe many would just dismiss her as an old senile lady, for she is quite geriatric. "So let's toast to that - hope, for it can be found in even the darkest places. Even in... all of this," she gestured around to the auction tables once more with a free hand.

After finishing off her drink, she addressed them for the last time. "Well, it's been lovely, dearies. My job here is done, and I must go." She left the stage, allowed others to say their good-byes to her and she to them. The Enchanted Realm had so few heroes within it to help stave off the Evil Queen's magic, and the Fairy Godmother was one of them. Even just spending a few hours here could have caused harm.

With that, Mrs. Picket left the building and went back from whence she came. She took one last look at Essex and the dimly lit streets before she "poofed" away as though she was never here. However, unlike she had intended in the beginning, she'd leave the residents a memory of her as to take a few words to heart later.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Enchanted Realm whole cities, kingdoms, and minor-realms were at war with one another. Many of them were headed by the co-conspirators of Jafar or the Evil Queen, both with the same goal in mind. The Realm was decaying at a rapid rate, and no one knew who to blame for the mess. The skies everywhere were a dour shade of grey, and the flora and fauna were diseased and deathly. Everyone was frightened because they were without proper leadership. The loss of certain characters meant the end of hope.

The Fairy Godmother returned to a small clearing in the Enchanted Forest that was kept alive by the magic of herself and a few others. She stepped into a small hut and nodded slowly, "They will come. Of that, I have no doubt."

The Blue Fairy, the six Fairies that blessed Aurora, and even the one that was said to have cursed Beast, were all having dinner at a large round table. It wasn't anything special; just stew. "We'll see," one of the six Fairies scoffed. "We should still look for a way to break this curse. Just in case. Who'd want to return to this?"

The Blue Fairy laughed solemnly, "Ah, yes - that will be quite the dilemma. Won't it?"

The Fairy Godmother peered out of a window. The skies were clear here, but she could see the tendrils of dark light stretching slowly toward them. "Hope, ladies. Hope. It's the only thing we have left."

They would all agree to disagree. Some of them felt that these were the end of days, and others were more optimistic. However, they were all realistic. Realistically, life was hell in the Enchanted Realm - even for those that supposedly had their "Happy Endings" - whatever that meant. Life here was no storybook.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ricardo Trujillo Character Portrait: Lorelei Voigt Character Portrait: Mahin Hassud Character Portrait: Dumaine LeRoux
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#, as written by mombie
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R I C A R D O x T R U J I L L O
t h e x b e a s t
#4d2915 || Outfit || Trujillo Estate

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The town of Essex would begin to disappear after a few moments. Traveling to the Trujillo Estate was like being in a totally different place. The ambiance was darker; the air cooler and much more humid. It was a place, unlike Adrien's, where one most certainly felt stranded and alone. Luckily, there were signs of life like the sprawling bright flora meticulously nurtured by Mrs. Potterson. Not that it was completely visible in the shadows of the night, as the estate offered little in the way of illumination. Ricardo liked it that way.

They passed through the tall gates at the foothill, then drove up the long and meandering pathway for about two or three minutes. They were surrounded by forest, towering fences with brambles that sprouted wine-colored roses, and the faint glimmer of the moon as the sole source of light. It was q quiet place; maybe even a scary one, given the disposition and rumors of its master.

The car stopped and Jacque stepped out to help Miss. Voigt from the car. Ricardo, of course, let himself out first. While a patient man, he still felt the heat that Adrien incited earlier simmering in his blood. He waited for a couple of moments after Lorelei was helped out of the car and turned toward her, "Miss. Potterson will show you to your room. Everything but the West Wing is open to you." His voice had a strict command tone to it, but he found it especially hard to be gentle for some reason. He felt pretty tense himself. Wound up. It was harder than usual to settle, and that was likely due to all the things that Adrien said and the fact that it had a lot to do with Lorelei. "Sleep well, Miss. Voigt," he dismissed himself in a formal fashion and disappeared swiftly into the Estate.

