<div class="floatleft">(https://78.media.tumblr.com/340353926d30224378a32e525b272a78/tumblr_oxxz9cXbTS1vxwaceo1_250.gif) </div><strong> Name: </strong>Claudine<br/><strong> Location: </strong>Banquet Hall<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>Markus<br/><strong> Mentioning: </strong>Isobelle, Elia, Hudson, Stephen<br/><hr/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><strong><em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">T</span></em></strong></span>here was a glimpse, nothing more and nothing less. Watching as the quartet of masked faces formed a pack that was seeking to venture elsewhere within the castle. For the briefest of moments, Claudine wondered just how wise that was in judgment. Especially to be going off with bottles in hand. Certainly one would prefer to have some sense to them. Then again, even with her buried fears and suspicions, she was being no stranger to the drink. If anything, she could use plenty more. Which was rather foolish on her part considering the other things that were teasing thought dancing about in her mind.<em>That</em>and<em>those</em>, could and would wait until the time was, right. Truthfully, it was about the current now, not the later. With barely a smile she watched them scurry, straining to not chuckle at the path they were going. Also, to not chuckle under the bundle of nerves she herself was trying ever so hard to keep anchored at bay. If she herself gave into that nagging voice in the farthest end of the mind, surrendered to panic and fright, many a time precise plan would shatter before her. Instead of eating, hiding behind her front, she would prefer being in a sea of bodies. So she suspected. Then again, if all was a truth, it mattered not where any of them would seek shelter and sanctuary. After all, it was out in the open the Count Daough was supposedly murdered. So much for the belief of safety in numbers. Perhaps the quartet had exactly the right idea in mind after all.<br/><br/>Ideas and thoughts which evaporated rather instantly when her mystery dance partner had indeed chosen to follow her path. So easily distracted, which was not normal for her by any stretch. It was always eyes and mind on a goal she had set to achieve. Regardless, there he was. The man who aimed to be the Egyptian Deity, the Anubis Warrior incarnate. Well, at least in look. Though it seemed he even had a bowl filled with meatballs as she had suggested to him. The fact he had done that actually bled some warmth into even a small and gentle smile as the one she wore then. The warmth stayed even as his hand encompassed her own, leaving her jaw to twitch as enamel pressed down against enamel. Not exactly grinding, simply prepared in ready to hear something she would find displeasing on some level. Though secretly, she had to admit there was some bizarre sense of comfort to hear his voice. Soft. Confident. Almost as if she could actually trust him despite the masks they both wore. Even the way his fingers grazed her palm, she wasn’t getting even the faintest hint of animosity from him. If there was, it was not aimed directly at her. However, the last breath of his words before he released her hand seemed to hover in her mind a second or two longer.<em>”I promise you, I got your back.”</em>. Words that were quickly devoured by the shadows in her mind before she could attempt to cherish them.<br/><br/>Focused now on his next breath of words, sight flickering in a dance between his platter of food and the small gap of space that allowed his mouth to only be somewhat exposed. That had certainly been a passing thought in her mind before. Him, managing to eat while wearing the identity barrier his mask gave him.<em>Perhaps if he ate like a squirrel or a bird.</em>The tiniest of bites that would do nothing to excite the taste buds. From the looks and wafting aromas of everything, none of the prepared food that was being served was made to taste bland, obviously. So she suspected, at least. If memory served her correctly, the food was one of the numerous high points of delights that were spoken of after the night was over. There were other things said afterward, of course, none meant for the ears of polite society. Hence why everyone wore a mask. It certainly played the part into why she wore the particular mask she had chosen before anything else she currently was wearing. There was silent meaning behind her choice, not that she expected anyone to so passionately know history as she did and does. However, she also was free to eat and drink without worry, among other things if she so chooses. Or not chooses if- And that fast she slammed shut an instantly locked door on the hallway of thought while also throwing away the key. If for nothing else, her masked companion, the Egyptian Deity, did not seem the type for the<em>sexual games</em>she oh so enjoyed.<em>Then again</em>... quietly chuckled then as she looked away from him, reaching for her drink.<br/><br/>Indeed, he seemed to have that unspoken gleam to him that she was drawn to while they had danced. Fierce. Challenging. Intimate. Why even on the dance floor, more than a few impure thoughts had swum in her mind. Ones that either sank into the graveyard of forgotten nothingness or simply vanished when he abruptly had a particular fascination with his cell phone. Now that she thought about it, bringing the glass to her painted lips, the timing of events could not be more... peculiar. Off her dancing partner disappeared, returning in what seemed freshly new threads, acting too convincingly like a hen when a fox strolls into its house. All to be so easily swayed in distraction by, of all things, meatballs. Despite the bravado of her boast the murder surely had to be an act of entertainment, there was that tiny voice which whispered what if she was wrong. It was that fraction of her mind which refused to be compelled into becoming ice and steel. The lone source that gave birth to the hint of a quake in her tone and left oft nimble and precise limbs and digits to shiver. It was that same voice she was at war against within her mind as she greedily did not sip but, swallowed after a swallow of the drink.