#sntsqnns

[laurestcphens]

closed masquerade starter who: @sntsqnns

She knows it's her, despite the glamour that covers them all. None else carry that same touch of death with her, perhaps other than little Nikko, but even the spell wouldn't change her features that drastically. For several moments, Laure considers ignoring her, like she is probably hoping, but tonight is also a night of politics, beyond the revelry, and Desmona still leads her own coven.

"I'm surprised you've let your little shadow flit about without you," Laure says in greeting as she steps up beside her, a glass of champagne tucked neatly in her hand. "Or are your thoughts preoccupied with someone else? I've heard some interesting rumors as of late."

Perhaps she should think twice about throwing stones from glass houses.

[dahliaalcott]

location: des and nikko's home time: a few days after she arrives in port leiry who: @sntsqnns

Her stride remains steady as she nears the edge of the city, where it skirts along the edge of the woods. Seeing the small cottage feels almost like walking back in time. The structure is different, as are the materials, but there's something about the home, nestled away from the chaos of the city, that reminds Dahlia of a home she had fled two decades ago and her chest aches at the reminder of all she had been missing. More than half of her life at this point, with only vengeance and hatred to push her forward and finally, she's within her grasp.

Slipping through the front door is deceptively easy, too easy if she lets herself think about it, but the time for thought has long since passed. Adrenaline and instinct drive her now and she doesn't pause to take in the decor of the house. It mattered little when she planned on burning it all down as she left.

The dagger tucked in her sleeve is spelled and she slowly pulls it free as she steps silently into the kitchen. Desmona's magic permeates every inch of the house, the same oppressive touch that she has never learned to forget. The woman cuts an imposing figure at the window, back to her and Dahlia grasps the opportunity with both hands. The blade skims along the other witch's throat, accompanied by a venomous hiss in her ear. "I've been dreaming of this moment for a long time."

[synashburn]

Where: A Fancy Hotel Who: @sntsqnns

'I'm worried this is a bad idea, Gretchen.' Syndra scoffed at the young blonde sitting in the passenger seat next to her, ''Shut your face, Anne, who wouldn't be curious to meet their secret lover? And I'm meeting her at a public hotel, so.'' she shut the engine off. ''Can you move-'' she swatted her hand against the girl's leg in order to reach for her bag on the floor. A sight only for Syndra to see.

A golden pen stuck out, the same pen she'd written secretive letters with to the witch she was about to meet. It'd been the perfect exchange in Syndra's book; a win win for the both of them. A witch that had been in need of cleaning up, someone who'd been following her and got on her back a little too close for Syndra's liking, so she'd done some research about the all too powerful witch Desmona Atticus and made sure her letter had received her end. 'There's a very special present awaiting you', she had written with an address, stamped with her personal wax seal, a gorgeously crafted fire seal.

Syndra had lured her stalker towards the address, an empty building in town, and trapped her in flames with one of her potions. Long enough for the witch she'd invited to show up. Syndra had watched, always watching, til her bait got taken. By the time screams had filled the room, Syndra had fled the scene, never showing her face to her guest. No big deal.

Of course Syndra had yet to thank the witch for her service. Another letter had been sent, one where she liked to show her gratitude, this time with the address of a five star hotel, to make up for the shitshow the previous had been.

Now she sat waiting in the hotel lobby - entranced by the hearth, staring at the flames smoldering the fresh put logs, wishing to touch the so well contained fire and let them go out of control.

[kingofthehunt]

( @sntsqnns -- the masquerade late, at night )

Blood rushes through his ears like a river. The rush is not enough -- it needs to be louder, needs to take him over fully. The things he's done with Oz tonight where too much -- too much to handle. The desperation inside of him, he pure lust to kill -- it needs to be gone, drowned out. But killing is too risky with recent events involving Olivier. So he finds himself bent over a toilet, sucking up white powder into his nose. It's not that he hasn't done coke before -- it's just been a while, and he's starting to get used to the rush again.

He's so high, it's like he can hear the earth turn -- and still, he feels her presence near. Soaks in her power with every cell, every drop of blood, every single bone. Elias wipes the seat clean, washes his hands, cleans his nose and then stands in front of the door, leans down to unlock it and does so -- waiting for her to enter. Waiting for her to come, and fight him.

"I can feel you.", Elias barks after a minute, "Give yourself one chance to feel me. You won't regret it."

[luciamazzoni]

closed starter for @sntsqnns the masquerade

"It's amusing, no?" She leans forward, unsure of who exactly she's speaking to - but enjoying this situation nonetheless. Her companions shrouded in mystery, but every single one of them beautiful - it's as if the creators of the gala know exactly what they're doing and what air they've created.

"Seeing them all dance around each other? Scrambling to find the one they need?" As if she's no different. Her obsession isn't quite so childish. "Are you in attendance with anyone?"

[sntssinclairs]

orphia sinclair;

masquerade. august 2024.

bitter, alone, and under @sntsqnns control, orphie stalks for a prey tonight.

[sntslomidzes]

ezra lomidze;

masquerade. august 2024.

in a surprising twist, ezra arrivies to the masquerade without a fanfair or troubles. (upon his own request, @sntsqnns has him enchanted to be on his best behavior.)

[tomaspriestley]

For: @sntsqnns

A haphazard collection of herbs and spices is sprawled on an ancient coffee table. Tomás has been sniffing them curiously (and pulling an array of faces) whilst sprawled on Atticus’ couch. He plucks one up, and puts it down — calls through some kind of question to go with it.

Hey Ms A — what’s with the cinnamon and weird green thing, are you cooking? And what’s with the jars — ? Is that a mushroom growing in a skullcap bowl?

Something about those being magical and hallucinogenic; whether they are, could be and is the skull real?

Often, Tomás finds Nikko’s house — well Des’, to be kind of nature sprite in the forest aesthetic, he’s been looking for the door to the secret lair for months.

Apparently, Nikko’s late leaving the radio station. So he’s waiting for him, and Desmona always has a good story to keep him entertained — he likes to write it up too. “So when are you gonna tell me which book to pull off your shelf so I can see the secret rooms Ms. Atticus?”

[cityofruinrp]

@sntsqnns

@sntsblackwoods

@weldedwolf

@cyrus-ripley