johncarter9910

[incorrect-splatoon]

I KNOW WE ARE MONSTERS !

[clove-pinks]

Un cabinet chez Pétron by Paul Gavarni, 1839. A man and woman at a restaurant table in Gavarni's "Les Bals Masqués" series. There is a masquerade mask on the plate in front of the woman (not a whole octopus, which was my first thought).

There is a Parisian restaurant still in operation today that has frescos by Paul Gavarni on the walls: Au Rocher de Cancale. "It was very popular in the 19th century thanks to its suppers offered after theatre and opera shows," states the wiki article. I discovered it on a list of the 12 oldest restaurants in Paris, by Fodor's Travel.

Frescoes on the second-floor walls are painted by Paul Gavarni, Honoré de Balzac "immortalized the restaurant in his opus La Comédie Humaine"... and they now serve burgers, per Fodor's.

[flashbic]

Un machin pour aller avec le petit one-shot...

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Best Kept Secret on the Grid || Part Four

MV, CL, CS, LH, LN, PG, GR, FA, DR, OP x fem!reader Warnings: fluff and flirting (sorry there will be smut next time) Reader gets to go on a hunt of her own! WC: 3.1k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five Thank you to @kimi240302 for being inspired to make this collage, it’s perfect! 💕 and it inspired this fic!

It was strange that the elevator had arrived on your floor, and even stranger that it was empty. Your penthouse apartment took up the entire top floor of the building and required a keycard just to use the private elevator. Only Max had the spare keycard.

Sticking your head inside you found it wasn’t entirely empty. Tucked into the corner was a gift box tied off with a delicate silver bow, your name written on the tag hanging from it. You thought about calling Max first but it wasn’t unusual to receive gifts from him so you carried it inside and opened it.

Your jaw dropped at the beautiful ball gown neatly placed inside. Each crystal of the glittering bodice was individually sewn on with meticulous care and it must have cost a small fortune to make. There wasn’t even a label to give a clue as to who the designer was, but it was clearly custom made and you knew without even stepping into it that it would fit perfectly.

Lifting the train out, you found an equally stunning half mask along with a small blank card that you turned over. Hand written in an elegant script is said: Le Bal Masqué 2200. You looked at the time and saw there was just over an hour to get ready.

You had just settled the mask over your styled hair when there was a knock on your door and you slipped your heels on before answering. Expecting to see Max waiting, you were surprised to find a stranger holding a card with your name on it, silently handing it over before you could ask what was going on.

It’s your turn to find us tonight, M.

“Your car is downstairs, madame,” the messenger said as he held the elevator door open for you.

The excitement brought a smile to your face as you stepped inside, wondering just what he had planned for you. You obviously weren’t hunting them the same way they chased you on the island, the dress was far too nice to ruin.

You were occupied by your thoughts the entire drive through the streets of Monte Carlo until you arrived at a cliff side residence. The gates opened at the car’s approach and you could see the mansion was full of men wearing their finest suits. 

“Have a lovely evening, madame,” the chauffeur said as he opened the door for you. 

You thanked him as you stepped out, your entrance garnering plenty of envious stares from the women and looks of longing from men loitering on the steps. You had scanned what you could see of the men’s faces beneath the masks and determined why this was a hunt - three had the same blue eyes and dirty blonde hair as Max while two could have easily been Charles at first glance. 

Smiling to yourself, you climbed the stairs and entered the large foyer full of men who could all pass for yours. 

“Champagne?” You took the flute from the waiter’s tray and saw two rolls of stickers beside it. Noticing the curious lift of your brow above the diamante mask, the waiter tapped the first roll. “The green sticker is for when you believe you have found one of the drivers here this evening, there are only ten so choose wisely. If you believe you have found an imposter, place a red dot on their lapel and they will be escorted off the premises. You have until midnight. Happy hunting.”

You smirked over the rim of your champagne flute and grabbed the roll of red stickers first. Turning to survey the crowd, you chuckled as you whispered to yourself, “Oh Max, you’ve outdone yourself.”

“Enjoying your evening?”

You turned to the man with a thick Spanish accent and immediately knew he wasn’t your Nando, though the jawline beneath the mask followed the same curve and his short beard was shaped similarly. The voice was too deep and the eyes were more green than hazel to match Nando’s so you plucked a red dot from the reel and slapped it on his suit as you answered, “Extremely. Thank you for coming.”

