splitmemory | blood red stains and crystal tears

This job was going to be simple. It must be carried out without a single flaw, without a single second of hesitation.

With a plan in mind, the former general set out for a specific Kingdom, at the behest of Her Majesty. It certainly wasn't his place to take orders anymore, but.... For his sake, for the sake of Briar Valley, Lilia couldn't stand idly by and allow fate to have her way. Once again, he would be involved in the political affairs of his homeland, despite everything.

The first step to this terrible plan... was to make his move at the Masquerade Ball that the Hunt family was putting on. To make the first move would mean getting close to one specific boy.

A mask rests upon his face, obscuring some of his more masculine features as his long black and red bi-colored hair falls around him. The dress he wears leaving little to the imagination regarding his small form. Even so, the dagger strapped to his thigh was concealed easily, hidden under the excess fabric. He moves through the crowd, appearing lost, eyes scanning the crowd. For who, it's hard to tell -- truly, it's a ruse, a feint, to pretend to be just a helpless girl, unable to find a single soul who she recognized or felt comfortable around.

This ruse brings him to his Mark.

With a panicked look, eyes continuing to dart around, he makes sure to pretend to trip up, falling against a certain man. His gloves hands quickly press against the taller man, his face flushing under that mask of his as he turns his gaze up.

"O-- Oh my... I'm so so sorry, I wasn't able to watch where I was going, and--"
The play begins, with this one act.

Tonight is the night. Tonight, the Crown Prince makes his grand debut into high society, at his very own beautillion ball. It's not quite a traditional one though, is it? A wild young thing like him isn't well-suited to something so stiff as a white tie and tails. He far prefers the mystery and merriment of a masquerade--the excitement of never knowing whose hand you might be taking for the next dance.

Raucous though the festivities may be, it's still a beautiful ball--one filled with even more beautiful women, it seems. Rook gasps in surprise and concern, arms immediately encircling the dainty creature falling against him to hold her steady. Looking down at her, seeing the way that pretty flush complements her dress and mask so well..... It would take a heart of stone not to smile at her, a gloved hand lifting to stroke her cheek reassuringly. "Not to worry, mon belle. You aren't hurt, are you?"

Easily, like a beast caught in a trap, the victim of this ploy was waltzing right into his arms. Or, more accurately, he was wrapped up in the Prince's arms, both holding him steady, to allow him to properly balance upon his heels again. Looking up into the other's eyes, Lilia smiles up to him, allowing his fangs to poke out from his mouth. Those pointed ears of his poke out through his hair, skin almost as pale as snow.

"No, no I'm not-- um..."

Anyone would recognize those vibrant emerald eyes of the Prince. Both of Lilia's hands pull back quickly, as if embarrassed that he'd even thought to touch someone so special. "It's... simply.... a little more crowded than I expected, you see..." His eyes stay trained on Rook, his hands grasping at part of his own dress. "I wasn't able to watch where I was going. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Oh, what an exotic beauty. She's not human, is she? Is she perhaps a fae? A beastman wouldn't have such charmingly pointed ears, would they? How far must she have traveled, to celebrate with him? Making it here from Briar Valley isn't the easiest journey to undertake, after all.

Oh, how touching! He's honored that she would go to such trouble, especially when she's so clearly uncomfortable in such a large gathering. Is this perhaps her first ball, too? Just as Lilia had expected, Rook's smile warms, easily drawn in by such a bashful display. "Not at all. But since Fate delivered you to me, won't you honor me with a dance?"

A dance.
Playing this game was like following the notes along sheet music, playing the chords and tunes that've been passed down for centuries. Slipping his fingers across the strings of a delicate instrument, keen eyes focused closely upon his adversary, never letting his guard down. Would this man catch on, before it was too late? Tonight was only the beginning, after all.

Fate. Such a silly concept, to someone who was manipulating the very threads himself.

Still, Lilia nods. "Absolutely. I would love nothing more." The smile on his face felt so real to him. The charm of this Prince was nothing to bat his eyes at. A careful hand is lifted, offered to the Prince. "You may call me... Red, for the time being. We wouldn't want to spoil the mystery of the masquerade, would we?" Names are so very important to who we are, and what, really, is the point of such a party if he introduces himself so early, with a name that may or may not be true to who he was?

Ah, it's somewhat of a tragedy, what would come to pass eventually. Whether it be tonight or several weeks from now, blood would have to be spilled, staining everything it touches.

"Oh..... no, certainly not! Red..... a lovely name for an even lovelier lady. In that case, why don't you call me Harlequin?" Rook just beams, positively delighted with this new game. After all, red is the color of passion, isn't it? He can hardly think of anything more fitting, than to be taken by a flight of fancy with such a pretty little mystery.

Rook takes Red's hand in his own, bowing over it pressing a courtly kiss against her knuckles. It's only proper to show a lady a formal welcome, yes? "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Shall we, then?"

How strange, the name the Prince chose. Harlequin. Would that name fit this man, then? Would it fit who he was, who he would forever be? There was only one way to find out. A careful nod is offered, a step taken closer to the other, careful. Heels and a long dress were still difficult for him to manage, as much as he practiced for this day.

