[Callisto Tengoku]

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[attr="class","iwbtr-ly-1"]was i born to be

[attr="class","iwbtr-ly-2"]more?

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A glass clinked against a table, clacking with the swirling ice inside of it.

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"Look, Tensei, buddy, I'm an amateur at best."

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Callisto sat along his apartment's window side, seated in an adjacent chair and table, with the orange, afternoon sun drenching him in its warmth. The orangish light left them swimming in its glow, with the light bouncing through the man's swirling drink. Through the glass door, he could see, just peaking over the balcony ledge, the sun was lazily drifting towards the horizon.

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"And even if I wasn't–" he'd thumb the rim of his glass, pressing just a bit too hard– "I dunno how to act like some flimsy socialite, let alone put up with a whole party of them. Why can't you get someone like... I dunno, Terumi? Someone like him, or maybe even Kensui, could probably do it."

[break][break]

"Look," came the voice over the phone, rough like gravel and just as coarse, "if it ain't your thing, fine, I get it. But," a pause, as well as a slow drag of a crackling sound, gave way to an airy sigh. "Legitimate art, real, lost pieces, fetch a pretty penny."

[break][break]

"Yeah, and? If it's that big a deal, why have me do it? Last I checked, I run in lower rings, not in some big league scheme."

[break][break]

Another clink of ice against the glass and a buzz against static.

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"Simple; the idiot himself doesn't know if it's real or not." A chuckle came across the speaker. "Mister Gorosky, even for all his charm, knows his bullshit the moment he spews it. But, on the rare occasion, he stumbles into the possession of something that keeps him going — something that lets him continue spewing shit. Now, this time around, he doesn't even know if he's selling an authentic piece."

[break][break]

"Potentially authentic, yeah."

[break][break]

"He thinks it's a fake. And frankly, it may very well be so; I won't deny the odds. But, if there was any chance to snatch up a real piece, to take it when the guard is low, I figured you'd like the opportunity to work upwards."

[break][break]

Callisto leaned back in his seat, pressing his shoulder blades against the crest rail and groaning as he did. He paused for a moment of silence, refusing even a groan or a sigh as he stretched, as Tensei sat on his end, puffing smoke.

[break][break]

"If you're gonna have me work up," his voice came, a tinge of a sigh planted in his words, "you'll be paying me my real score for it."

[break][break]

Tensei made a gravelly laugh before the line cut out.

[break][break]

Reaching both of his hands up — releasing his grasp from his cup as he did — Callisto rubbed his hands along either side of the bridge of his nose, cupping them around it with a guttural, groaning sound. He looked up at the ceiling as he did, eyeing the little shadows that danced along the surface in contrast to the rest of the light he was bathed in.

[break][break]

"Mamma?" His Japanese faded from his words, losing their edge as a looser tongue, one more familiar to the Venetian, carried over to the living room couch. "I still have that suit, right?"

[break][break]

From her spot, a harsh, airy laugh came, swirling with the speaker's raven hair, as she matched his words. "I don't keep tabs on your clothes; you forget how to wash them yourself?"

[break][break]

Sat alone with a baby panda in her lap, laid back and dressed lazily, Haru Tengoku kept her eyes focused on the living room screen. The panda, Cal's infamous little stowaway, lightly snored as she absently rubbed circles into its back. On the screen, there seemed to be some sort of drama playing on, with the lone couch viewer watching intently.

[break][break]

Callisto slipped out from his seat, drinking down the last of his glass and setting it near the sink behind the living area.

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"I have it, then?"

[break][break]

"I think it's in the back of your closet, next to that rack on the far wall."

[break][break]

"The jacket one?"

[break][break]

"The jacket one."

[break][break]

---

[break][break]

Laoro stepped along the carefully curated stone course, made of jagged pieces forced to fit into a flat path up towards the estate ahead, with which all the lights in the decadence turned out. Turning his arm and tugging at his sleeve, his watch showed the time: ten past eight. Half of the draw came in the initial darkness set between now and ten o'clock, a game, a gimmick to the night's extended novelty.

[break][break]

The criminal adjusted the Colombina mask rested across his face, sneaking it through his long, slicked-back hair, leaving only a few bangs to playfully hang down his forehead. The glitter in it, that same color as the tide and the beach, flickered to life as, ahead of the man and the many walking down the path, light burned to life. Lanterns set along the path, encased in any number of colors — vibrant greens, dim purples, blazing reds — set alight as they stepped along, and from the house, through the glass fronts, it burned the brightest. A party set for only two hours — in the hours when electricity should be cut — burning only with the light made from fire.

[break][break]

"Name or reference?"

[break][break]

As Laoro stepped up to the door — the place where the least amount of light fell on them — a larger man stood beside the entrance, his hands tucked behind his back and his face stowed beneath a Bauta Barocco.

[break][break]

"Tensei. Oshima Tensei."