His lips turned down and a large unmasked man stepped out of the shadows, already guiding him out of the residence. You were already making your way to the ballroom where the crowd swelled, dozens and dozens congregating on the dance floor where a band were playing new hit singles but in a classical way. Perhaps band wasn’t the right term, there were so many instruments it was practically an orchestra.

An arm curled around your waist as you swayed to the music and you tipped your head back to meet a pair of brown eyes so dark they were almost black. He didn’t speak as he pulled you closer and for the first time you weren’t certain if the man was an imposter or your Esteban.

“You’re not going to ask how my night is going?” you baited him, a quick smiling parting his lips as he shook his head. Pursing your lips, you weren’t ready to rule him out with a red sticker but you needed to hear his voice to decide if he was worth one of the precious ten green dots in your hand. “Then how about a drink instead?”

His smile grew as he took your hand in his and led you to one of the small bars dotted around the ballroom. Looking at the long fingers laced with yours, you saw a thin tan line on his index finger where a ring had spent a lot of time and you tried to remember if Esteban had one too. Charles, Pierre and Lando definitely did but the memory of Estie’s hand drew a blank - you knew his fingers from how they felt between your legs not by sight apparently.

“Two piña coladas, please,” you ordered as you watched what features you could around the mask but there was no sign of disgust. “One for the road,” you added as you placed a red sticker on his collar.

“How did you know?” the lookalike asked with an English accent.

“Pineapples.” You shrugged and took the cocktail that was placed in front of you. “He hates them.”

Half an hour later the crowd had thinned dramatically. The security team had been kept busy as you felt like the Oprah meme, slapping red dots on the imposters - you get one, and you get one. With a large portion of men gone you were able to focus better and there were two men in particular you had your eye on.

All it took was one laugh and you were peeling back the first green sticker, heading for the pair of dark haired men chatting in the library. Their backs were to you as they laughed at silly book titles and you announced your arrival with a kiss to the shadow of a beard before sticking the green dot to his forehead.

“You two together was always going to be a dead giveaway,” you teased as you stuck another sticker on Lando’s nose. “Only Carlos can make you laugh like that.”

“Don’t tell me we were first?” he whined as he saw the otherwise full strip of green dots. “How have you not found George?”

You trailed a finger over the perfect lines of his suit before tugging the bow tie around his neck. He swallowed at the smouldering look in your eyes and let you drag him closer by the throat until your lips brushed his ear. “Why don’t you help me?”

His lips parted to answer but Carlos pulled him away before he could impart the information he knew. Blocking you with his body, Carlos shook his head at your attempt to break the younger driver. “Rules are rules, hermosa, and you are running out of time.”

He jutted his chin at the grandfather clock and smirked as he ducked from your reach with a laugh when you tried to take back the green sticker. “Uh uh uh, I’m well and truly yours.”

“You’re lucky you’re handsome,” you warned as you left them to their game and continued your hunt. “Alright, George, Gerorge, George, where would you be…oh.”

You had wandered through the throngs of people inside the impressive mansion but you hadn’t explored the rest of the property. It was very easy to understand Lando’s complaint when you walked out the wide open doors to the infinity pool set on the cliff face.

“I’m not sure how I’m going to get this to stick to you,” you said as you held a green dot on your finger tip. George grinned beneath his mask as he looked up from the waters edge enjoying a warm dip in the pool. Water dripped from his hair and ran down his chest as he stood up, tracing a wet palm up your calf through the slit in the dress. He was the only one at the soirée who had taken his suit off and he had also decided to put his bow tie back on before hopping in the heated pool. “You look like a stripper.”

“A very expensive one I hope,” he teased. “You look hot, love, you should join me and cool off.”

“Wish I could,” you sighed, feeling a little like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, “but I’m running late and still have seven of you guys to chase down.”

George pulled himself out of the pool and grabbed a towel, a few drops of water catching on the crystal bodice as he shook his hair out. He dragged the towel down his body and you used the dry spot on the centre of his chest to plant a green dot on him. “Tagging my heart, love,” he chuckled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “You don’t need to chase us, we are waiting for you.”

He sent you a wink as he swiped up his suit and left you poolside, confused by what he meant. “You’ll figure it out, I know you will.”

