Re: The Vivacious Deadlock: S3G6: Round Three: The Sable Masque
05-11-2012, 10:05 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.
As soon as she found her footing Phere spun around, almost tripping over her high heels as she did so. She scrambled for the door but before she could reach it it clicked shut and that seemed to be the end of the matter. No matter how hard she pulled upon it, it would not budge, not an inch. When this stratagem failed she tried knocking but received no answer; perhaps the music that was playing inside was too loud, or more likely they simply did not want to answer her. It took her an angry minute or so to concede that she was not getting back in through this door, after which she finally noticed the incongruity of the fact that she was unexpectedly wearing high heels.
Before she’d been removed from the party she had been too busy to notice her new outfit, but by looking at herself through the eye of her hollow she was able to see that she was wearing a backless purple dress almost identical to the one she had been wearing when she had been first tossed into this battle. This one however was more glamorous; it sparkled and shimmered in a way her old dress never had, in a way that was almost difficult to look away from. It was very reminiscent of the outfits the guests inside were wearing. She also noticed that she was wearing matching shoulder length gloves and though her high heels were not visible beneath the hemline of her dress they were very pointy and elegant and significantly less comfortable than the boots she had been wearing previously. Her long black hair had been tied back into a loose chignon; the only thing preventing her from looking exactly like one of the party guests was the lack of a mask, which she dimly recollected throwing to the ground as her Hollow stung. Phere scowled as she regarded herself; she hated her new outfit instantly. It was probably not the outfit that was the cause of this so much as that circumstances had already put her in a foul mood; it was probably the fact that someone had dressed her up as though she were their doll.
But as much as she resented whoever had done this to her, the fact that she was dressed for the occasion was an undeniably good thing. When she got back inside she’d blend right in. She wondered if the same was true of her competitors. She felt a little disconnected from the battle after spending a round trying to outbluff their host and she was sort of concerned about what had happened in the meantime; whether they had been forming alliances in her absence and had found a new leader to step into her void, or whether they had just devolved into mindless chaotic fighting. After a moment of thought she had an idea. Phere activated the radio implant she had had installed in the first round and tried the frequencies of the radios that she’d given to her allies, in the hope that one of them would be able to let her back in. It was disappointing, but not surprising that there was no answer.
It was chilly out here. Phere wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to preserve some warmth and she looked around. Beneath her feet and stretching out in every direction were jet black sands. The palatial grounds were enormous; it was only just about possible to see the wall that marked their edge from where she stood (at least without the use of her Hollow). Growing here and there were trees as white as ivory; their trunks were ancient and gnarled, their branches twisted and bare. It was a perfectly clear night; the sky above was inky black and dotted with far off specks of light. Almost certainly somewhere upon the grounds there were people holding one another tight as they stared up into the perfect sky. Phere did not so much as spare these familiar skies a passing glance.
She took a couple of steps away from the building, kicking off her high heels when it proved difficult to walk upon the soft sand with them and took a good look at the palace itself. It was her kind of palace; elegant in its simplicity and upon a monumental scale. It made her own palace back home look like a hovel and though she might have disagreed with the vibrancy of the trappings inside, part of her coveted it for her own. She forced herself to put that to one side reminding herself that as grand and as desirable as this place was, it was only temporary. It was the other battlers that she cared about and with that thought she focused upon her objective, to get back inside. The front door was out of course and the windows were too high to sneak in through.
After a moment her eyes alighted upon a slender man in a black suit and bow tie smoking a cigarette near a discreet staircase, a little way away. Without a moment to lose she strode in his direction, already concocting a story as to why she was stuck outside. As she approached the man quickly stubbed out his cigarette and slipped on a featureless white mask.
“Excuse me,” Phere asked putting upon her most sympathetic tone, “I came out for a little fresh air and the door locked behind me. Could you just let me back in?”
“Certainly madam.” The waiter said courteously. “If you could just show me your mask I would be glad to let you back into the party.” Phere was surprised for just a moment, but it was just a moment too long.
