- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Not accepting invites at this time
- Posting Speed
- One post per day
- Multiple posts per week
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- Most days, most hours
- Writing Levels
- Elementary
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Nonbinary
- Agender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Adventure. Angels and demons. Apocalyptic. Arthurian. Comedy. Dystopian. Fantasy. Historical. Horror. Post-apocalyptic. Romance. Science fiction. Supernatural.
L A R K I N
Larkin considered himself an interesting man so he was not surprised to have caught the attention of Louis Bancroft. Larkin had never heard of Louis Bancroft before he received the glossy invitation, but it made perfect sense that a rich man with a fanciful name noticed him. The dark-haired man's reputation as one of the most talented sorcerers alive earned Larkin a fair bit of eccentric attention, and invitations. This invitation was a bit different, however. It wasn't every day a man with both the desire and resources orchestrated a gift exchange in the flavour of a masquerade entirely at his own expense.
The event was one shrouded in playful mystery, and it wasn’t as if Larkin was preoccupied with anything else. Even if his schedule had been quite full, he would’ve knocked some things around to make it happen. The unique scenario posited a once in a lifetime opportunity Larkin was sure he would've regretted missing. After all, who but Louis Bancroft would throw such an event? And would the man (who Larkin had made an effort to learn about following his jaunty invitation) ever host something like this again? Bancroft's record of sporadic but lavish events with no thematic connection suggested he would not. And as Mr Bancroft even fronted the money for the gift, how could Larkin refuse such a tantalising proposition?
Larkin could’ve taken the money and bailed, but what was money in the face of adventure? The sorcerer received only a snippet of information regarding the kind of gift he should procure, nevertheless it was enough that the man felt confident in his choice. Contrarily, Larkin expected to receive something bland (especially with the kind of gifts his counterpart wanted) as he’d offered no preference of his own for the type of gift he might enjoy. However, even an innately disappointing gift was thrilling through the lens of total surprise. At least before opening it. Plus, Larkin hoped whoever he’d been paired with was at least a little frazzled to have no information.
In the weeks preceding the ball, Larkin explored the mansion and grounds. He always wore his mask, as instructed. Larkin didn't normally like rules but this one was more of an enhancement to the experience than it was a hindrance to enjoyment. On his adventures, he took Styx everywhere he went. His widowbird familiar faithfully accompanied him throughout rooms and across the mansion grounds. Styx even joined Larkin for a few conversations, not that the bird was capable of saying anything, but he made an impressive shoulder piece.
Come the night of the masquerade, the already decadent decorated mansion was garnished with the final touches. Floral wreaths on windows and arches, and silver twinkling lights wrapped around draping red ribbons. Strings of bells chimed gently above as they filled the ballroom with a lighthearted melody. Larkin dressed to the occasion. He decked himself in a shimmery dark red suit with long tails and silver accents, which matched perfectly to his ruby mask. The man finished off his appearance with studded snowflake earrings before fastening the silver enamel pin to his lapel.
“Perfect,” he announced to Styx, who was perched on the back of a chair with his head tilted in disinterest. Larkin was glad he'd been granted such a perfectly matching mask upon request. He would’ve hated to be anything less than eye catching.
"Come on then," Larkin said to the bird as he held up an arm. "We have a gift to deliver."
As soon as Styx joined him, Larkin left behind his temporary lodgings to search the ballroom for whoever wore the pin that matched his own little wreath. He grabbed the thoroughly ribboned and bowed package from the dresser on his way out the door. It was a shame he’d had to settle on his second choice, on account of needing to be able to wrap and carry his gift.
Code by Jenamos