Dawdling along the balcony, you chewed over his words before realisation struck. You found Lando and Carlos together and George in the water - places where they loved to be. It seemed so obvious once you thought it and you rushed inside to the ballroom. You hadn’t questioned why the orchestra was masked but when you spotted the dark head of hair at the grand piano it made sense.

“It’s my favourite Frenchman,” you whispered in his ear and the melody bounced over a miskey.

“Monegasque,” he corrected automatically, turning to see the amusement shimmering in your eyes. “Bonsoir, mi bella.”

“You might want to rest those fingers, Charles, wouldn’t want you to get a cramp later.”

He grinned at the remark and dragged them across the keys. “Don’t worry, I’m just warming up.”

“So am I.” You reached out and stuck the green dot to the index and middle finger on his right hand before kissing the dimple on his cheek. “Those are mine.”

You followed a waiter as he slipped from the room with an empty tray and found a set of stairs leading down a floor, into a busy kitchen. Your next target stood out among the white shirt chefs and you were once again amazed at how they had managed to find strangers with such a resemblance to your drivers.

“What’s cooking, good looking?”

Fernando turned with a spoonful of something that smelled delicious and your lips parted for him. A heavenly moan hummed from your chest as you tasted what he had been stirring on the stove. Nando smirked as his eyes followed the line of your lips before he leaned in and caught them with his, rolling his tongue across your bottom lip.

“You missed a bit,” he said as he wiped the spot of sauce with his thumb before licking it clean. You momentarily forgot what you were doing but he had his wits about him as he took a green sticker and placed it on his collar. “Now this is my colour.”

“Not red?” He shook his head as you flattened the dot to make sure it wouldn’t be lost in the 25 minutes you had left. “So the Ferrari rumours…?”

“Just rumours, querida, but I don’t think you have time to gossip.” He pointed the spoon to the clock above the head chef’s station. “There’s still a few spots left.”

“Vegan special,” the chef shouted as he hit the bell for service and a waiter arrived in an instant. “Deliver this to the home theatre.”

“One less now.” You grinned and pulled another sticker out. “See you at midnight.”

You followed the waiter into the quiet depths of the mansion until he reached a door and you took the plate from the tray. “I can take it from here, thanks.”

Lewis was so engrossed in the film he didn’t notice it was you in the room with him. It was only when he looked closer he saw the green dot stuck to the white china plate in your hands and looked up with a wide smile.

“I take gratuities in orgasms, just so you know,” you said with a laugh as he moved the plate and pulled you onto his lap instead.

“It’s your lucky night, baby,” he purred in your ear as his hand slipped up the slit in your dress. “I’ve been told I’m a heavy tipper.”

His fingers teased along the lace edge of your panties and you only just managed to clear your head before he could erase all your thoughts with his touch. “Rain check,” you groaned, not wanting to leave just yet but Fernando had given you an idea before the chef had set you onto Lewis’ path. “Where would you go if you wanted to hear the juiciest gossip?”

Lewis chewed his lip as he thought it over before deciding, “The bar, a few drinks definitely loosens lips.”

“Then that’s where I need to go.” You thanked him with a kiss before leaving the theatre and made your way back to the busiest room in the place. But, before you could leave the lower levels you heard a distinctive accent and skidded to a stop.

“When they said you guys came from a land down under, I didn’t think they meant the basement.” Daniel’s smile split his face as you stepped into the games room where he and Oscar were chalking their cue sticks.

“Thank god you’re here,” Oscar sighed gratefully and placed the cue down on the table, turning to face you with a smile. “I suck at playing pool.”

“Maybe that’s because it's billiards, not pool,” you pointed out as you stepped into the space between his legs.

“I don’t even know what that is,” he admitted, his hands running over the dresses bodice and down to rest on your ass. “You look gorgeous.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit.” You straightened the bow that had tilted at some point and draped your arms around his neck. “It suits you, handsome.”

His nose wrinkled and you giggled as he tugged at the tie, sending it off kilter again. “It feels like I’m being choked.”

“There’s some pleasure to be found in a bit of choking. Isn’t that right?” Daniel asked in your ear as he stepped up behind you, his fingers delicately circling your throat. He guided your head back to his shoulder and traced his nose over your racing pulse, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. “Hmm, maybe we can show him how good it can be.”