“Oh shoot, I must have misplaced it.”
“That is a shame.” The waiter replied. “I am afraid I cannot let you in without a mask.”
“But I misplaced it.” A tone of irritation crept into Phere’s voice. “This is not fair.”
“Maybe not, but these are the rules that we must follow.” The waiter replied. “It is more than my job is worth to let through someone who was not invited.”
Phere scowled. “I was invited.” She snapped. “My mask is inside. If you’d just let me in I could lead you straight to it.” The waiter just shrugged. It was not his problem.
“If you will excuse me madam, I have to get back to work.” He turned and started towards the staircase, and Phere panicked. She needed to get back inside. She’d already been sidelined for a round dealing with Crowe; she needed to be amongst the thick of it this round before the others forgot about her entirely. In her desperation she grabbed the waiter, convinced her chances of getting back inside disappeared with him. “Excuse me madam, I’m afraid you seem to have grabbed hold of me.”
“Look.” She said. “Let’s make a deal. You let me in and I’ll do something for you.” The waiter looked her up and down, or at least the mask moved in a fashion that suggested that this was happening. “I can find things. Let me in and I will find you whatever you want. What do you want?”
“I want you to let go of me.”
“Then you’ll let me back in?”
“No.” he said bluntly.
Phere was at a loss. She could not believe she was losing a battle of wits against a waiter of all things. She was perhaps more shaken up by the Tower’s barrage of insults than she had thought. She was not strong and her magic was not something that could be relied upon. She had no ideas left, so dumbly she let him go. He promptly took a couple of steps back and regarded her as though she were something pitiful. Phere was just about to tell him to get bent when he said: “If you really want in that badly I know of a way you could get in…”
--------
It was a couple of minutes later that Phere stepped back into the main hall, not happy but at least she was inside. Gone was her glamorous outfit, now she wore the uniform of a maid and carried a plate of unidentified snacks. Behind the plain white mask she scowled.
As soon as she found her footing Phere spun around, almost tripping over her high heels as she did so. She scrambled for the door but before she could reach it it clicked shut and that seemed to be the end of the matter. No matter how hard she pulled upon it, it would not budge, not an inch. When this stratagem failed she tried knocking but received no answer; perhaps the music that was playing inside was too loud, or more likely they simply did not want to answer her. It took her an angry minute or so to concede that she was not getting back in through this door, after which she finally noticed the incongruity of the fact that she was unexpectedly wearing high heels.
Before she’d been removed from the party she had been too busy to notice her new outfit, but by looking at herself through the eye of her hollow she was able to see that she was wearing a backless purple dress almost identical to the one she had been wearing when she had been first tossed into this battle. This one however was more glamorous; it sparkled and shimmered in a way her old dress never had, in a way that was almost difficult to look away from. It was very reminiscent of the outfits the guests inside were wearing. She also noticed that she was wearing matching shoulder length gloves and though her high heels were not visible beneath the hemline of her dress they were very pointy and elegant and significantly less comfortable than the boots she had been wearing previously. Her long black hair had been tied back into a loose chignon; the only thing preventing her from looking exactly like one of the party guests was the lack of a mask, which she dimly recollected throwing to the ground as her Hollow stung. Phere scowled as she regarded herself; she hated her new outfit instantly. It was probably not the outfit that was the cause of this so much as that circumstances had already put her in a foul mood; it was probably the fact that someone had dressed her up as though she were their doll.
But as much as she resented whoever had done this to her, the fact that she was dressed for the occasion was an undeniably good thing. When she got back inside she’d blend right in. She wondered if the same was true of her competitors. She felt a little disconnected from the battle after spending a round trying to outbluff their host and she was sort of concerned about what had happened in the meantime; whether they had been forming alliances in her absence and had found a new leader to step into her void, or whether they had just devolved into mindless chaotic fighting. After a moment of thought she had an idea. Phere activated the radio implant she had had installed in the first round and tried the frequencies of the radios that she’d given to her allies, in the hope that one of them would be able to let her back in. It was disappointing, but not surprising that there was no answer.
