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Upper-crust society in Manhattan had never been the easiest of places to navigate. What with the nuances in language, the play of words behind backs, and all things that required more then just science to understand, it is no wonder that friends were few and far in between.
But Veronike was determined to change that - at the very least, she wanted to have some fun.
Brought up as the youngest daughter of an eccentric billionaire, her two eldest siblings had taken over the running of the Mad Hatter Clubs... which leaves her, young twenty year old as she is, to do as she wanted with her life. And left with such freedom to a girl her age was a dangerous matter indeed. Does it matter then, that the 'friends' she had made were... questionable?
She had planned a tea party for the day, intent on enjoying the beautiful summer before the weathers changed again. It was scheduled to begin soon, with her invitations having been sent out weeks before, and her servants were bustling around her, assisting her in putting on her attire - outrageous for some, but really quite regular for the eccentric youngest daughter of Vasilios Acarisk, owner of the Mad Hatter gaming and gambling clubs.
The dress she had specially had her personal tailor made was elaborate, a bottom layer of white that accentuated the ruby red silk of the corset and dress. Asymmetrical in length, the short part of the dress in front highlighted her long slender legs, muscular from the years she spent in gymnastics. It flowed to the back like a river of blood and silk, body hugging around her slim waist, before the collar flared out, making her look utterly like royalty - perfect for the character she had in mind, the Queen of Hearts.
The red locks she had were vibrant under the light, having been dyed just the day before and retaining the brilliant hue of vermilion red she had chosen. Slipping her white stockinged feet into a pair of red suede pumps, the female grinned at teh image she portrayed in the mirror, even as her servants came up to inform her that the gardens of the Acarisk Mansions had been duly set up for her party.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Upper-crust society in Manhattan had never been the easiest of places to navigate. What with the nuances in language, the play of words behind backs, and all things that required more then just science to understand, it is no wonder that friends were few and far in between.
But Veronike was determined to change that - at the very least, she wanted to have some fun.
Brought up as the youngest daughter of an eccentric billionaire, her two eldest siblings had taken over the running of the Mad Hatter Clubs... which leaves her, young twenty year old as she is, to do as she wanted with her life. And left with such freedom to a girl her age was a dangerous matter indeed. Does it matter then, that the 'friends' she had made were... questionable?
She had planned a tea party for the day, intent on enjoying the beautiful summer before the weathers changed again. It was scheduled to begin soon, with her invitations having been sent out weeks before, and her servants were bustling around her, assisting her in putting on her attire - outrageous for some, but really quite regular for the eccentric youngest daughter of Vasilios Acarisk, owner of the Mad Hatter gaming and gambling clubs.
The dress she had specially had her personal tailor made was elaborate, a bottom layer of white that accentuated the ruby red silk of the corset and dress. Asymmetrical in length, the short part of the dress in front highlighted her long slender legs, muscular from the years she spent in gymnastics. It flowed to the back like a river of blood and silk, body hugging around her slim waist, before the collar flared out, making her look utterly like royalty - perfect for the character she had in mind, the Queen of Hearts.
The red locks she had were vibrant under the light, having been dyed just the day before and retaining the brilliant hue of vermilion red she had chosen. Slipping her white stockinged feet into a pair of red suede pumps, the female grinned at teh image she portrayed in the mirror, even as her servants came up to inform her that the gardens of the Acarisk Mansions had been duly set up for her party.
Upper-crust society in Manhattan had never been the easiest of places to navigate. What with the nuances in language, the play of words behind backs, and all things that required more then just science to understand, it is no wonder that friends were few and far in between.
But Veronike was determined to change that - at the very least, she wanted to have some fun.
Brought up as the youngest daughter of an eccentric billionaire, her two eldest siblings had taken over the running of the Mad Hatter Clubs... which leaves her, young twenty year old as she is, to do as she wanted with her life. And left with such freedom to a girl her age was a dangerous matter indeed. Does it matter then, that the 'friends' she had made were... questionable?
