'Remember, you only get one chance to do this right or else he'll think you've drunk too much,' Cecilia snickered in his mind. He felt her words wriggle and dance on the surface of his thoughts like a lively maggot.
'Get out of my head, Cecilia.'
'But I want to watch~ And who knows, maybe having Cecilia, coquette extraordinaire, in your mind might help you get close enough to the witch's kid.'
Jean swallowed back a wave of dizziness - Cecilia hijacking his stream of concious made it hard to think properly when she was so loud in his head. Still, he gave up protesting.
'If you want you're diary back, he needs to like you Jean. I never knew you were a heretic, and I'll let you in on a secret - so am I,' and he could feel her sneer taste like the salty caramel she was eating across the ballroom, 'But you don't see me leaving around evidence of it~ You're lucky I was the one who found your little book because I like fatter fish.' It's true that he wasn't much of a catch in the Great Game. His older sister was the heir, he was still a teenager, and the most scandelous thing he did was read. Several years back, he'd thought Cecilia had been his friend until she engineered his costume to fall to pieces at the pull of a single lose thread, and he became the laugh for the night while everyone congratulated his sister. At least no one had tried to top that embarressment - until now. Cecilia had found his writing notes. He'd been working on a story of his own...
'I blushed when I read the part with the chantry mage, Jean,' she mewled in his mind, and Jean squirmed under the sticky heat of his cheeks against the sun-gold mask. He would get Cecilia back for this if he ever could. He pressed his mask nervously, feeling bare again in his white and gold princely attire. 'It's ok to hate me Jean, I probably deserve it, but you'll never touch me. Anyway,...' While Cecilia whispered to him what to say to Kieran, noblility, musicians, and waitstaff glanced at him, most likely, wondering why he wasn't entertaining any conversation. Tonight was his sister's birthday party, and The Great Game was in full swing. Musicians played, dukes and lords lounged with their artists, and dancers swirled to the music.
Jean had never spoken to Kieran before in any way past polite ritual - they were both boys of similar age who frequented the palace - but Kieran intimidated Jean. He was Morrigan's son if that could say it. The other teen had an edge in how he looked around a room if who his mother was wasn't enough. Jean always felt like looking at Kieran was like looking at a wild animal off its leash.
In several minutes, Jean found Kieran. A beautiful woman was beside him speaking enthusiastically.
'Tell Gianna to fuck off,' Ceci growled.
Resigned, Jean approached, standing stiffly, grateful that half of his red face was covered by his mask.
[color=orange]"Fuck off, Gianna,"[/color] he said, the words feeling wrong to the boy who rarely swore. Gianna looked at him surprised. She smiled innocently, and then scurried away.
Following Cecilia's internal commands, Jean cringed with shame as he took her place and leaned his shoulder into Kieran's. Nervousness shuddered through Jean at the touch, as he fought back the urge to stare only for Cecilia to to tell him to stare.
After a strangled pause, he choked out, [color=orange]"Don't you love The Game? [/color]
With a delayed, very half-hearted, extremely anxious smile.
'Get out of my head, Cecilia.'
'But I want to watch~ And who knows, maybe having Cecilia, coquette extraordinaire, in your mind might help you get close enough to the witch's kid.'
Jean swallowed back a wave of dizziness - Cecilia hijacking his stream of concious made it hard to think properly when she was so loud in his head. Still, he gave up protesting.
'If you want you're diary back, he needs to like you Jean. I never knew you were a heretic, and I'll let you in on a secret - so am I,' and he could feel her sneer taste like the salty caramel she was eating across the ballroom, 'But you don't see me leaving around evidence of it~ You're lucky I was the one who found your little book because I like fatter fish.' It's true that he wasn't much of a catch in the Great Game. His older sister was the heir, he was still a teenager, and the most scandelous thing he did was read. Several years back, he'd thought Cecilia had been his friend until she engineered his costume to fall to pieces at the pull of a single lose thread, and he became the laugh for the night while everyone congratulated his sister. At least no one had tried to top that embarressment - until now. Cecilia had found his writing notes. He'd been working on a story of his own...
'I blushed when I read the part with the chantry mage, Jean,' she mewled in his mind, and Jean squirmed under the sticky heat of his cheeks against the sun-gold mask. He would get Cecilia back for this if he ever could. He pressed his mask nervously, feeling bare again in his white and gold princely attire. 'It's ok to hate me Jean, I probably deserve it, but you'll never touch me. Anyway,...' While Cecilia whispered to him what to say to Kieran, noblility, musicians, and waitstaff glanced at him, most likely, wondering why he wasn't entertaining any conversation. Tonight was his sister's birthday party, and The Great Game was in full swing. Musicians played, dukes and lords lounged with their artists, and dancers swirled to the music.
Jean had never spoken to Kieran before in any way past polite ritual - they were both boys of similar age who frequented the palace - but Kieran intimidated Jean. He was Morrigan's son if that could say it. The other teen had an edge in how he looked around a room if who his mother was wasn't enough. Jean always felt like looking at Kieran was like looking at a wild animal off its leash.
In several minutes, Jean found Kieran. A beautiful woman was beside him speaking enthusiastically.
'Tell Gianna to fuck off,' Ceci growled.
Resigned, Jean approached, standing stiffly, grateful that half of his red face was covered by his mask.
[color=orange]"Fuck off, Gianna,"[/color] he said, the words feeling wrong to the boy who rarely swore. Gianna looked at him surprised. She smiled innocently, and then scurried away.
Following Cecilia's internal commands, Jean cringed with shame as he took her place and leaned his shoulder into Kieran's. Nervousness shuddered through Jean at the touch, as he fought back the urge to stare only for Cecilia to to tell him to stare.
After a strangled pause, he choked out, [color=orange]"Don't you love The Game? [/color]
With a delayed, very half-hearted, extremely anxious smile.
11-11-2023, 09:28 AM