"Let's." A single dance wouldn't last forever. He could manage it, then allow himself to slink into the shadows, to gather more information... Or, well, give off that air of mystery he dearly hoped was drawing the Prince in. If everything didn't go exactly to plan, it'd be all the more natural, would it not?

Following over towards the dance floor, Lilia turns to face Harlequin, offering up a soft smile as he stands in front of him, shifting to take one of his hands, his other coming up to rest upon Harlequin's shoulder. A practiced, precise movement, for he knew he'd need to be lead in this dance.

Edited 2024-04-16 07:51 (UTC)

A single dance is all too short, isn't it? Barely even as long as a heartbeat, in the grand scheme of things. Just long enough to cling to each other for a fleeting instant, and gaze into each other's eyes. Even if they spoke through the whole dance, it still couldn't possibly hope to banish the aura of mystery the masquerade cloaked them both in.

All a single dance will do is leave him wanting more, surely. But Rook laces their fingers together and winds an arm around Red's waist even so, pulling her close against him with a mischievous smile. That yearning is only a small part of the fun, isn't it? If they both find such an ephemeral connection equally unsatisfying, perhaps they'll both look for each other the rest of the night, weaving and spinning through the crowd much like how Rook starts spinning them to the waltz now. "Such grace..... Have you danced before?"

What was it about that touch that made his heart race with such genuine feeling? A reminder, of a distant past? A fleeting memory, passing him by in an instant, as much as he makes memories anew. It felt natural, the way their fingers lace together, the comfortable, confident way in which Harlequin's arm slips around Lilia's waist, holding the both of them closer than Lilia can say he'd gotten to anyone in a long stretch of time.

Lilia's gaze falls from Harlequin's own face at last, his eyes focusing for a moment upon their clasped hands. The life he was going to cut short, the person who must die-- he'd give this man an enjoyable time, until the moment where they'd need to say a final goodbye would come. Those thoughts fall away, as ruby eyes meet emerald ones again. A focus that Lilia hadn't expected, falling upon Harlequin.

Pressing further closer, his hand grasping the other's a bit more surely, Lilia smiles, a small laugh escaping him. "Have I? Oh, my, you wouldn't believe the times I've spent dancing." This wasn't a lie, unlike some of his act. His true personality shines through, a little. After all, he needed to add in some truth, to fully solidify this persona, this act.

"Whether in the forest all on my own or with some mysterious figure, it is all the same. An expression, using our bodies, to describe nothing more than the deepest of feelings held inside."

"Tell me, Harlequin. Show me. What is it you feel, in this moment? What feelings have you kept deep inside, that can only be described between us two, between the movements of our dance?"

It feels like there's more warmth in Red's gaze at that admission, more of a sparkle in those beautiful garnet eyes than he's seen yet. That, even more than anything else so far, is what draws him in--that tinkle of laughter, slyly hinting at questions he knows he won't yet get answers to, even if he does ask. Rook laughs instead, smile warming into a distinctly unprincely grin. "How poetic! I couldn't have said it better myself, mon belle. But shall I try, just for you?"

Rook's grip on their clasped hands grows firmer, the arm around Red's waist shifting into something closer to an embrace. And this is why he must die, isn't it? The way he's so quick to reach for closeness and intimacy, even knowing they're not of the same kind, even without knowing her at all. The bold, expansive movements, the powerful exuberance that radiates from every step as Rook sweeps her along with him, gliding and twirling in an energetic dance that no longer even slightly resembles a waltz.

He's going to cause a scene, making such a spectacle of both of them, isn't he? Hopefully Red will be able to keep up. How could she have possibly practiced for anything like this?

Skilled in more ways than one, even in the art of manipulation that was formed through an act, the fae found himself unable to hold back the true feelings that burn so brightly within his chest as he's brought into such an embrace. The plan he'd conspired wouldn't truly crumble to ash, yet Lilia found himself blinded by the warmth of that unprincely grin, all of his thoughts focusing so deeply upon the man, taking in all of who he was.

This dance was more telling than any words the two of them could share, hardening Lilia's resolve while also beginning the process of breaking it down. No human had ever treated him with this kindness, with this intimacy, pulling him so close that, even with their differences, even with the past wars between other Kingdoms and Briar Valley that tended to harden the fae resolve against any and all humans-- Harlequin didn't seem to care or mind.

It's an impossible task to be sure, the attempt to keep up with this energetic dance, no longer following the movements of the crowd around them. Lilia is quick to pick up his own energy, his eyes focusing closely upon the man's body, studying his movements with the precision he knew was telling of his past. What past would Harlequin assume, of this unassuming beauty?

An initial stumble turns into a graceful flourish as Lilia manages to step in line with his partner's lead. The boundaries between them seem to fall apart within this one dance. Each step is followed, each twirl leaned into and added upon by his own hand, as if Lilia himself was taking the lead from Harlequin for brief moments, adding his own flourish upon their energetic dance.

