[color=lightgray][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/YGxzxVR.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/AVwIuBJ.png[/img][/center] [color=D0B4EC]Time:[/color] Evening [color=D0B4EC]Location:[/color] Castle Dining Hall [color=D0B4EC]Attire:[/color] [url=i.imgur.com/ErZIgzY.jpeg[/url]Dress[/url], [url=i.imgur.com/2SBcciZ.png]Amulet[/url] [color=D0B4EC]Interaction:[/color] [@Apex Sunburn] Sjandehk [@Oso] Cassius [@JJ Doe] Fritz [@FunnyGuy] Lorenzo/Alexander [/color] [hr] [color=lightgray] The ballroom shimmered like a dream woven in candlelight, but Charlotte Vikena could no longer discern reality from illusion. She sat with her hands folded delicately in her lap, an attempt at composed elegance. Yet, her fingertips trembled uncontrollably. Phantom sensations danced across her skin—an icy brush of unseen fingers tracing the curve of her shoulders, whispers of a forgotten touch, and her heart thundered in terrified rhythm. Charlotte's focus abruptly shifted as Olivia rose suddenly, movements oddly stiff and mechanical. Olivia quietly murmured something to Kazumin and moved towards the balcony doors, the expression on her face distant, troubled. Charlotte’s heart clenched painfully; concern etched itself deeply into her elegant features. [color=D0B4EC]"Olivia…?"[/color] she breathed softly, fingertips gripping the fabric of her gown tightly beneath the table. She considered following them, but her legs felt rooted, heavy with hesitation. A sudden chill crawled down her spine, distracting her. The ballroom lights flickered ominously, shadows elongating like grasping hands across the polished marble. She shivered involuntarily as the sensation of cold fingers tightened around her wrists, pinning her to the chair. A waiter dropped a tray somewhere distant in the room, the sharp metallic clang reverberating through Charlotte's mind like a prison door slamming shut. She flinched, her pulse hammering painfully in her throat. Phantom murmurs filled her ears, indistinct yet menacing, threading fear through every breath she took. Charlotte drew a shaky breath, struggling to anchor herself as reality and nightmare twisted indistinguishably around her. She clung desperately to the edges of her unraveling composure, her gaze fixed helplessly on the spot where Olivia had disappeared from. [color=1E90FF]“Charlotte, I think…Charlotte, you should go find doctor,”[/color] Sjandehk's hushed voice filled her ear. [color=1E90FF]“It is…It is possible that you are sick, or maybe…You drink something you should not. But either way, I do not think you look well. You should get help.”[/color] His voice had gently pierced the fog enveloping her, steadying her briefly.[color=D0B4EC]"You’re kind to worry, truly,"[/color] she murmured, her voice soft, but her expression fell apart rather quickly, and she admitted softly to him, [color=D0B4EC]"I fear… something is wrong with me."[/color] [color=D0B4EC]“I’ve been seeing and hearing things that I’m not entirely certain are real.”[/color] Her voice dipped into a hushed confession taut with dread. [color=D0B4EC]“It crossed my mind that it might be poison. The symptoms align... Belladonna, perhaps. Or datura. Even monkshood in high enough doses can cause hallucinations and confusion.”[/color] Her brow furrowed delicately, her mind visibly working through possibilities. [color=D0B4EC]“I may need to go to the hospital, if this is physiological rather than... imagined.”[/color] Chains rattled sharply in her ear suddenly, scraping like iron teeth against stone, echoing in the darkness around her. Her hands clasped over her ears, and she leaned over. Then, the icy sensation of frigid water flooded her lungs, merciless and choking, filling her chest with a piercing agony. Her vision spun, distorted, and blurred by panic and pain. Then, cutting through her terror like a blade, a voice—cold, splintering, inhumanly sharp—hissed right beside her ear, each word punctuated with venomous precision: [color=7bcdc8]"Hold her still."[/color] Charlotte’s entire body went rigid. Her breath snagged painfully in her chest, throat constricting like a tightening noose. A phantom stench invaded her senses: moldy, damp cloth mingled with rusting iron, suffocating, oppressive, pulling her deeper into the nightmare. Her vision collapsed into a dizzying tunnel, black spots dancing at the fringes, suffused with dread. [color=7bcdc8]"Stop thrashing."[/color] The command came again, from that same mysterious voice, sharper, more impatient, dripping with cruel detachment. A helpless gasp clawed its way up her aching throat, burning like acid. Another voice surged inside her, young, fragile, pleading—her own terrified echo: [i][color=D0B4EC]I’m not sick... I’m not sick.[/color][/i] But the words tasted bitter with denial, swallowed by shadows. [color=9354FF]“You do look unwell, Lady Charlotte. Would it help if Lord Cassius Damien escorted you to the infirmary?”[/color] Her eyes darted to Fritz, unfocused, and when she did, he seemed to grimace at her. As if she were beneath him, not even human. [color=D0B4EC]"I-... Why him-"[/color] The room tilted sharply once more, and she hadn’t noticed Cassius's approach, but there he was in front of her suddenly with those beautiful eyes of his filled with concern. Her vision blurred and her fingers gripped his desperately, clutching him far tighter than she'd intended—as if terrified he might vanish if she loosened her hold for even an instant. [color=lightsteelblue]"Lottie…"[/color] His voice was soft, a gentle caress entirely unlike the sharpness he'd wielded against Prince Callum or Lord Ravenwood. [color=lightsteelblue]"I believe it would be best if both of us stepped out for some fresh air. It’s beginning to get a little stuffy in here, it seems."[/color] He offered her a reassuring smile, one she had glimpsed the night before, then he leaned closer and whispered, [color=lightsteelblue]"Let me help you, please."[/color] His gentle words, his genuine demeanor... It made something unbearable stir in her chest. A rush of infuriating hope surged through her, tangled with raw, aching pain. Even if her mind had been clear in that moment, even if the world weren’t tilting sideways, she wasn’t sure she could’ve found the right words anyway. Not for this. Not for him. Charlotte finally drew a shaky breath. For the first time in what felt like hours, her chest expanded fully, but it ached, like it had forgotten how. They were right. [i]She needed to leave. [/i] Considering the bizarre words of Leo and Thea, she knew that it would be difficult to decipher not only what she heard was real but also if what she was seeing was real. She had no clue what to even think of the strange voice and terrible sensations, but one thing was clear: she was more on edge than she could remember feeling as of late. [color=D0B4EC]“Alright—”[/color] The word barely left her lips before her breath caught. [i]Then her gaze caught Alexander.[/i] He glided past with grace. His eyes locked onto hers, and for a breathless instant, he smiled at her in a way that made her skin prickle with dread, and something in her gut told her this one had been real. Nausea twisted her stomach as she watched Lorenzo and Alexander leave the room together. [color=D0B4EC]“I need to find out what’s going on,”[/color] she said, her voice sharpened suddenly, [color=D0B4EC]"I’ll be back."[/color] Standing unsteadily, she smoothed trembling palms over her skirts. The room swayed dangerously, and her name echoed faintly from afar, but she hurried after her stepfather. Beyond the ballroom, the hallway stretched long, dark, and distorted. Distantly, muffled voices rose—Lorenzo and Alexander, behind closed doors. Charlotte lingered, her courage faltering. Then she hurried to press her back against the cool wall, breathing shallowly. The stone beneath her shoes pulsed faintly, unsettlingly alive as she tried to overhear the discussion. Subsequently, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she tried to ignore the shadows that crept closer, slithering like ink in water, curling inward as if drawn to her trembling heartbeat. [/color]