[break][break]

With a solemn nod, the man opened the door, ushering Laoro alone in through. Anonymity was the game — whether "Oshima Tensei" was him or his reference, it didn't matter; the name was known, and if the name was known, the game could be played. And so, as he stepped through the main manor, he quickly found himself entering the ballroom, the place to be remiss before the game even began. Men and women chatted, swinging through sleuths as deft, quiet strings played through the halls. All of them wore masks of some form, and some of those were better at keeping the secrets — but in the end, when anyone made eyes with anyone else, they could see the same ideas glowing in the back of their eyes.

[break][break]

Laoro would have to stomach it.

[break][break][break][break][break]

Negative

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King of Hearts

[attr="class","iwbtr-credit"]SELKIE

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[King of Hearts]

❝

真白な万華鏡　じりじりと　愛しくなる気がして　

With every thread he'd lift and tug to see if it would guide him anywhere closer to solving what happened to his brother's not boyfriend, Murano...it felt lighter and lighter. The end frayed and leading to nothing at all...but he was going to keep trying for his brother's sake...and maybe a bit of his own since Murano seemed like a worthwhile existence. Hell, he even helped him get a name of his own...the final piece to a find an identity of your own starter kit, so to speak.

Initially, he was a tool to solve problems that required spilling a bit of blood...but he became something more.

He was his own person...

...and his brother, Beaumont was surprisingly happy for him and his newfound sense of humanity.

As if the shackles fell off and he had an existence developing outside of the objective find Murano or get a semblance of closure. Although this was directly linked to such a task....he figured that it was going to be a different spin on fun than his last outing. Getting to mingle and interact with others knowing he wouldn't have to murder the masses felt like a little break...though he'd recall his brother not really enjoying this sort of crowd.

``...they could probably tell you the exact smell of their own farts, Yoshimitsu.``

Beaumont wasn't always one to have much humor, but he couldn't help but be amused at that exchange they held once upon a time. After all, his brother would nudge him when he had control of the body and could barely stomach the people in their wake...he remembered wondering back then if they really had such a bad case of head up my own ass syndrome. Tonight, he'd find out for himself...as himself. Although he sincerely doubted he'd encounter anyone worthwhile in the long run....he could be wrong.

There was a good chance he could finally get a lead on Murano, perhaps even scout out someone who would make for a good investor regarding the Dreamland Resort chains as a whole? There's no way of finding out until exploring every moment, something he knew all too well. Such as the moments that took place all that time ago with the impromptu raid, there were moments he'd find his thoughts lingering on before moving forward to the present.

Such as how he picked out his attire with care and even went with a peacock mask that had a silver base to contrast his shadowy features, accented by gold and vibrant blue designs. A prominence of green in the choice of feathers so that he wouldn't be lost in azure hues, but rather accent the choice of vines rather than a simple boa draping his arms. "Your invitation...?"

Reaching up to his chest as he dipped his claws within the plume accenting his neckline, he pulled out a nice wad of yen notes and simply dropped it into the doorman's hand with a bemused grin, "There you go~" With that being good enough, he dismissively waved his hand like a beauty pageant queen and proceeded onward...

For a moment, he was lost within the array of colors merely accenting the atmosphere...he drifted through the crowd at about eight feet tall. Honestly, he figured drawing some attention to himself would probably work out nicely in his favor...worked wonders last time, if he recalled the last eventful evening correctly. Mingling about the crowd, it felt like a beautifully boring sea when it came to the substance of his peers, but he plucked up a cute little h'orderve skewered by a fancy little toothpick.

The two skulls in the extra fluffy, vibrantly blue plume squinted at it for a moment before remembering they had to help Yoshimitsu spot either the Murano they were looking for...or someone they could interrogate for information. His own eyes dancing throughout the crowd...elegantly munching upon the slice of foie gras that played a primary role in the skewered h'orderve. Disposing of the toothpick, he lingered about a crowd discussing their ridiculous lavish life styles and...

...oh god, Beaumont was right.

A bemused chuckle escaped him over the sheer absurdity of his newly found peers who went out of their way to purchase paintings that were probably nothing more than high quality bootlegs. At least it blended in well enough since the others where chuckling along because they firmly saw themselves as above the lower class. Perhaps he should....drift in another direction soon...even though they were enamored by his extravagant presence and made him feel welcome in their cluster like some sort of art piece. It helped him blend in...so it was fine and he supposed he could tolerate it since their attitudes were laughably absurd.

✎ Callisto Tengoku
✉ ammo: 24\24
※ notes: Where the interesting people at? P.S: DRIP!

MADE BY MIZO

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[Callisto Tengoku]

[newclass=.iwbtr-contain]--iwbtr-accent:#132742; --iwbtr-img:url("https://i.imgur.com/7AUMJPa.png");[/newclass]



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[attr="class","iwbtr-contain"]

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[attr="class","iwbtr-ly-1"]was i born to be

[attr="class","iwbtr-ly-2"]more?

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"Oh, did you see Lady Devally?" A shrill, piercing voice in his ear. As he continued his stalking, clinging to the space between people and keeping his eyes averted from meeting anyone else's, their pompous, snobbish tones beat against his eardrums.

