the formal (icon of hell optional)

[molotovmartinis.livejournal.com]

WHO: [OPEN]
WHERE: the Brandt Banquet Hall
WHEN: Sunday March 29
WARNINGS: B|
SUMMARY: the superhero formal. Will things explode?
FORMAT: whatever you feel like


There are extensive tables for hor d'oeuvres, small desserts, and champagne as well as an open bar. Room for dancing is obvious, flanked by a small group of musicians. And there are alcoves for the shy, the hiding, the amorous, the machinating, or the creeper lurking.

Comments

[daughterinexile.livejournal.com]

Mazikeen had never been one for functions such as these, with their pomp and their gowns and the tittering of people whose lives bared no consequence upon her own. When she had first decided to attend, it was simply to bare witness to some of the beings she could sense moving across her perception -- shadows of power or energy or magicks, some from Heaven and some from Hell.

Nowhere in Mazikeen's original equation was he involved and nor did she believe herself to have the heart or the stomach to include him.

And yet here she was, standing beside him in a dress, the color of which was his choosing. With one hand raised towards her mask, she looked up towards the elaborate ceiling overhead, adorned with of laughable representations of what humans imagined the Host was like. Overfed babies fawning over resplendent saints. She laughed, very quietly to herself before saying very lowly: "As inaccurate in this creation as in the last."

[meaculpable.livejournal.com]

As they made their entrance, Lucifer kept his hand right solidly on Mazikeen's back, his fingers lightly digging into the fabric of her dress. It was show of his possession of her more than anything else, and he knew she'd notice it and absolutely loathe what it implied.

More's the pity.

"They will never learn." he quipped, already steeling himself for the aftermath of the night; for the inevitable fallout of her finally having him in one place, alone, and taking advantage of it.

[daughterinexile.livejournal.com]

There was a time when Mazikeen would have walked behind him, head bowed and face enshrouded in an act of what was once her fealty to him. And then, for a while, it was side-by-side, even though they both knew it was simply a trick of the light. For even then she bent to his desires willingly -- a blade wielded against those who stood between him and his elusive freedom. However, those things now felt a long time past, covered over like a scab upon a wound.

But now -- what of this, she wondered, and of the hand that she could feel pressing against the dip of her spine, a gesture that made Mazikeen's lips scowl behind her mask and made the lifeblood within her veins run hot with anger and indignation and deeply resented desire.

"I do not understand this creation," she then said thoughtfully, tilting her head slightly to one side to study his profile. "It seems to exist solely to steal its occupants from others."

[meaculpable.livejournal.com]

Lucifer could feel the breadth and span of the emotions welling up inside of her almost as clearly as he could feel the curve of her spine beneath his fingertips. At the best of times, his beau Second was a barely contained storm contained only by the boundaries of human flesh, all fiery wrath and an exiled daughter's propensity for grand, lightning-fast acts of defiance; but now. Now all that was left was the tempest.

He only had himself to blame, really.

"Do you believe it could be another failed experiment of Yahweh's?" he asked, casting her a sidelong glance. "A sort of parasitic nexus for every other creation in the vast expanse of existence?"

[daughterinexile.livejournal.com]

There was the barest sensation of movement across the periphery of Mazikeen's consciousness -- a consciousness which had expanded a billion-fold upon her former master's departure. His parting gift (as he had once called it) now made her aware of his will brushing up against her own whenever he perceived her. Just the faintest of contact, not unlike a lover's touch -- or at least more so than the gesture that still remained pressed up against the small of her back.

Mazikeen frowned more deeply. Such things were unwelcome. And yet she did not move to stop him.

"I make no pretense to understand His methods," she then said as she turned towards him more fully. Her dress made a soft hushing noise. "But there is as much sense in it as the last. Little at all." Mazikeen paused.

"You intend to leave this one as well."

[meaculpable.livejournal.com]

He paused mid-step, and turned his full attention upon Mazikeen knowing full-well that how he handled what next awaited him could very well have meant the deaths of every single living creature within this place. Oh joy of joys; Lucifer let out a tiny sigh, and contemplated his options for a silent moment.

Deserved or not, a domestic disturbance started by two of the most powerful beings in Creation would have to have a certain...rather large amount of fallout that he simply could not afford to deal with at this moment in time. And yet, he would not lie to her: this existence, as with every other Creation of Yahweh's, was not his own, and therefore would never be the destination he so fervently searched for.

"Give me you hand, Mazikeen." he asked, voice threaded with gentleness. "Dance with me and take whatever truths you seek from that."