<br/><br/>Attempted to both drown that inane voice of paranoia while soaking each fiber of muscle into relaxing. Surely he had no hand plunged into what she strained to retain a continued belief it had been no more than a staged event. However, still, she found herself torn over what to believe despite her best efforts.<em>Was Count Daough indeed cradled and carried away in Death's arms? Was the man at her elbow an essential tool used in awakening Death where it was not invited?</em>Those questions whirled and whirled around in her mind, desperate to find the answers. Any answer that would soothe and comfort the restless babe of anxiety back into slumbering. All for the wrong reasons, of course. There was something far greater at stake this night.<em>We are all are simply pawns here in the confined trap of an endless game. Mere shadows of masked puppets that dance on a stage without a captivated and adoring audience</em>. One misstep, the curtain could fall on such an extravagant show as this one being performed by all of those gathered here. The first act had only just closed and this was no more than an early intermission.<br/><br/>It was the considerably apathetic thoughts of that nature that governed the movement of taking a now empty vessel from her lips. That awakened the hidden beast which coaxed the lids of her eyes to fall lazily as orbs of a murky bog in green and gold tones became more shadowed. Hidden behind the thick and curled bars of ebony lashes as they glided to side in looking to him. The essence that commanded warmth rejuvenated into the plump expansion that was her lips as their corners pinched and pulled, subtly grinning into her smile. That very thing which skipped and giggled carefreely around a word caught in the center to one of many webs within the corridors of her mind.<em>Trouble.</em>Even the sheer sound of it from him more than anything else he had said radiated the power to frighten and chase into hiding those insipid questions of doubt and fear. Already he had claimed to recognize just a bit of the stalking predator known best as<em>danger </em>within her eyes. Where there was trouble, danger always followed. The same said in reversing the positions. To say the least.<br/><br/>Much like how the hand he formerly had held a few moments ago discretely decided to play hide and seek. It's precise movements timed by the now steady thumps in her chest that no longer had an underlining pitter patter of nervousness. The hand falling to hide from sight and blindly land on his thigh. Glided finger pads and palm slowly across the firm plane of his thigh, forging a path to the inside curve as her head casually gave a subtle turn and inching cant towards him. Even the sweetest poison that branched in curving her smile deepened, fingers curling so flawless nails sank down against what it had sought, his thigh gently, testingly, as she quietly exhaled a throaty chuckle. If only he knew the switch he managed to flip within her mind by his uttering that magical singular word. Both appreciated and considered him precious for invoking such a delightful reminder within her. Even birthed the whispering question within her mind of who said trouble had not already found him the moment she had caught his eye. Then again when he made his brand of the charming proposal in polite demand to dance with her. Though was that trouble or danger, the line was rather blurred for her at the moment. Perhaps it was both.<br/><br/>"<em>Fortunate you, oh Egyptian Deity. Or shall I say proud warrior of Anubis? Makes no matter. I'll take proper care of seeing that your, hunger, is sated</em>," she practically purred, doing nothing to conceal just how naturally thick her Italian accent was. Nor the perfume of lust it had traveled out towards him on. Pausing only to slowly moisten her lips with the tip of her tongue for effect. Keeping her hand where it was, the other reached and swooped, clutching a fork delicately into her grasp. A hesitation hold before the fork was set down, the hand to his thigh now became fearlessly bold in giving his thigh a firm squeeze then completely letting go. Leaned closer, the hand formerly on his thigh now rising in scaling upward across him in a slow slithering path towards his chin. Needed not to see the stacked row on cheese found on his plate then, plucking one up between her fingers. Constantly keeping sight trained on what she could make out of the shine to his eyes, the hand used but two fingers to brush and slowly push his mask up enough his identity remained a mystery though not his mouth. "<em>First, we need to cleanse your palate so you can truly appreciate and savor everything, you,</em>" Timed perfectly with the whisper of that last word in sound, the cheese tickled in brush against his bottom lip, taunting his mouth to open for her offering. Once it did, her smile only to deepen as she lightly exhaled. "<em>Taste</em>."<br/><br/>Watched almost with curious fascination as he allowed entrance into the sweltering tomb of his mouth. Slowly guiding the thin mass into his mouth, her own chin giving a small rise as her breath became still. Held that thin slab of cheese over his tongue but a moment, then backed her hand away to allow him to suckle, chew, then swallow. Even before the small mass in his throat had completed it's downward journey, her hand had returned, a pulled pinch of meat between her fingers. Once again, as he obediently opened his mouth for her, she inserted the meat, keeping it hostage against his tongue. A moment to savor, a second to succumb to the rich flavor herbs and juices awoke in spread over his taste buds. All to release to allow him to again chew, combining the flavor with his saliva that followed down the morsel he swallowed. A breath was all it took to briefly revive the taste before her hand obediently returned, offering him more. Took pause only when she would wave her hand towards his own beverage, gaining her an opportunity to intake some food from her own plate. For them, time moved slowly on while it also ticked away, vanishing like the food on both of their plates. Right on until they both had only one piece each left of cheese so to cleanse their palates.<br/><br/><br/>