Plot Challenge: The Duchess and the Mask

Diana

LOOK HOW CALM SHE IS
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Online Availability
10AM - 10PM Daily
Writing Levels
  1. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Female
Genres
Romance, Supernatural, Fantasy, Thriller, Space Exploration, Slice of Life
PLOT CHALLENGE

Plot challenges are designed to help you think quick and be inspired. We often play this game in the cbox, shouting out random words or phrases and see what ideas first pop in to people's heads.

To Participate: THINK FAST. Don't waste any time. The first idea(s) that comes to mind, write it down and post it!

NOTE: If you decide to borrow someone's concept for a roleplay, make sure you give credit.

Challenge Phrase
The Duchess and the Mask
 
Centuri, a man known as the eternal stranger, his only possessions are the clothes on his back and a strange mask, half black and half white. When he comes to the castle of a Duchess, will he upset the the order of things? After all, what kind of man can be an eternal stranger?
 
Sitting at her vanity, staring into a bland expression, she wonders how this all came to be. This was the only way, the only release she has anymore. Days have become gray and dull, always the same, always tiring and depessing. A slender hand passes over a black mask, dark as night. Laugher could be heard beyond the door, the clinging of glasses and the squeals of young mistresses as the masters shower their necks with kisses. With a swift simple movement she stood and placed the mask over her eyes, her nearly see-threw gown flowing around her as she made it to the door. If day could not satify her...then she would play in the night.
 
As a duchess from a very high ranked family, Gwen must do as she's told, when she's told. She must never act unladylike and must marry a foul, poor excuse for a gentleman. One day, while retreating to her favorite attic hideout, she stumbles upon a beautiful and intricately decorated masquerade mask. The moment she touches it to her face, she transforms into a masked vigilante! As if her life couldn't take more of a turn for the exciting, she, as the Masked Duchess, meets a charming, yet lowly classed young man and falls madly in love. Now she's torn between her duty and her heart's desires.
 
The Duchess and the Mask. Bounty hunters with shitty names. Vilgilantes who have no loyalty to anyone, but themes selves. Exhibitionists who have been highly trained. These two have been making a name for themselves all of the Golden Trails, but this small town sheriff ain't naive enough fall for rumours. They're coming my way, but I know what they are. Ain't nothing but two old haunts who know how to play ijits with empty gestures. Time to get the salt and the holy water ready. Been a long time since I fought both a banshee and a Vampire, but it's all in the day's work for Tucker Taint, Sheriff of Helltown.
 
The two of them were as unlikely a pair as anyone might have imagined, perhaps even too audacious for the most scandalous of scrollwriters; the Duchess, heiress of the greatest fortune and most fertile lands, to fall in love with a total stranger behind a mask - no less one daring enough to return her forbidden affections. Novelty bred intrigue, and well within their lifespans, the adventure they shared had become legend.

It's a pity that I've learned it was all the result of a brilliant fabrication.... but I do believe that part at least, I shall keep to myself.
 
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Claudia stood perfectly erect in regal splendor as she pledged her life to the known womanizer Duke Neaman III. Her father had insisted that she marry well, and his family had insisted he marry a true gentlewoman of good breeding and name. Neither was happy about the arrangement, but neither was able to prevent it happening either.

The night of their marriage, he left her to consort with his 'more favorable' playmates. She did not care for his touch, so his leaving mattered not at all to her. This was their ruse, playing the dutiful happy couple by day, and going their separate ways at night. until the day his father met with them both and demanded to know why there were no heirs coming forthwith. They both assured him that they were indeed working toward that end, which seemed to satisfy him for the moment.

Once his father left the room the Duke turned to her, "We shall have to do this thing, though I know it will pain both of us. He will not leave off the subject until you are with child."

She nodded and the two moved to their bedchamber and began to disrobe. He stood before her, in all his handsome splendor and looked at her without a bit of appreciation or admiration. He left her for a moment and returned with a ceramic mask, "Wear this, and I shall pretend I am elsewhere and the deed can be done. Let us hope it will not have to be often."

She placed the mask upon her face and he carried her to the bed and as abruptly as possible performed his duty. Just as abruptly he left her not seeing the tears of pain and rejection behind that mask.
 
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She stared at herself in the mirror. Some days she felt as if she could feel at her cheek the line where the mask began and the skin ended. Was this her face? She had spoken to Pontiff Merim about this feeling, that she was a spectator to a grand play, but the play was her own court. She remembered the days when she took great pride and love from defending her own, but as of late, the mask drew farther and farther from her face, despite the fact her visage remained the same.

How had she come to the point? When did it begin? How had she become an impostor in her own life?

"Duchess?"

She turned to her lady-in-waiting. Gods bless Amara. She was the only thing that felt real anymore.

"Yes?"

"Umber Whitehart wishes to have an audience."

"Of course. Tell him I will be there shortly."
 
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