She had planned a tea party for the day, intent on enjoying the beautiful summer before the weathers changed again. It was scheduled to begin soon, with her invitations having been sent out weeks before, and her servants were bustling around her, assisting her in putting on her attire - outrageous for some, but really quite regular for the eccentric youngest daughter of Vasilios Acarisk, owner of the Mad Hatter gaming and gambling clubs.
The dress she had specially had her personal tailor made was elaborate, a bottom layer of white that accentuated the ruby red silk of the corset and dress. Asymmetrical in length, the short part of the dress in front highlighted her long slender legs, muscular from the years she spent in gymnastics. It flowed to the back like a river of blood and silk, body hugging around her slim waist, before the collar flared out, making her look utterly like royalty - perfect for the character she had in mind, the Queen of Hearts.
The red locks she had were vibrant under the light, having been dyed just the day before and retaining the brilliant hue of vermilion red she had chosen. Slipping her white stockinged feet into a pair of red suede pumps, the female grinned at teh image she portrayed in the mirror, even as her servants came up to inform her that the gardens of the Acarisk Mansions had been duly set up for her party.
Aaah the upper crust. The high stakes. The big wigs. The creme de la creme and cream of the crop of New York society. What a wonderful hypocrisy they all were.
Considering themselves better than all the others, thinking to themselves that their high birth and their stacks of money and gold would keep them secure and safe.
Vangelis knew better...
Oh ho ho, did he know better...
The eldest son of a military commander in the army of the good ol' US of A, Vangelis had, in his younger more swathy years gone from soldier to officer to marine and had trained harder than anyone he had ever known... a little too hard has doctors now said but hey! here he was now, loving life, so what was there to be so concerned with?
So, he'd had a little "tumble". So, he may have caused a bit of a scene. But in the end no-one died. No-one was hurt. At least not permanently. The worst part of the whole ordeal had been the months he had spent in a psychiatric ward, being treated for severe PTSD. Vangelis liked the outdoors. The walls had been boring and the nurses not pretty.
Until he had discovered Rabbit.
Rabbit was actually called Miles. But Miles wanted to be Rabbit. And Harry. And Lewis. And occasionally Cecilia.
And the pills he had taken to squash Rabbit and all his friends down into the back of his mind were pills he did not like. No, siree!
But unconsumed pills lying around tended to scare the staff of the psyche hospital and get everyone in a bit of a flap so Vangelis had - like a good little soldier - done his duty to his compatriot (he saluted in his own mind as he considered the memory) and swallowed them down like a big boy. Like momma always said to take your vitamins.
So, he was a teeny tiny bit in need of them now. So, he was a teeny tiny bit, and totally and completely, now into the world of buy and selling hallucinogenics and opiates to the rich and famous. So, he liked to take his earnings from the trade in the little baggies instead of in a bank account.
Hey, the world was now a far more peaceful place for him (when he wasn't tripping out on his old war time memories) and had three more colours than most people thought, so -
"Who's the loser now -eh?" He demanded, loudly and proudly to a random passerby.
Whoopsie, he realised as soon as he saw their shocked and scared face. Inside voice... Inside voice...
While Vangelis might have lost a few of his marbles along the way on his journeys. He frowned at the thought... He wondered if Rabbit had them... He had in no way lost his sense of professionalism. No sir! He was the damn best drug pusher in Manhattan and he loved to luxuriate in the ridiculous hypocrisy of the upper crust!
The high stakes! The big wigs! The creme de le - hold on.
Vangelis stopped dead in the street, his hop skippety step pausing with one foot in the air.
He had followed this route of logic before.
Bursting out laughing, he realised he was going around in circles.
Oh well, better than going around in squares. Corners tended to hit you in the face.
Along with his penchant for colourful walls, bright lights and that happy giggly floaty feeling he felt under his skin when he over-indulged, Vangelis' stint in the psyche ward had also earned him an interest in hats.