[break][break]

"But did you see Buno? I heard he opened a new branch in Europe — did you hear him say where?" This time, a well-framed, cleanly-shaven man with a poor excuse for a mask howled. "I heard him say Italy! How is this time of year?"

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His nose twitched.

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"Oh," chittered another, "I heard it's divine in the summer! Especially Venice — a hub of culture, truly inspiring!"

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He almost clicked his tongue.

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"I must go sometime," another, haughty and airy, breathed. "I'm sure it'd make a lovely vacation!"

[break][break]

Laoro moved away from the group, but no matter where he walked to or where he left his ears, it was the same thing. Rearranged, maybe packaged differently, but shaped the same. Compliments, one-ups, and polite laughter. It was a different kind of buzzing than what he was used to. It wasn't that quiet, controlled that churned from inside his chest and out through his blood; like a constant dripping. Right in the center of the ear. Where he laid on his side, the cold water would trickle down the canal of his ear into his skull. It came in that continuous drip, drip, dripping from an unwaveringly black cloud around him.

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He didn't feel like eating, let alone like drinking. As he stepped through the blackened spaces, askewly lit by the infinite array of hueful rainbows, he tucked a pair of hair behind his ear. He held a breath for the moment. He'd have preferred to pin his hair in his usual style, but any more chances to stick out were ones to be avoided; even his hue of blue, vibrant as it could be even in the swath of untamed colors, could be forgotten, but that shape may remained his own, and to that he wouldn't obsess for it now.

[break][break]

But as he further stepped through the estate, making note of the few men tailored to stay in their posts, Laoro's eyes flicked through the crowd. In no less than a moment — if even that, given the sight — Laoro's eyes caught that same sparkling sight they saw just a few nights before; that same glittering figure, the King of Hearts himself.

[break][break]

Wait, why was he here? As Laoro unwittingly froze a distance away from Hearts, he squinted through his mask. Even with the mask he wore — one that, with a thought, made him grin on the inside — he couldn't mistake that for anyone else, and he couldn't imagine someone else would so happen to look like the villain, but why would he be here? What did he have to do with this event, and what were the chances that this was related to his own objective?

[break][break]

Laoro walked slowly. He followed the flow of the room, moving through it, but unmistably, he kept his eyes on the king. Though he occasionally shifted his eyes away, as if he had some other focus, they would keep returning to Hearts, moving closer towards his sightline.

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Negative Charge

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King of Hearts

[attr="class","iwbtr-credit"]SELKIE

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[King of Hearts]

❝

真白な万華鏡　じりじりと　愛しくなる気がして　

Thank the gods that these people around him were so enraptured by themselves that they didn't realize he was laughing at them rather than with them! With an air of elegance, he moved his gloved hand up to gently cup his cheek whilst quelling his own fit of bemused laughter. Perhaps he should be immensely grateful that his introduction to the word was delayed as it was, ejected from an uptight society and left to figure it all out with their uncle...their parents would get theirs soon enough. All of their accomplishments would loom over those twits sooner or later, it would just take time. They already took claim over tending to Olivia and her schooling finances...making her the very first to acquire a Dreamland Resort scholarship of sorts.

Smiling thoughtfully at the gears clicking away at how he could help their little sister climb further up the ladder of success...the skulls noticed a familiar figure approaching them. One that all three didn't think they'd see again...both nudging their brother with vibrant lime eyes as the subtle slit of his pupils followed the motion of their direction.

Oh...

The grin creeping across his lips grew wide as he found a way out from these boring bastards and offered them a departing bow, pivoting upon those absolutely unnecessary high heels as he began strutting towards the all too familiar man with electric blue locks. Although there were clear adjustments in the style of his hair and wardrobe...it was difficult to forget those he left alive with a mental locket of worthwhile memories, they didn't come a dime a dozen...no no, they were quite the rarity. Reaching up towards his hat, his fingers danced about, carefully feeling the petals before plucking the vibrant, blue rose out from its place.

Those steps slowing to a halt before the one who was...for one night, the other half of a Circus Duo. There was a good chance the other hadn't thought they'd see one another again since it wasn't like he had any sort of name to associate him by. That meant, of course...to bestow some sort of name upon him, "Ah...Astraîos, it seems the very stars aligned tonight~! I hope you and your little one have been in good health~" Bowing ever so slightly, he then held out the glimmering rose that closely matched his own locks, offering it to him as he tilted his head upward as his words were smoothly spoken, "...care to accompany me once more during this lovely evening~?" Polishing those words with a wink...the other two skulls at each side attempted to follow suit, but they ended up looking like they forgot how blinking works for a moment.

Certainly there was no guarantee that they'd exchange contact information tonight....but at least he could be with someone truly interesting.

✎ tags Callisto Tengoku
✉ ammo: 24\24
※ notes: why hello hello wink wonk wink

MADE BY MIZO

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