You could feel both of them coming to life as they sandwiched you between them, digging their erections into you. Your eyes fluttered shut at the temptation to drop to your knees and taste the Australian drivers, but you forced your eyes open and squirmed free of their intoxicating embrace.

“Soon, promise,” you panted as you slapped a sticker on Daniel’s ass and made Oscar whine needily when you placed one over his tented trousers, rubbing your palm over it to make sure the green dot was secured. “Very soon.”

The largest bar was set up in what you guessed was usually a dining hall and it spanned the length of the room. Leaning against the bartop was Pierre, his chin on his fist as he listened to the revellers unravelling their innermost thoughts aloud. He was engrossed in the tale, nodding encouragement when the woman’s cheeks turned scarlet red beneath her mask.

“And what did he do?” Pierre asked eagerly.

The woman covered her lips as she giggled before leaning in and whispering her confession. Pierre’s lips parted with a gasp, his eyebrows rising over the top of his mask as he stood upright. “Non!”

“Oui!”

Pierre spun around at the sound of your voice in his ear and he tore his mask from his face. “Ma chatte, look at you,” he said with a playful bit of his lip as you gave him a slow spin to show all of your curves glittering beneath the chandelier light. “Beautiful. And just in time too.”

You followed his gaze and saw there was only three minutes to midnight. “Shit,” you whispered as you grabbed the second to last sticker and pressed it to his chest. “Gotta run.”

Your calves burned as you climbed the stairs, spiralling higher and higher, racing the hands of the clock until you reached the top floor. The entire wall was made of glass and overlooked the dark water beyond the cliffs, but it wasn’t the panoramic vista that caught your eye.

His back was to you, the black silk tie of his mask flattening the back of his hair that would usually stick up in all directions, especially after combing your fingers through the strands. But it didn’t matter if you couldn’t see his face, you would recognise him anywhere.

His hands were crossed at the base of his spine, right one holding the left. It was how he stood whenever he was on the podium, how he stood when his anthem played. It was how he stood when he desperately wanted to be elsewhere but was forced to be patient.

You wrapped your arms around his narrow waist and found his eyes reflected in the glass. “Hi.”

The grandfather clocks throughout the mansion struck 12, the loud dongs echoing through the halls. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”

You smiled into his shoulder at the teasing in his voice. “I always knew where you would be.” Stepping around his body, he pulled you into the circle of his arms so you were both watching the horizon as fireworks began to light up the sky above the sea. “There was only one place my Max could possibly be…at the top.”

Click here for the next part.

[halfratsalready]

JD Dancer Appreciation Vol. 1: Elena Gambardella ✨

I’m starting a new little series of posts dedicated to some of the incredible dancers who bring our favorite coaches to life, and we’re kicking things off with the incomparable Elena Gambardella! Elena is one of my favorites- she exudes such an infectious joyous energy in all of her JD maps that make them all a delight to watch and to play! She’s beautiful and fierce, and I love how much she brings to every map she does.

Brezziana: Physical, Majesty, If You Wanna Party, Stronger (What Doesn’t Kill You), Swan Lake, Tainted Love, Survivor (Fitness Version)

Ann G. Lina: Magic, About Damn Time

Nest: Toy

Other maps: Le Bal Masqué, Nice For What, Só Depois do Carnaval

Choreographer: Survivor (Fitness Version)

[theroyalthornoliachronicles]

Manoir de Beauvais: 01 Juin 1850, 10:30

Marquis de Beauvais: What a surprise to see you here. I expected you to be far too busy with preparations for this evening.

Mademoiselle Violette: [Sighs] I'm not even sure I want to attend anymore.

Marquis de Beauvais: Now you're being absurd. Attending le bal masqué is all you've spoken about for weeks.

Mademoiselle Violette: Leave it be, Oscar.

Marquis de Beauvais: Not likely, Violette. What has suddenly turned your attentions away from something you you were so desperately looking forward to?

Mademoiselle Violette: My attendance tonight will only confirm what already suspect. That I am destined to become a spinster.

Marquis de Beauvais: Violette-

Mademoiselle Violette: I've hardly had a single caller since my debut into society...I hardly expect that to suddenly change after tonight.

Marquis de Beauvais: Hmm...and what of le Marquis de Clèrisseau?

Mademoiselle Violette: [Scoffs] He only comes to call because he feels guilty or running me over in the street.