A soft laugh escapes the masked fae, amusement and joy bright on his face. Had he been a weaker man, perhaps this single dance, that lasts no less than a few heartbeats, may have been the fatal mistake of Lilia Vanrouge, the fall of his carefully crafted plan. His eyes lock with Harlequin's, his smile bright and unabashed, unhidden.

All eyes were on them, weren't they?

This is pure chaos of the best kind, isn't it? Neither of them could have practiced for or foreseen this. Neither of them know what's going to happen in even the very next breath, thinking at best a single step ahead. But Red's light is dazzling, and her graceful creativity inspiring; she burns in his arms, giving and taking control like flames dancing in the wind. Her name couldn't possibly be any more fitting, could it?

Rook's delighted laughter is loud enough to be heard over the music and the buzz of the crowd, heedless of all the eyes on them. Even if this wasn't a masquerade, and his identity was exposed, what should he care? This is a rare thrill, being able to dance with such unrestrained joy with someone so beautiful in his arms. Rook's grin turns downright mischievous as the song reaches a crescendo, shifting his grip on her--and lifts Red straight off her feet to twirl her, elegant skirt billowing with the speed of their spin.

How could even Fate herself have weaved this together? This moment, this burning warmth shared between their embrace, the way their limbs entangle together in a way that shouldn't be so natural with a stranger, with someone who could very well spell the end of either of them... it was something that even rivaled the previous dances Lilia held close within his heart, within his memories.

The shifting grip causes Lilia's own hands to shift, grasping onto Harlequin's shoulders. Nothing could have prepared him, however, for the weightlessness he felt when lifted. Similarly to his own power of flight or the damn near acrobatic moves he'd make in combat, but somehow so much more freeing, when led by another person. His own laughter meshes with Harlequin's, unable to stop for even a second to think.

This was no longer even related to a waltz, was it? Oh, Seven, this hold, this twirl, was almost too intimate, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. It takes everything in him to even try to force a composed act in this moment.

Both of his gloved hands move up to cup the masked Harlequin's cheeks, taking a moment during the spin to lock their eyes, beaming down at him. Harlequin shined as brightly as the sun, almost blinding to someone so used to the dark.

I see you, your thoughts, your feelings, your desires. All of it is clear to me, in this one moment. No one else mattered, for the emotions they were sharing were far greater than anything they could understand just by looking.

Only as his heels click back onto the ground softly do those hands fall away from Harlequin's face, taking his hand again to part them, taking enough of a step back that the only thing keeping them together were their hands, clasped firmly together. His eyes scan the crowd around them as his other hand outstretches in a fancy little flourish, before Lilia quickly turns to bring them close again, as the music begins to come down from it's height. His own hand ends up slipping around Harlequin's waist by instinct, so used to being the lead in such a chaotic dance.

His chin tilts up towards Harlequin. The dance was going to come to an end soon, wasn't it? It's sad - they'd just begun, hadn't they?

She's so small in his arms, so light, it feels completely effortless. She looks so happy with her gaze locked on his, flying free as he raises her high overhead; it only makes his own all the brighter, seeing how he's made her smile. Red has such nice soft hands.....

And such confidence in the way she pulls him into her embrace this time. Rook giggles girlishly, effortlessly drawn in as he settles his hand on Red's shoulder. There may not be much time left to enjoy holding each other like this, but for what time remains? He doesn't mind letting her lead, so she can tell her own story, just as she had asked for his.

Why was he so okay with the change in lead...? With the shift from Harlequin embracing Lilia to the subtly strong arms of the former General holding the other man against him, pulled close in a very similar way to their earlier embrace. It made Lilia's heart race in his chest, his expression softening.

The steps that Lilia leads Harlequin in were so much gentler, yet energetic nonetheless. The eyes on them would bare witness to a new story, one that Lilia tells with his body. His dance holds a deep sorrow, a story of tragedy and hope. Of freedom and loss, flickers of hope-- Lilia's dance told it all, the elegant yet fast dance he leads Harlequin in. His own movements were as energetic as Harlequin's lead had been, each step, twirl, each flourish of their bodies together, tangling their limbs again in a completely new way. Together, his story would be weaved, placed in front of Harlequin like a confession.

Twisting his body, Lilia pulls Harlequin to him further, his ears picking up the tell-tale sign of a song beginning to wind down.

It's that that Lilia decides to dip his partner, eyes meeting Harlequin's again. His expression, under that mask of his own, has softened, his smile holding an impossible to identify emotion, somewhere between their shared joy and his sorrow, held deep within his chest. That smile quickly loses that sadness, however, as Lilia forces it down. Why allow the boundaries to stay ash, when he could rebuild them?

Lifting Harlequin back to stand, Lilia beams up at him, though it doesn't have that same energy as before. "My... you truly are amazing, Harlequin. I haven't danced like that with anyone in ages." Lilia turns his gaze down, keeping that smile but avoiding looking directly up at Harlequin.

Just... who the hell did this Prince think he was? Being so kind to someone he didn't even know. Hadn't anyone taught him to keep his guard up?

blood red stains and crystal tears

the Ball

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