Rabbit had always liked them. Watching old, black and white Fred Astaire movies together, Rabbit had insisted that he had once lived in a hat. And that, if he ever got free from the hospital that was their prison, he would go out and buy a top hat and tails set just like good ol' Freddie. He said it would make him feel like he could dance like the man. Like he was light as air. Like all his weight would just disappear.
Vangelis had always liked the fact that the man had hanged himself in the end. He had probably enjoyed that...
Always the crafty one, and good at following orders and putting on the soldier's face and constitution, Vangelis had decided that, with his friend dead, he didn't much fancy staying inside the hospital and started on the road to artificial recovery... practising his normal face and his normal habits and abstaining from the more severe pills that turned him more kooky.
Six months after Rabbit went bye-bye, he had been released as recovered.
And he had dashed to the nearest suit shop he could find and purchased a Top Hat and tails. He had made them particular big as well. Because obviously, the bigger the hat and tails the more impressive you would be!
In a fine green velvet, the coat was - three years later - a little mottled but still very nice and his hat was of the same material but plum in hue. He had even found some material of the same forest green of the coat and wrapped it around the tower of the hat.
Because matching your hat to your coat made you look dapper.
In big black boots, a fancy ruffled shirt (a later addition to the ensemble), his tails coat, his oversized top hat and a serious amount of eyeliner - because damn that stuff was fun! - Vangelis now caused people to look and stare, or cross the street when he walked out in public. Which he liked. Because it gave him more space to dance his way to wherever he was going.
Who liked to walk anyway? Hop, skip, dance, twirl or gallop. Those were the only ways to travel. Oh and swimming. But that was only permitted when in a pool of jelly.
Having made all of his deliveries to the upper-crust homes of Manhattan (for some reason, none of them much cared for his insane appearance, though he thought it might have something to do with the drugs he offered them in exchange for ludicrous amounts of money) Vangelis was just wandering down the street and minding his own business, his feet a little dancey and his hat on at a jaunty angle, when a dishevelled and harried looking woman seemed to spot him from the front door of a large manner house and came running down the main path of the front lawns waving her arms.
Vangelis did a strange double jump to stop his feet - sometimes they didn't listen when he told them normally - and waited for her to approach, thinking the woman to be very odd.
"Finally!" The woman said, as she opened up the large iron gates and beckoned him inside.
Well, if they were just going to let the man with more traumatising brain symptoms than pairs of shoes into their home - who was he to stop them?
"We're literally about to start! I have been calling your agency all morning! We can't have a Mad Hatter Tea Party without a Mad Hatter - come on!"
Blinking, Vangelis merrily followed the lady inside, understanding literally nothing of what she was saying.
"You are very strange." He simply told her while trying to get out whatever that was stuck in the side of his mouth with his tongue. He hated it when food got stuck.
When they reached the main foyer of a very large and impression manor home - where a large garden party could be seen through a pair of double doors out back, the woman turned back to him to frown as his cheek expanded with the prodding of his tongue.
"Are you alright there?" She asked him politely, gesturing to his face.
"Oh I'm fine..." Vangelis said, his words muffled around his tongue. "I'm just trying to get - Oh! I forgot!" He moved his tongue back into place, his words becoming clearer. "It's my teeth."
And he grinned at her to show all was well.
The woman laughed, nodded, told him he was very good for already being in character and started chivvying him towards the balloon infested get together outside where a woman in a very peculiar dress stood at near the table.
"Ma'am." The strange lady called to her. "The agency finally got back to us and sent us the Hatter." She told her. "I'll leave you too to get acquainted while I welcome to guests." She then looked at Vangelis. "I assume you prepared appropriate activities and games for the afternoon?"
Having absolutely no idea what she was talking about, Vang just smiled widely and then nodded vigorously. It seemed to be the answer she was looking for as she quickly left him alone with the lady in the red dress.