Marquis de Beauvais: In my own experience, a mondamoiseau does not call upon a mademoiselle as often as he has simply to check in on her wellbeing.

Mademoiselle Violette: I know enough about le Marquis and his reputation to know him not to be serious.

Marquis de Beauvais: [Sighs] Be patient, ma soeur. You never know what the night may bring.

Previous | Beginning | Next

[aweirdoandhisfanfics]

Daily Pride pt. 26

For this episode, we won't be having canon guests, only headcanon!

Liege Rosal is gay!

Diego is gay, he's curently dating Rosal (credits to my friend Sasphyoz for the ship).

He's also 'Rock 'n Roll (Will Take You To The Mountain) ex-boyfriend (also credits to my friend).

Speaking of robots.

Alan (name headcanon) is bisexual, he once dated Diego, but now is dating Mrs. Saxobeat (credits to my friend Sasphyoz for the ship)

Lilith is transfem and Alano is transmasc

P2 of Le Bal Masqué is transfem

Shalf i genderqueer, and uses any pronouns.

Johnny Zomby is bigender

Valentine and Cameron are lesbians and dating

PandaFan, DeerStan and UnicornEnthusiast are a polycule (it started as a joke, but I ended up shipping them)

Moxie is lesbian and dated Ari in the past.

[karrova]

Le retour du bal masqué (The return from the masquerade ball)

Follower of Anne Vallayer-Coster

[random-brushstrokes]

Richard Ranft - Le bal masqué (1899)

[fdelopera]

Welcome to the 23rd installment of 15 Weeks of Phantom, where I post all 68 sections of Le Fantôme de l’Opéra, as they were first printed in Le Gaulois newspaper 115 yeas ago.

In today’s installment, we have Part II of Chapter 9, “Le mystérieux coupé” (“The Mysterious Carriage”), and Part I of Chapter 10, "Au bal masqué" ("At the Masked Ball").

This section was first printed on Thursday, 28 October, 1909.

For anyone following along in David Coward's translation of the First Edition of Phantom of the Opera (either in paperback, or Kindle, or from another vendor -- the ISBN-13 is: 978-0199694570), the text starts in Chapter 9 at Raoul's line, “'Has Christine kept herself pure?' he blurted, despite himself,” and goes to, "Raoul reread it feverishly" in Chapter 10.

Note, however, that the first part of this section in the Gaulois was cut in the First Edition. See below.

There are some differences between the Gaulois text and the First Edition. In this section, these include (highlighted in red above):

1) This section in the Gaulois (highlighted in red) was sadly cut from the First Edition.

Translation:

"Tell me at once, where is Christine?" he pleaded for the second time.

"Why, I don't know anything about that, my young monsieur. You must ask the spirit of music; he is the only one who knows. I haven't received any news from Christine since the evening when she didn't come home, and I confess that I am beginning to pine for her. When I saw you coming, I said to myself, 'Perhaps she has written to him!' But don't you worry, there's no need to be concerned."

Raoul was on the verge of insulting her, of calling her an old loon. He managed to control himself and he reasoned that in order to learn more, it would be more diplomatic to indulge her obsession. He sat down again and made his face appear almost calm, while inside a genuine rage was beginning to tear him apart.

"Come, come!..." he said. "She went off with the spirit! The spirit cannot have taken her to Heaven... You must know where the spirit resides on Earth. Do you have any clues? What sort of news did she send you on the evening when she didn't come back?"

Mme Valérius opened a small lacquered box that was close at hand and pulled out a letter from Christine, written on Christine's stationary. Raoul recognized it immediately, having seen similar paper in her dressing room. This letter had been delivered by a carrier that had not been seen again.

All that was on it were a few words scribbled in a trembling hand: "I am with him!... I live by his side ... above all, please don't worry about anything, Granny, if my absence is prolonged... He is watching over me. I love you with all my heart... Christine."

"And that's enough for you?" snarled Raoul, who could barely breathe. But once again, he managed to control himself before the enraptured and utterly inane countenance of Mama Valérius. Then he rose abruptly, straight as an arrow.

"Is Christine still a virtuous girl?"

2) Compare the Gaulois text:

Dans sa loge, à l'Opéra, monsieur Raoul ; ils sont plus tranquilles.

Translation:

“In her dressing room, at the Opéra, monsieur Raoul; they are more comfortable there."

