- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- Multiple posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Fantasy, Pseudo-Historic, Romance, Gothic, Urban Fantasy, Steampunk
There was silence and then there was an evening of hoarfrost. Outside the mansion, the air was so clear and still that Astrophel could practically see the shimmer of tiny ice crystals forming. His room faced the snowy countryside, which was a most curious juxtaposition of movement and perfect calm. The bare branches of trees didn't move a whit, a thick blanket of snow covering all in a smooth, motionless wash of white — but oh, how it all shimmered! If he tilted his head just so or moved but an inch, the warm light pouring out from the mansion's windows would dance across the frost, slowly cooling under the pallor of the moon when his gaze wandered toward the horizon.
He was far more accustomed to the rhythm of the ocean, of the pattering rain or murmured conversation to soften the sound of pure isolation. What he wouldn't give for an old-fashioned fireplace, something to crackle cozily while he took in the view!
Instead, he got the jump-out-of-your-skin suddenness of his phone going off. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and answered the damn thing with facile warmth. "Quoi de neuf? It must be important."
The voice on the other end of the phone was equal parts energetic and defeated — an odd mix that was all too fitting for a father who'd just finished melting his credit card for his children's presents. "And I must be lucky, actually being able to catch you right now. We didn't have any real time to talk about the whole Bancroft situation, and —"
"I'm going to stop you right there. This stopped being a company issue well before I got on the plane, and I already know you're committing sin against your wife by thinking about work right now." Astrophel smirked, almost as amused as he was annoyed.
"Look! I know you've decided your own agenda and all, but half the country wants to know what's going on with the world's most exclusive Christmas party. If there's even a sniff of scandal —"
Astrophel filled his mic with a long, breathy sigh that quieted the man once again. "I am aware of the situation's gravity, Marcus. Also, it's Christmas. You shouldn't underestimate the importance of your own festivities."
It was Marcus' turn to wordlessly hiss his exasperation into his phone. "I don't like being in the dark, Astrophel. This shit is bigger than baking sugar cookies with the kids."
"Mn, la famille n'est pas quelque chose d'important. C'est tout ce dont on a besoin. Take it from a man who has none."
Marcus groaned. "You always weaponize sentimentality at the worst times."
"You think so? I believe the timing is absolutely perfect. I will call you if I need anything. À la prochaine." Astrophel wasted no time in hanging up and promptly silencing his phone. It disappeared into his pocket, along with any further thought about the world outside.
Tonight he would dedicate to his yet-unknown friend. Astrophel was certainly dressed for the formal occasion, all done up in a white suit with a black satin waistcoat and matching tie. The immaculately tailored clothing fit his slim frame perfectly, the added accent of dark half-gloves and a midnight-colored bat orchid boutonnière marking him as a gentleman of fashion as much as intrigue. His pale blonde hair was fine as it was messy, framing his elegant face with a roguish air before tucking behind his shoulder in an equally untamed ponytail. The pin he'd been told to wear, a glossy black thing shaped like a treble clef, had cheekily been pinned to the band keeping his ponytail in check.
After gathering up a modest rectangular package that awaited on the bed and slipping on a plain white mask, Astrophel took to the halls at last. He didn't wander long at first, finding a temporary perch by one of the many tall windows where he couldn't help but take in more of the snowy countryside.
@LuckycoolHawk9
He was far more accustomed to the rhythm of the ocean, of the pattering rain or murmured conversation to soften the sound of pure isolation. What he wouldn't give for an old-fashioned fireplace, something to crackle cozily while he took in the view!
Instead, he got the jump-out-of-your-skin suddenness of his phone going off. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and answered the damn thing with facile warmth. "Quoi de neuf? It must be important."
The voice on the other end of the phone was equal parts energetic and defeated — an odd mix that was all too fitting for a father who'd just finished melting his credit card for his children's presents. "And I must be lucky, actually being able to catch you right now. We didn't have any real time to talk about the whole Bancroft situation, and —"
"I'm going to stop you right there. This stopped being a company issue well before I got on the plane, and I already know you're committing sin against your wife by thinking about work right now." Astrophel smirked, almost as amused as he was annoyed.
"Look! I know you've decided your own agenda and all, but half the country wants to know what's going on with the world's most exclusive Christmas party. If there's even a sniff of scandal —"
Astrophel filled his mic with a long, breathy sigh that quieted the man once again. "I am aware of the situation's gravity, Marcus. Also, it's Christmas. You shouldn't underestimate the importance of your own festivities."
It was Marcus' turn to wordlessly hiss his exasperation into his phone. "I don't like being in the dark, Astrophel. This shit is bigger than baking sugar cookies with the kids."
"Mn, la famille n'est pas quelque chose d'important. C'est tout ce dont on a besoin. Take it from a man who has none."
Marcus groaned. "You always weaponize sentimentality at the worst times."
"You think so? I believe the timing is absolutely perfect. I will call you if I need anything. À la prochaine." Astrophel wasted no time in hanging up and promptly silencing his phone. It disappeared into his pocket, along with any further thought about the world outside.
Tonight he would dedicate to his yet-unknown friend. Astrophel was certainly dressed for the formal occasion, all done up in a white suit with a black satin waistcoat and matching tie. The immaculately tailored clothing fit his slim frame perfectly, the added accent of dark half-gloves and a midnight-colored bat orchid boutonnière marking him as a gentleman of fashion as much as intrigue. His pale blonde hair was fine as it was messy, framing his elegant face with a roguish air before tucking behind his shoulder in an equally untamed ponytail. The pin he'd been told to wear, a glossy black thing shaped like a treble clef, had cheekily been pinned to the band keeping his ponytail in check.
After gathering up a modest rectangular package that awaited on the bed and slipping on a plain white mask, Astrophel took to the halls at last. He didn't wander long at first, finding a temporary perch by one of the many tall windows where he couldn't help but take in more of the snowy countryside.
@LuckycoolHawk9