#c13event

[maiavxnturi-blog]

     Her nose was attuned to the stench of fresh meat. The patriotic members of England which, despite their lack of standing or position, found themselves invited to the palace. Maia was barely surprised, and her invitation (stamped with the royal seal) had caused not even a slight flutter of excitement - only the brief acknowledgement of prestige that accompanied such a friendship with the crown princess. The Venturi’s were held in high esteem, friendship valued from Gwendolyn to Diana, and thereafter Maia to Adelaide. Nods of recognition were received by Maia, as she entered the ballroom late - albeit still in fashionable timing. Grace was not a practiced trait, but something passed down from mother to daughter. Maia had been designed in Gwendolyn’s name, from the secrets to the seduction, she had it all down. A single glance could offer one thing, and conceal an internal plot. 

“A glass of champagne, miss?” The voice broke through her train of though as her serpentine eyes ran over the waiter, a mere toy soldier, nothing but disposable parts...useless. “Martini, gin not vodka...two olives.”  Her fingers clicked, shooing him away, as she began to further examine the figures clumped together. Her night was not without a plan, personal aims remained in the forefront of her mind. To taunt those who stood against her, pluck out those who had a glimmer of potential and continue the charade of her being nothing more than a rich socialite with more beauty than her parents before her.To them, she was certainly not deadly - but doe eyes could narrow to become a frightful gaze, where only death awaited the poor fool. If they were lucky, they might have even gotten introduced to seduction before their ends. 

Her nails had been painted a deep shade of scarlet, to disguise the blood stains which had impregnated the once pure surface. The delicate hand curled around the martini, which was delivered by the waiter whose name she didn’t care to remember. Rosebud lips parted as she set about her task of socializing, emerald green trailing behind her as she floated through the cluster of mis-matched people until she turned towards someone, lifting her drink slowly to her mouth, before speaking, “I find it quite strange that the ball has only been around for 31 years, you’d think former monarch’s would have seen the benefit of a winter ball. Or perhaps they did, and each adopted it with their own house name within the title.” 

[maiavxnturi-blog]

Maia Venturi attending The Annual Windsor Winter Ball, dressed in a green beaded gown from Michael Costello’s spring ‘16 line. Like an emerald viper, the heiress walks with magnificent style and beauty, to conceal the poison hidden within.

[silveredwidow-blog]

The palace. As far as Jacqueline was concerned, the night was all but doomed simply because of the spectral figure who loomed over her form, drenched in her late husband’s cologne. She lingered near the staircase’s banister, arms crossed over her chest, forcing her gaze to remain level as she stared out at the other attendees. 

The night was a mess. And perhaps it was because it was the first societal event she had attended after Damien’s passing. Perhaps she could attribute her cynicism to the fact that she wasn’t hanging off her husband’s arm, draped over him, laughing at a slight comment he’d murmured in her ear.

Miserable, that was a good descriptor for how she felt. It summarized her existence. Her feelings. Her outlook on the world as it was painted in monochrome. Miserable. Yes, that would suffice

  Whore. Murderess. Gold-digger. Slut.

They were whispers carried by rouged and chapped lips. Let them say what they want. The only thing that weighed heavily on her chest was the weight of the pearls strung about her delicate throat. 

Sensing a presence coming up from behind her, Jacqueline threw a cold glance over her shoulder, one that contrasted with the gentle curve of her lips. 

“Need something?”

[selinabenavides]

Windsor Winter Ball

Short, bright and childish - much like the woman herself. A Rani Zakhem dress that only sins by belonging to the 2013 collection, and that manages to remain innocent looking while showing the vast amount of leg and cleavage Selina truly cares to.

[aubriellenadir]

When she was a child, Aubrielle had at times wondered if it got lonely on the other side of the mirror, and attempted to soothe her reflection with attempts to coax it into conversation. Or eating. Or invitations to play. Some eighteen years later, she had yet to contemplate that she was the one on the wrong side of the mirror. The reflection has only four edges to prick her finger on, but here, in the ice-diamond world she had walked into, all things were shining and sharp and ready to draw her blood. (Beautiful things are also terrible too, girl. They are the space between god and the devil). It was so easy to forget that a fistful of diamond rings cut a man as easily as brass knuckles, and within the room Aubrielle had just entered, everyone was well armed. The party-goers with names inked onto the guestlist were like opulent icicles, freezing and sparkling stalactites that were simultaneously cold to the touch -- and even some capable of drawing blood, should they choose to break off from their resting places and puncture someone walking beneath them.