To the First Edition:

Maintenant qu’elle est partie avec lui, je ne pourrais vous le dire, mais il y a quinze jours, cela se passait dans la loge de Christine.

Translation:

"Now that she has gone with him, I couldn't tell you, but a fortnight ago, they took place in Christine's dressing room."

3) Compare the Gaulois text:

Coûte que coûte, il voulait avoir une explication avec le génie de la musique !...

Translation:

No matter the cost, he wanted to have words with the spirit of music!...

To the First Edition:

Coûte que coûte, il voulait avoir une explication avec l’Ange de la musique !...

Translation:

No matter the cost, he wanted to have words with the Angel of Music!...

4) Chapter X was misprinted as Chapter XI. This numbering error was made in Chapter VII, and was not corrected, so it was propagated throughout the Gaulois publication.

5) Minor differences in punctuation, and capitalization, and italicization.

Click here to see the entire edition of Le Gaulois from 28 October, 1909. This link brings you to page 3 of the newspaper — Le Fantôme is at the bottom of the page in the feuilleton section. Click on the arrow buttons at the bottom of the screen to turn the pages of the newspaper, and click on the Zoom button at the bottom left to magnify the text.

[bal-masque-des-grands-chapeaux]

Soyez les bienvenus au Bal Masqué d'Octobre !

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

Invited or not, you have come to a grand venue fit only for the finest of balls. As you step through the open doors, the woman at the door with a glittering canary-yellow bird mask will announce your presence teasingly, and regardless of your rank or station, the sentiment remains the same.

"Presenting... a mysterious individual with a most intriguing mask!"

Overhead, candle lights glitter from chandeliers, illuminating a vast ballroom. The center is clear for dancing, while the tables on the side are full of food and refreshments. Everyone is wearing a mask, of course, at this masquerade ball.

There are three points of interest that you may examine if it pleases you;

a counter which appears to be an "open bar" serving alcohols and drinks

a table piled high with mysterious wrapped presents and gifts

a table with colourful papers and pumpkins on top of it, as well as a large hat that offers random creative prompts even to non-roleplayers

Or you may choose to simply just chat, mingle or dance at your leisure.

Whatever the case, we hope that you have a splendid time at this bal masqué!

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

Those who are part of the Assigned Partners Dance/La Danse des Partenaires Masqués will be notified of their dance and conversational partners separately.

We ask that you observe a few rules of OOC etiquette while you are here (and these rules will be reiterated in other posts);

The four general mingle threads are open for anyone to post in, whether you have a dance partner or not, but we ask that you do not post in the specific dancing threads that you are not a part of.

There is no word minimum or word limit on roleplay posts here. In the interests of encouraging interaction, we encourage you to go for conversational posts with less words, though we certainly will not be policing roleplay styles here.

Real life comes first, and we understand that some dance partners may not be able to respond as quickly as others. Please extend grace and courtesy to others. We'll be happy if you two can have a conversation within the next two to four weeks.

If your dance partner is incommunicado and you are itching for action, please do make use of our four general mingle threads. Perhaps you may find another dance partner there, or perhaps you may even ask one of the hosts or their staff to a dance.

Please note that in-character, your character will be aware that this is a social high-class event with expectations of decorum and etiquette. Your character is allowed to be rude and boorish, but we ask that you stay away from excessively dramatic and loud disruptions, as the focus of the event should be on conversation and interpersonal relationships.

This is also slightly outside of the collaborative timeline of my characters at least, so some characters may be present despite their status in the narrative.

Thank you, and let us have a good time!

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

[randomoranges]

When will le bal masqué return from the war :(

[equipe]

Défi artistique : Déguis3ments maUdits

Oyez, oyez, apparitions spectrales et autres amig-os !

Cette année, nous sortons de notre chapeau magique de grandes figures classiques pour vous proposer un petit défi artistique en cette saison du frisson. Place aux présentations : voici Hewie le fantômblr et Bones le squelette (violet). Mais… vous pouvez les appeler comme vous le souhaitez !

Pour ce défi, commencez par choisir le personnage vous plaît le plus ou donnez libre cours à votre imagination pour créer celui de votre choix. C'est VOUS qui décidez, vous savez.

