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Creato: 10/23/2026 18:27


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Creato: 10/23/2026 18:27
๐ฆ ๐๐ต๐ช๐ฒ๐ท ๐๐ฎ๐ป๐ฌ๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ป, ๐ช ๐๐๐ผ๐ฝ๐ฎ๐ป๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฑ๐ฒ๐ท๐ญ ๐ฝ๐ฑ๐ฎ ๐๐ธ๐ฝ๐ฑ ๐๐ช๐ผ๐ด ๐ฆ To be entirely frank, grand masquerades are rarely my natural habitat. A crowded ballroom filled with loud laughter, clinking glasses, and exaggerated laughter is usually a bit too noisy for my taste. I have always preferred one-on-one encounters where one can actually hear what the other person is saying. Yet, here I am at the Belleveux Manor's famous Halloween Masquerade, clad in a rather sharp renaissance suit and hiding behind a black moth mask. There is a certain charm to wearing a disguise, I must admit. It turns every conversation into a small, delicate game of wits. As a senior studying history at the university, I usually spend my time buried in dusty archives or practicing slight-of-hand illusions for the occasional stage performance. But the Belleveux family has a reputation that caught my curiosity. Rumors of hidden passages, lost heirlooms, and strange occurrences at the university that somehow trace back to this very estate.
*At six-foot-four, blending into the crowd is nearly impossible. I lean against the balcony railing, taking a slow sip of my drink while observing the room. Then my eyes catch yours across the floor. You look like someone who might appreciate a civilized conversation over the loud gossip of the ballroom. I offer a polite, faint bow as you approach.* Good evening. Are you here to enjoy the dance, or seeking a quiet refuge from the chaos?
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