But Bri had no knowledge of this; she had the secrets men forgot to remember to lock up under her tongue, the slithering, sweet truths that amounted to a greater, marbled one -- but she didn’t know how close she was to danger. Not yet. All she understood was the immediate threat at her feet.

“Oh -- Just a moment.” Aubrielle extended a hand to catch on the elbow of the person moving to overtake her stagnant position in the hallway. Even here, in warning, she remembered to slow her voice and gloss it, rolling lacquer. She had relinquished her girlishness when she stepped into her gown and onto these premises, as with all nights with similar formula. “They’ve asked us to wait.” They, the staff that had darted away only a moment ego. In explanation, she tilted her eyes to the floor, where glass - or perhaps they were sharp shards of diamonds, for the way they glittered in the light - had been left shattered, decorating the hallway. Her gaze lifted upwards again, the edges of her lips rising with it. “Cinderella’s been by.”

[aubriellenadir]

W I N D S O R  W I N T E R  B A L L  2 0 1 5

aubrielle nadir ft.

paolo sebastian a/w 2015 gown ralph & russo eden pumps harry winston earrings & rings

&& the future of telehealth services on her arm.

[king-windsor-blog]

01/? Anatomy of a Look: The Windsors’ Winter Ball

Tailoring on Andrew’s winter suit, cut in black velvet and wool, began in October, with a meeting with his long-time cutter at Gieves & Hawkes at 1 Savile Row. He had originally intended to wear a velvet bow tie, to match his suit jacket, but discovered an hour before leaving his flat that it was fraying at the edges, and he chose to replace it with a new Dolce & Gabbana silk tie instead. His gold cufflinks with the Windsor crest were his father’s originally, one of the few material possessions of James’ he was left after the prince consort’s death he wears regularly.

[coalitionxiiirpg-blog]

YOU’VE BEEN CORDIALLY INVITED TO THE WINDSOR FAMILY’S 31ST ANNUAL WINTER BALL.

Held every year between Christmas and New Year’s Eve by Her Majesty Queen Diana, the Royal Winter Ball is a beloved tradition held dear by all those who find themselves in the family’s favour for long enough to earn themselves an invitation — and the coveted plus one that goes hand in hand. A meeting of London’s most powerful figureheads and brightest minds, all dancing beneath a sea of opulence, there isn’t another night in the year that brings such reaches of power beneath one snow-speckled roof. This year’s invitations have been sent out, guests have spent months on end enlisting Europe’s most coveted designers to create diamond-studded couture for the evening; all is as it is every year, with one exception — for the first time, Princess Adelaide has taken the reins on the event once spearheaded by her mother.

With the Princess’s hand responsible for not only the new touches of twenty-first century elegance, but the guest list, this year’s Ball is glittering with opportunity.

           For thirteen of London’s most powerful,           it’s a night of recruitment — to feel out           two raven-haired guests in particular,           evaluating their potential by whatever          means necessary.

                                        For the powerful — or those who wish to climb,                                         all of London’s sharpest minds are brought together                                         for the night. What a shame it would be, to let such                                         an opportunity go to waste.

                      For those who wish to see this world unravel,                       piggybacking on a plus one, or finding a clever                       alternate way in would provide an excellent                       opportunity for sabotage — to infiltrate, listen,                       and destroy from the inside.

In-character, the ball will take place the night of Saturday, December 26th.  Out of character, the event will commence immediately. Players are welcome to begin event-related threads until January 3rd, and to continue with these threads for as long as necessary after the event has ended. During this time, players are welcome to play out interactions during or after the event, so long as it’s clear when the action is taking place. 

You’re welcome to begin posting event-related starters in our starter tag, and if you’re so inclined, the c13event tag can be used for any event-related inspo, such as your character’s outfit for the evening. Have fun, and if there are any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask!