<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a9/e0/ca/a9e0cad0f1fe82aadad6f95ed69dc14d.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Isobelle<br/><strong>Location: Ballroom</strong><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Gown</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/UT8dpECXPdaXXagOFbXx.jpg_640x10000.jpg)<br/></div></div><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Elia<div class="floatright">(https://sites.create-cdn.net/siteimages/5/0/3/50308/93/2/8/9328459/747x1000.jpg?1416057531)</div><hr/>Like a feline in her natural environment, Isobelle felt the eager growth of excitement as her pearlized Cadillac Escalade Limo waited in the long line as guests were escorted up to the massive steps towards the mansion. This...<em>this</em>is the type of high society she belonged within, the type of living she was used to. Being the daughter of the Ethiopian Ambassador, and the Princess of Fashion of the Country, the woman was sweetly spoiled and incredibly wealthy.<br/><br/>Her gown was made of champagne silk, a low cut an elegant fitted garment of her own creation that was completely backless, exposing the smooth expanse of her tanned back and delicate spine. Her heels were gold with actual emeralds embedded across the straps that wrapped around her ankles, the jewels matching the set that hung from her ears. Isobelle was someone who relished any opportunity to display her exotic beauty as her eyes were almond shaped and curved in an almost Oriental fashion, the pupils like peeled grapes, and high and sharp cheekbones supported her facial structure. She was made taller by her heels, but was really a shorter woman, only standing at around 5'5" naturally with long chocolate curls that were currently bundled up in an intricate updo that put her swanlike neck on display.<br/><br/>Oh, yes. Miss. DeAlmeida was beautiful and she knew it, making it clear when her door was opened and her hand clasped onto the fingers of a servant who offered her assistance. The entirety of the right side of her face was covered by an ivory mask that weaved its way through a maze of crystals, a stark contrast to her caramelized fleshtone. She nodded to the man who helped her with a smile before walking up the steps with shoulders back and chin high, her confidence rolling off the thick curvature of her form in waves. The doors were opened, and she was inside.<br/><br/>The sights and smells of fall were everywhere, and she was astounded by the resplendence of the place; the paintings, the decorations, the furnishings...this was where she belonged!<br/><br/>Isobelle moved through the crowd, making eyes with both the beautiful men and women who stood on either side of her, her emerald gaze smoldering as she wordlessly invited them to come find her again later in the night.<br/><br/>There was no question where this event would eventually lead.<br/><br/>The ballroom was full, and after the Count and Countess greeted everyone with the invitation to dance, Isobelle helped herself to a passing tray that contained long-stem crystal flutes filled with bubbled Champagne, and once the music began she scanned the room before being distracted by a giggle beside her. Turning more to her left, she observed the fairly-like woman smiling to herself. Her hair was like snow, her skin an alabaster marble, and she seemed already influenced by the single glass of alcohol. She was beautiful, model-esque, a sight Isobelle was always seeking for her next runway show. But tonight wasn't about business....it was about pleasure.<br/><br/>"Hello," Isobelle said sweetly and boldly as the woman helped herself to a second glass on a passing tray. She took a sip and almost purred at the quality. She moved closer to the woman until their perfumes mixed in a heady and delicious plume of sensuality. "This is incredibly exciting, have you been to an event like this before?"