Jacque guided Mrs. Voigt into the Estate, helping her settle into the foyer where Miss. Potterson was oh-so eager to meet the woman! The ivory-haired lady practically bounced toward Lorelei, cupping one of her hands in both of her own, "Good evening, Miss. Voigt. We've been waiting for you for such a long time." She chuckled, lifting a hand up to her lips as though she released a secret by accident, "We don't get many guests."

Once she released Lorelei, she beckoned her to follow for a brief tour of the house. They'd begin at ground level - naturally. "Nevermind the eerie ambiance. It's much brighter when the curtains are drawn," she assured her guest, realizing that what may be suitable for Trujillo may be a bit daunting to someone like Lorelei. "You'll not have much business in the kitchen, but the dining room is here. We have many servants that are dying to cook a proper meal." She chuckled again as if she had made a joke, but it was really just a sad truth.

They floated in and out of doors to rooms like the tea room, Ricardo's study, and what was probably one of the best parts of the estate - the library that Ricardo spent a lot of time in. Most of the other rooms, especially on the second floor, were scantily furnished. They didn't turn down the West Wing, as it was forbidden to guests and servants alike.

"Oh dear," Miss. Potterson exclaimed as they passed by a looming grandfather clock. It was only a few second-hand ticks away from the booming stroke of midnight. "Time truly does fly!" She ushered the girl toward a set of deep mahogany double doors, pushing her slightly at the small of her back to go inside. "Just put your clothing in the bathroom basket, and I will have them cleaned for you. We tried out best to provide you with undergarments and clothing, but it was such short notice and we don't know much about you at all. We will serve your breakfast downstairs in the morning. Good night, Miss. Voigt."

As Lorelei stepped into the guest room that had been made up for her, she'd find it as dour as the rest of the estate. It did appear, however, that there was at least some effort made to give it a more modern and feminine appeal. There was a splash of light here and there, fresh flowers in vases, a gentle lavender and sandalwood scent, and fresh velvet bedding in deep violet. It may not be the most inviting guest room she has ever been invited to, but they tried. It also had a bathroom attached to it, which was fully stocked with all the amenities a woman might need; sans the makeup. Ricardo and crew weren't in the know-all about that.

Something else awaited her on the bed, covered in a small black box and tied simply in red ribbon. When she lifted the cover, she'd find her feather quill. It seemed to have been put back together somehow, and likely while she was on the long state tour with Miss. Potterson. Next to that laid a trio of casual dresses and a nightgown. No one could be certain of her size, so she'd have to try her luck! At least she would be clean.

As Lorelei settled in, Ricardo had fled to the West Wing. If his estate was considered dark and dingy, then this part of it was even more so. Even the hallway that led to it was uninviting and showed no hints of a light source behind barely lit candle sconces that lined the walls. His first stop was his private study. It was a place that mostly kept family heirlooms and other things he coveted close to the heart. He'd set the encased rose down on a tall side table near a window. The second that he left the room, the grandfather clock that Miss. Voigt and Miss. Potterson would pass only seconds before, tolled its midnight chime. As the door shut and the clock boomed, the first rose petal floated to the floor of the glass dome.

He entered his room, bedroom and moved to his bathroom. He'd wash up, tug on a pair of boxers, and eventually crawl into bed.




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p r i n c e s s x j a s m i n e
#e2b985 || Outfit || Town Hall

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D U M A I N E x L E R O U X
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#4B0082 || Outfit || City Hall

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Mahin had watched as Roman moved onto other people. Typically, she might be more interested in being social. There was a different feeling tonight, especially as she surveyed the interaction of others. Unlike many others, she hadn't gotten to the dance floor because it just wasn't the night for it. She did listen to the speech, though, and gave her own toast.

It was a rather... awkward speech, and she didn't know what it meant. New beginnings? The end? Maybe there was something going on in town tomorrow that a mere guest didn't know. Then again, it's not like this town had a website. Trust her - she did look.