It was chilly out here. Phere wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to preserve some warmth and she looked around. Beneath her feet and stretching out in every direction were jet black sands. The palatial grounds were enormous; it was only just about possible to see the wall that marked their edge from where she stood (at least without the use of her Hollow). Growing here and there were trees as white as ivory; their trunks were ancient and gnarled, their branches twisted and bare. It was a perfectly clear night; the sky above was inky black and dotted with far off specks of light. Almost certainly somewhere upon the grounds there were people holding one another tight as they stared up into the perfect sky. Phere did not so much as spare these familiar skies a passing glance.
She took a couple of steps away from the building, kicking off her high heels when it proved difficult to walk upon the soft sand with them and took a good look at the palace itself. It was her kind of palace; elegant in its simplicity and upon a monumental scale. It made her own palace back home look like a hovel and though she might have disagreed with the vibrancy of the trappings inside, part of her coveted it for her own. She forced herself to put that to one side reminding herself that as grand and as desirable as this place was, it was only temporary. It was the other battlers that she cared about and with that thought she focused upon her objective, to get back inside. The front door was out of course and the windows were too high to sneak in through.
After a moment her eyes alighted upon a slender man in a black suit and bow tie smoking a cigarette near a discreet staircase, a little way away. Without a moment to lose she strode in his direction, already concocting a story as to why she was stuck outside. As she approached the man quickly stubbed out his cigarette and slipped on a featureless white mask.
“Excuse me,” Phere asked putting upon her most sympathetic tone, “I came out for a little fresh air and the door locked behind me. Could you just let me back in?”
“Certainly madam.” The waiter said courteously. “If you could just show me your mask I would be glad to let you back into the party.” Phere was surprised for just a moment, but it was just a moment too long.
“Oh shoot, I must have misplaced it.”
“That is a shame.” The waiter replied. “I am afraid I cannot let you in without a mask.”
“But I misplaced it.” A tone of irritation crept into Phere’s voice. “This is not fair.”
“Maybe not, but these are the rules that we must follow.” The waiter replied. “It is more than my job is worth to let through someone who was not invited.”
Phere scowled. “I was invited.” She snapped. “My mask is inside. If you’d just let me in I could lead you straight to it.” The waiter just shrugged. It was not his problem.
“If you will excuse me madam, I have to get back to work.” He turned and started towards the staircase, and Phere panicked. She needed to get back inside. She’d already been sidelined for a round dealing with Crowe; she needed to be amongst the thick of it this round before the others forgot about her entirely. In her desperation she grabbed the waiter, convinced her chances of getting back inside disappeared with him. “Excuse me madam, I’m afraid you seem to have grabbed hold of me.”
“Look.” She said. “Let’s make a deal. You let me in and I’ll do something for you.” The waiter looked her up and down, or at least the mask moved in a fashion that suggested that this was happening. “I can find things. Let me in and I will find you whatever you want. What do you want?”
“I want you to let go of me.”
“Then you’ll let me back in?”
“No.” he said bluntly.
Phere was at a loss. She could not believe she was losing a battle of wits against a waiter of all things. She was perhaps more shaken up by the Tower’s barrage of insults than she had thought. She was not strong and her magic was not something that could be relied upon. She had no ideas left, so dumbly she let him go. He promptly took a couple of steps back and regarded her as though she were something pitiful. Phere was just about to tell him to get bent when he said: “If you really want in that badly I know of a way you could get in…”
--------
It was a couple of minutes later that Phere stepped back into the main hall, not happy but at least she was inside. Gone was her glamorous outfit, now she wore the uniform of a maid and carried a plate of unidentified snacks. Behind the plain white mask she scowled.
Heaven Help Us | Make Room!!!! | I'm Not Okay (I Promise)
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You