Dans la suite de ce billet, nous allons vous proposer des thèmes pour faire parler vos méninges, vos sens, vos émotions. Bref, votre âme d'artiste ! Voilà le défi : réalisez un croquis de votre personnage ou imaginez sa fiche descriptive en lui faisant revêtir un "Déguis3ment maUdit" correspondant à la thématique du jour.

Le défi se déroulera durant la dernière semaine d'octobre (du lundi 23 au vendredi 27), avec, pour chaque jour, sa thématique :

Lundi 23 : un vilain pour les gouverner tous

Mardi 24 : votre Barbie ou Ken préféré⸱e (ou simplement Allan)

Mercredi 25 : attention, pirates !

Jeudi 26 : en costume de tournée

Vendredi 27 : le métamorphe dans tous ses états

Publiez vos billets en utilisant le tag #cursed costumes (en anglais) et en l'accompagnant bien entendu des tags de votre choix. Vous aurez peut-être une chance de figurer dans notre onglet du tableau de bord dédié à la parade des déguis3ments maUdits d'Halloween, voire d'être sélectionné dans le fameux billet "Tumblr Tuesday" qui sera publié le 31 octobre par le @staff. Et n'oubliez pas de configurer vos options de contrôle des reblogs si vous préférez que vos petits personnages brillent sur les Internets !

Maintenant, c'est à vous de jouer ! Nous avons hâte de découvrir les fripes flamboyantes, effrayantes et amusantes avec lesquelles vous oserez déguiser vos monstrueusement adorables personnages. Que le bal (masqué) d'Halloween 2023 commence !

[toutcommenceparunbaiser]

J'ai eu honte de moi-même, le jour où j'ai découvert que la vie est un bal masqué, auquel j'ai assisté à visage découvert.

_Franz Kafka

[theroyalthornoliachronicles]

Anticipation Peaks as Thornolian Royal Family Prepares for le Bal Masqué

Excitement and anticipation pervade the air as all of Thornolia eagerly awaits le grand masqurade hosted by the esteemed Famille Royale Thornolienne. Tonight, in a spectacle of splendor and tradition, le Monseigneur is poised to announce his engagement and reveal his chosen bride, a momentous occasion that has captivated the hearts and minds of all.

La Famille Royale, having returned to the resplendent Palais de Thornolie in the early hours from their brief sojourn at the tranquil Manoir de Thornwood, is now engrossed in preparations. The once serene corridors and stately chambers of le Palais have transformed into a hive of activity, with servants and attendants bustling about, ensuring every detail is perfected for the evening’s festivities.

Nobility from near and far are expected to grace le Palais with their presence later this evening, donning their finest attire and most elaborate masks, contributing to an atmosphere of mystique and grandeur. Le Bal Masqué promises an enchanting night of dance, music, and revelry, but it is le Monseigneur’s announcement that truly holds the country in thrall.

Speculation runs rampant throughout Thornolia as whispers of potential brides circulate amongst the populace. Will le Monseigneur select Mademoiselle Aubert, the one many have been keen to see stand by his side? Or Mademoiselle Valery, the quiet contender that grabbed our Monseigneur's attentions from the very beginning? The country is abuzz with these questions, each citizen holding their breath, hoping for a choice that will bring prosperity and happiness to their beloved Thornolia.

The gravity of this decision is not lost on le Monseigneur, whose contemplative demeanor in recent days has been the subject of much discussion. The choice of a future Madame la Reine carries with it not only personal significance but also profound implications for the future of Thornolia.

In a move we are certain will become a much loved tradition for generations to come, le Monseigneur and his chosen fiancée will not confine the announcement to the hallowed halls of le Palais alone. Following the grand reveal within the opulent ballroom, the couple will step onto the royal balcony to present themselves to the gathered throngs, ensuring that every citizen, from the highest noble to the humblest commoner, shares in this historic moment.

As the day unfolds, the streets of Thornolia buzz with eager anticipation. The vibrant marketplace hums with speculation, and children play games of imagined royal courtships, while their elders reminisce about past royal announcements and what tonight's might bring. All await the dusk, when le Palais de Thornolie will illuminate the night sky, signaling the commencement of le Bal Masqué and the revelation of the country's future queen.

This evening promises to be one of unparalleled grandeur and significance. As the bells toll and the hour of le Bal Masqué approaches, all of Thornolia stands united in hope and curiosity, ready to embrace their future Madame la Reine.

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