Just as she thought about leaving, someone approached her. His accent was thick, attire a bold violet, and he seemed smooth as butter. The way he entered the conversation, with a charming dimpled smile and a sharp crease at the corners of his eyes, was enough to earn immediate ease and trust, "Headin' out, cher?" Dumained inquired, leaning against the table with two folded arms and a sharp piercing gaze.

"Actually," she began as she raised her right wrist to snatch a glance at the time, "It's about that time. Care to walk me to the hotel?"

His signature smirk found his lips, "Of course, cher. It's almost midnight, and a lady shouldn't be walkin' alone." He extended a hand toward her, and Mahin gently grasped it long enough to help herself out of the chair and onto her feet.

She grabbed her clutch, "Oh, before we go - I did bid on something."

Dumaine snapped his fingers, "Ah, distracted by a beautiful face. I did as well."

Mahin was first, leading the pair toward the auction table where her princess jewelry set rested. Having had forgotten her bidding number after so long, she had to get the crumpled piece of paper out of her clutch and give it a quick looksie. She was a little bit surprised that she saw it also on the winning bid. It appeared as though a few others tried to have a go at it, but it was hers. The set was cradled by a velvet black box, and she needed only to place the cover and scoop it up. "This was your item? It looks like it was made for you."

Mahin chuckled a little, blushing slightly at the same time, "It felt like me, if I am to be honest. What piqued your interest?"

They didn't have far to walk to find the table with his cane, "I was feelin' a little elegant tonight." Since he was excellent with numbers, he knew that his own was the winning bid. It was also boxed up for him, but he chose to take it out and try it on for size. He tapped the can on the floor, gave off a little twirl and some fancy footwork, "Suits me, no?"

She nodded, laughing lightly as she found his whole victory routine quite comical and charming, "No one else here could pull that off."

Mahin had her winning in a box pinned between her elbow and side, and Dumaine - feeling extra fancy tonight - waltzed out of the town hall in style. All he really needed was a tophat.

It was during that exit when a hasty Lorelei nearly gabbed Dumaine, but didn't offer him much of a chance to respond when she, instead, went for Grayson. Mahin's brows furrowed, and she looked up at her traveling companion. Both the officer and the blonde were back outside in no time, but so was everyone else. In a few short minutes, the throng of witnesses would grow to include Mahin and Dumaine.

Dumaine knew better than to stick around for this hot mess. He turned toward Mahin and began to usher her the other way, "No need tah ruin your night, cher." The truth was that Dumaine didn't want to be a witness to this. He didn't want to earn anyone's ire; neither Ricardo's nor Adrien's. Mahin was just a visitor, so she also didn't need to be an unfortunate bystander.

Mahin allowed Dumaine to lead her away, and the pair walked down the dimly lit street toward the hotel she was staying in. It wasn't much of a hotel, really. It was more like a room above a shop that she was temporarily staying in for a small fee.

They left each other there. Mahin settled into her room after they said their goodbyes, showered, and did all the other necessary things before going to sleep.

Dumaine, on the other hand, was not the luckiest man in Essex. Somewhere in town, clocks were ringing their midnight bells. A couple of hours after midnight, and he was fast asleep in his bed, someone - rather.... someones - were creeping into his apartment. They were just dark contours on his walls at first; jagged, monstrous entities with eyes and long tendrils for limbs. They sunk into the floor and gathered under his bed. His creme-colored sheets were immediately painted in a sea of black and these inky limbs reached for him. They wrapped around his body, and before he could wake up fully, dragged him down to someplace. He would never be seen again.

The Shadowman had a price to pay in the Enchanted Realm, and the souls had come to collect. When his bedroom opened, Baja Muhadhar; the mayor, also the notorious villain known as Jafar, stood in the doorway with Dr. Facilier's amulet in hand. After a few moments, he turned to leave so that he could take care of this turn of events.

It was time for a gathering of villains.