Masquerade
Continued from here : +
@victoriafreakingmcqueen
The cornered decision ; one he notably considered could be met with minimal resistance. It had been conjured by merely witnessing the issue of her disposal in a substance that could numb her senses. A poison to taint her mind. Knowing her background like an open book, it was a dangerous chase he wished to pull her from, forcefully if he must. It was after all, the design behind his abrupt and silent offer.
Underlying as his gaze may have met the general outcry. He was poised to retaliate against those that offered her the drinks. The very same faces hindered under falsified features, who urged her on with other foul intents his mind could only guess at and fret over.
Malice crept behind slits , pools of russet brown cast iron with resignation toward his fiendish nature overturned. Provoking any of her male counterparts to protest or dare offer her another glass. Holding half a mind to obliterate the glassware while they still held onto it. With greater objective to maim every single one of them. But the urge staled –
When his prize showed signs of accepting, leather soothed across her palm where digits instinctively claimed her hand in it’s entirety. His touch was diminutively cold even between the barrier adorning hands. Yet it complimented mysteriously , a warmth invitingly context. He felt this premature ventricular contraction in his own heart as it skipped in beat at the cost of her touch, acknowledging. The acceptance that kept his sour flex at bay, instantaneously lifting his mood and it was certainly on exhibit for all to notice with no sign of care faltering his pursuit to wisp her away from them.
Guiding her under the guise of grace while a thumb soothingly encircled over the face of her hand, held upright and sought with precise etiquette. His gaze never wavered from her company upon their ascension. Attentive of the figure , petite in her dress that enhanced assets of her skin, brought color vibrantly from her gaze that could subdue in secrecy. He was staring in admiration when her confession broke into his thoughts. – don’t know how to dance . How typically Victoria. It honestly didn’t come to him as a surprise. This type of thing didn’t merit to her style and he knew it from the beginning.
He didn’t respond however, at least not verbally. A half cant expelled his gaze , descending hues would follow the hand that crept at her backside. A smile, vaguely pursed with restraint. A yielding touch, faint but direct at the curvature abroad, fluttering along, caressing and imprinting above her waist. Eyes no sooner floated to greet her directly as he brought around the hand he possessed within his opposite limb.
Pressing her backward and shuffling his foot between her own. Conjoined effort to force a counter in his initial move with one similar; making it near impossible to not mirror in all but rhythm, for now. The insinuative urge backpedaling his playmate while his other leg joined offset, once aligned he’d send her toward a glide that would twirl her about once, then a pause in between each step giving her room to analyze. It was here that he dared to pull her closer, tautly commanding if not brazenly imposing. A crook of that earlier smile, etched further. To feel her close , he’d admit was manipulating his own game, becoming a strain to not break character then and there. To simply muse over this display.
Like the child she held vibrant tenacity to see , Victoria McQueen had been one customer tough in convincing any other probable outcome when concerning himself onto redirecting her discredit. The situation could just as easily shift in tides , and yet the man before her stipulated to be content with that possibility as if some expectancy dare thrilled him. Still he sought her gaze with a resilience of his own upon that moment, desperate to glimpse a reward of any emotional dips to captivate her countenance. When she didn’t provide him with much , tiers smudged with disappointment.
“ That you shall, Victoria. That you shall. ” A sharp edge that still ferried his delight. If not constricting it’s very corners to a rough, malformed exhale in suit. She shan’t sully his mood , not when he, Charles Talent Manx , held an ace up his sleeve. One he had been certain to entice her into his web further. Woo her straight into his arms without any doubt to concave his mind.
Christmasland had become so much more in the last two decades, herald as a jewel and answer for any or all reception concerning his new interest since Jolene July. A Creative’s wealth per say had been their inscape , their power out on display. Flexing both warning and reverence within equal totems. His just so happened to also be his life’s work in the most literal term. Too grand of a vocation for her to simply dismiss over trivial concerns that would soon be put to equanimity once visiting and talking to the children herself. Allowing her to feel the charm which propels the park and why it is best suited for young Haley.
He made sure her dress had been just shy of the sill and door’s arch before easing it shut. No manner of tricks to conform his power over the vehicle, instead that particular act was gallantly ensured. However as he had made his way around the automobile’s anterior, the engine flared to life within a rumble oddly soothing upon her frame. What manner of warmth that would envelope their guest was notably not being produced by the factory vents, alternatively it became beneath Victoria amid subtlety. With every intention of keeping any exposed or sparingly covered limbs under warmer climate. For their temperatures were to vastly drop in the coming hours.
When he slipped into the driver’s seat, one hand smoothed over the steering wheel abstracting finesse as the opposite manually shut the pilot side door. Casting the mask aside into the seat, if not the only object providing distance between them in a cabin barely able to fit two. The familiar grin manifested across tiers once more, teeth imperiously accompanying and exposing their more feral nature. Rustic pools bore illuminative under that lingering triumph which he clung to, ecstatically pleased over, only glimpsing her over briefly before assigning his gaze to the lot and road.
“ Let us not tarry any longer and set out on our way if we are to get you home before curfew. ” A satisfaction coiled into the syllables concerning the ingenuity of the fairytale he purposely prodded at still, fused her currently with by culprit of the night they shared. Perhaps a whip that only he would find humor to. Hitching the Wraith one gear over and descending into the rear cradle as he pulled from the lot of diverse cars in reverse and just as rhythimically acclaimed her first and second gear forward out onto the road.
@victoriafreakingmcqueen
Her eyes flicked up to watch once Manx had closed her door and started to round the front of the car. If she was going to change her mind, this was the last chance. She could dart out and bolt for the house, disappear into the party. She doubted the man would risk making a scene in a crowd.
But as her hand edged towards the door handle, right when Charlie's was facing directly away from her, the Wraith roared to life on it's own. It surprised her enough that the moment she felt like running passed and Vic's hand fell back to her lap. Then warmth pressed into her limbs from the leather seats and the smells from inside the car bloomed more vibrant and tickled Vic's nose, the smell intensified when Charlie climbed into the cab and he nearly brushed shoulders with Vic.
She hadn't been prepared for how small the front of the Wraith was for two people, especially with one wearing a rather large ballgown.
When Charlie cast the wolf mask aside, it took a moment for Vic to tear her eyes away from it and dispel the urge to touch it as well. Like having two creatures in the car with her at once. Her enemy, Charlie Manx and the patient, intriguing stranger who'd swept her into a pleasant bubble for a brief moment.
"It's funny," she said in an uneven tone, trying to find some kind of footing while being in someone else's knife. "Figured you'd know exactly how long it'd take. If you'd done this kind a trip before with others."
She'd known Jolene had never seen Christamsland but who else had? It was a nudge, but also a way to dispel tension. He'd made it clear this wasn't as quick or straightforward as when Vic used her bridge. But he was also being wobbly about it.
Watching Willa's house disappear as they turned the corner, Vic pressed her fingers to the passenger side window. As if she could mentally send some plea for Willa to keep her disappearance a secret for as long as possible. And hopefully Vic would be back to repay that debt to her friend. Her fingers slid away from the glass when the lights were fully gone and the dark of the roadside took over.
"Always thought we weren't suppo' to touch another Strong Creative's knife," she murmured more to herself than Charlie, remembering what Maggie had taught her. Even though she'd helped Jolene use hers one last time.
@wraith-of-christmas-future
