[color=gray] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/vm76qmi.png[/img][/center] [color=FireBrick][b]Location:[/b] [/color] Damien Estate [color=FireBrick][b]Time:[/b] [/color] Sola 23 / Night [url=https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102374649846829086/1136484429242581065/image.png]Shoulders[/url] [url=https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1102374649846829086/1136484428923801731/image.png?width=453&height=604]Mask[/url] [url=https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102374649846829086/1136484429511008457/linda-friesen-raven-queen.png]Dress[/url] [B]Masquerade.[/b] [I]A false show or pretense.[/I] [B]Party.[/b] [I]A social gathering of invited guests, typically involving eating, drinking, and entertainment.[/I] The Damien Estate Masquerade Party. The grand event of the evening fit so perfectly for what was to come. What was meant to be a themed fun-filled gathering, was nothing more than a boost to a single man's ego and popularity. A game with a predetermined winner. His moves were already laid out, prepared with the thoroughness of a psychopath. But did he consider the price? Did Violet's father think of the dangers of inviting falseness into his home. To gather, drink, eat, and be entertained amongst his that was so fragile underneath the surface of the visage they displayed. A visage that was purely just another pretty mask of his masquerade party. Inside her moonlit chamber, an air of sadness enshrouded Violet, like a spectral veil woven from strands of her pain. A black lace string wound intricately around the back of her head, her hair pulled back tightly away from her face and shoulders in a beautiful braid that twisted into a bun. A mask hand crafted from the plumage of raven feathers adorned her face. Her crimson eyes shinning from behind the mask. Her attire whispered of dark beauty, a testament to her father's ostentatious intentions. A gown of onyx silk clung to her form, its fabric cascading like liquid darkness, pooling at her feet. The grandeur of her collar was a profusion of feathers that sprang forth like wings, framing her features with an eerie elegance that bordered on the surreal. Although her father’s gift was wonderful, Violet couldn’t help but question the intention behind his actions. Yet, behind this façade of extravagance and beauty lay a monster. Violet's heart thrummed with a dissonant truth. Her father's lavish indulgence may have cloaked her in finery, but it could not obscure the monster that festered beneath the surface. Unseen by the world, a hurricane of turmoil churned within her soul, a maelstrom of emotions that continued to build each hour that passed. The frigid night air played upon her skin, a symphony of prickling sensations that whispered of the world beyond her cage. A subtle curve graced her lips, a peaceful feeling tugging at her heart as she yearned for the view from her balcony, where once she had been able to peer upon the beautiful night sky. Yet, this simple pleasure now eluded her, eclipsed by an insidious craving that gnawed at her core. In the veiled night, Violet stood on her balcony bathing in the light of the moon. As the night enveloped her in its darkness, Violet reached into the pocket of her dress pulling out the letter she had received earlier in the day. Opening it up she held the letter against the balcony; the blurred scribbles of her friends’ writing was a much needed reminder that she wasn't alone. A quaint distraction that took her mind and senses elsewhere. Safety and caution could not reach her in this momentary bliss. Who knew that Roman would be such the accomplice to her complacency this night? A sudden whistle of wind filled the air was like a signal of the perfect time to- Violet felt a swift pressure wrap around her throat and head. Her body was being pulled back from the balcony's edge, away from the moonlight that lustered her alabaster complexion. Violet's trembling hands clutched at the arm coiled menacingly around her delicate neck. Her heart pounded like a wild drum, reminding her of the growing sense of dread within her. In a desperate frenzy, Violet's nails, long and sharp as razors, tore into the arm that sought to claim her life. The tearing sound of fabric being savagely shredded echoed in her bedroom as her cries of help muffled from the pressure around her neck. But no matter how fiercely she clawed and scratched, the grip on her neck showed no signs of relenting. Deep cuts from her claws digging into the strangers arm as blood appear to drip onto her pale skin. The air around her became suffocating, each empty breath a torturous reminder of the tightening grip that held her. She fought with every ounce of her waning strength, a primal instinct for survival warring against the person. With each passing moment, the darkness seemed to grow around her. Violet's defiant struggle was now veering into a hopeless battle against whoever had her. Her consciousness wavered, her vision blurred even more, and the world around her began to twist and warp. And then there was darkness. Silence. Nothing more to feel. Bliss twisted. As the darkness took her, Violet felt a sense of calm wash over her. Her body collapsed limp in the embrace of the stranger. [color=firebrick] [i]Finally…[/i][/color] Taken from her peace and in moments from her home, Violet faded into the abyss of night: her captor, a man wearing a black mask decorated with two golden horns of a ram. The only sign left of the strange visitor was the crumpled up letter from Roman, laying in the middle of Violets bedroom floor with tiny droplets of blood decorating the once pristine paper. [/color]