<div class="floatleft"> (https://78.media.tumblr.com/7b858c237a1fab0cf07878ad89f21088/tumblr_oxtt8afFCO1vxwaceo1_250.gif) </div><br/><strong> Name: </strong>Claudine a.k.a. Spade<br/><strong> Location: </strong>Ballroom (sidelines)<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Attire</div><div class="spoiler_body"> (https://78.media.tumblr.com/3878bda0143cedb7662109ca4f9ef34a/tumblr_oxtstwsgJu1vxwaceo1_400.gif)</div></div><br/><strong> Tagging: </strong>Mental Commentary, Open<br/><hr/><br/><em>Money. Power. Fame. Prestige. This was their world, behind their masks. However, if any knew who she was if they recalled her from a few years ago and who she was today, they would think her a wolf dressed in sheep's clothing, not the other way around. For but a night, she didn't have to be the wolf, or did she?</em><br/><br/>Not a one has paid Claudine mind as she idly circled the room in a slow stalking pace without gaze set on potential prey. Well, none with a pulse worthy enough to hold her attraction beyond a faint nod and weak smile before the soft moss green with dim flecks of gold eyes drifted in looking elsewhere as a silent statement of she wished not to be detained. The dark blush of her gown's crimson wine of burgundy color seemingly made her blend with the elaborate backdrop and lighting instead of standing out. Strapless, the smooth plane of her sun-kissed shoulders were bare since she had discarded the matching hooded cloak to the coats man. Under the cascade of tulle that spilled down her gown, the most any would see would be just a hint of the tips that peaked from under the intricate pattern of leather foliage that was her heeled shoes. As couture and vintage even as her gown was, it also held her secrets of how firmer her muscle had become since she had faded from social circles. Even with the plush velvet that hugged to arms from the tops of hands and flowed up to her biceps, more than the mask she wore further her concealment. In terms of jewelry, not that any would know, to each ring finger a piece of antique fitted her, the same in what dangled from her ears. The stream of crimson about her throat, new as it was old, the choker with the precious gem carved into the shape of a heart. The inscription behind it unseen.<br/><br/>The simple fact Claudine had maintained lingering just out of the peripheral range for those gathered was a touch sad as it was odd. The sorrowful note was because of how detached she was from the sea of the fellow entourage who no doubt was raised in the same privileged lifestyle and society as she. Such exquisite and fragile lives they no doubt lived. Though witnessing those merry bodies as they swirled and swayed, Claudine found herself reminiscent of her own past that but a few years ago that had come to a halting end when she was officially pronounced the sole survivor and heiress of all the Essex coat of arms stood for beyond the fortune and priceless antiques. To imagine, there was a time when she so easily could float about haplessly. Smiling. Laughing. Flirting. Entertaining promiscuous behavior. All of it. Was it she missed being so snuggly wrapped in the beautiful deception of happiness that she formerly devoured copious amounts of? Or, was it something deeper running down into a fiery vein of hellfire that was her own true guilt and greeds untold? Neither question did she dare ask of herself for fear of the repercussions of such knowledge when answers were exposed even privately too herself.<br/><br/>Then there was the other side of that gilded antique coin that represented the Essex bloodline which was best known as the woman Spade. The sheer fact Claudine made herself most comfortable on all which glittered, shined, and sparkled. Found on man and woman. Both captivated, and hungry. Oh so hungry, as always. All she could seem to fit her mind around was how eager she was to be let off her leash when the castle opened all its doors. There were potential business and profit to be gained and seized, one way or another. After all, despite her best arguments against partaking in this annual feast, this was why she surrendered to the notion born from her advisors, was it not? To bow, lost gaze to the floor in extending her own respects and even unspoken allegiance in loyalty. Though what that loyalty was still had yet to be known. A truth while an excuse to monopolize on potential future investments. That almighty 'what if' could once more rejuvenate the name Essex greater than it was now. So why not treat this costumed affair as a disguised business meeting? It's not like there was any chance this would be the night where something more alluring and precious had a hope of being found behind a mask. The road she was pioneering alone didn't allow room for a ring to be slipped on her finger and an anchor in her heart.<br/><br/>No, and no again. Even as her gaze feasted on the gleam of accessories worn this night, she needed to discipline herself. Here, she was neither Essex nor Spade. Simply, she was masked woman, nothing more and nothing less. Now if only her own gaze could fixate on a someone instead of a something. What a feat that would be indeed for her. As fingers pinched and plucked to collect a drink from a passing servant, forcibly she commanded her mind to drink the visages of others and not the gleam of stones they had decorated themselves in. Drawing the liquid filled vessel to her lips, she awoke and embraced memories from when she once had thrived under such gatherings as this. The pangs of hunger and the greed that possessed the body while also setting it free. Dragon. Wolf. Skeleton. And more. Now the question that needed be all that mattered now was but one. Which to not devour but, to<em>sample</em>first.<br/><br/><br/>