Rocking from the balls of his feet to his heels and back again - not because he was awkward but because he found it fun - Vangelis then pointed to the balloons and lanterns suspended above the table.
"Is this a birthday party?" He asked.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Aaah the upper crust. The high stakes. The big wigs. The creme de la creme and cream of the crop of New York society. What a wonderful hypocrisy they all were.
Considering themselves better than all the others, thinking to themselves that their high birth and their stacks of money and gold would keep them secure and safe.
Vangelis knew better...
Oh ho ho, did he know better...
The eldest son of a military commander in the army of the good ol' US of A, Vangelis had, in his younger more swathy years gone from soldier to officer to marine and had trained harder than anyone he had ever known... a little too hard has doctors now said but hey! here he was now, loving life, so what was there to be so concerned with?
So, he'd had a little "tumble". So, he may have caused a bit of a scene. But in the end no-one died. No-one was hurt. At least not permanently. The worst part of the whole ordeal had been the months he had spent in a psychiatric ward, being treated for severe PTSD. Vangelis liked the outdoors. The walls had been boring and the nurses not pretty.
Until he had discovered Rabbit.
Rabbit was actually called Miles. But Miles wanted to be Rabbit. And Harry. And Lewis. And occasionally Cecilia.
And the pills he had taken to squash Rabbit and all his friends down into the back of his mind were pills he did not like. No, siree!
But unconsumed pills lying around tended to scare the staff of the psyche hospital and get everyone in a bit of a flap so Vangelis had - like a good little soldier - done his duty to his compatriot (he saluted in his own mind as he considered the memory) and swallowed them down like a big boy. Like momma always said to take your vitamins.
So, he was a teeny tiny bit in need of them now. So, he was a teeny tiny bit, and totally and completely, now into the world of buy and selling hallucinogenics and opiates to the rich and famous. So, he liked to take his earnings from the trade in the little baggies instead of in a bank account.
Hey, the world was now a far more peaceful place for him (when he wasn't tripping out on his old war time memories) and had three more colours than most people thought, so -
"Who's the loser now -eh?" He demanded, loudly and proudly to a random passerby.
Whoopsie, he realised as soon as he saw their shocked and scared face. Inside voice... Inside voice...
While Vangelis might have lost a few of his marbles along the way on his journeys. He frowned at the thought... He wondered if Rabbit had them... He had in no way lost his sense of professionalism. No sir! He was the damn best drug pusher in Manhattan and he loved to luxuriate in the ridiculous hypocrisy of the upper crust!
The high stakes! The big wigs! The creme de le - hold on.
Vangelis stopped dead in the street, his hop skippety step pausing with one foot in the air.
He had followed this route of logic before.
Bursting out laughing, he realised he was going around in circles.
Oh well, better than going around in squares. Corners tended to hit you in the face.
Along with his penchant for colourful walls, bright lights and that happy giggly floaty feeling he felt under his skin when he over-indulged, Vangelis' stint in the psyche ward had also earned him an interest in hats.
Rabbit had always liked them. Watching old, black and white Fred Astaire movies together, Rabbit had insisted that he had once lived in a hat. And that, if he ever got free from the hospital that was their prison, he would go out and buy a top hat and tails set just like good ol' Freddie. He said it would make him feel like he could dance like the man. Like he was light as air. Like all his weight would just disappear.
Vangelis had always liked the fact that the man had hanged himself in the end. He had probably enjoyed that...
Always the crafty one, and good at following orders and putting on the soldier's face and constitution, Vangelis had decided that, with his friend dead, he didn't much fancy staying inside the hospital and started on the road to artificial recovery... practising his normal face and his normal habits and abstaining from the more severe pills that turned him more kooky.
Six months after Rabbit went bye-bye, he had been released as recovered.
And he had dashed to the nearest suit shop he could find and purchased a Top Hat and tails. He had made them particular big as well. Because obviously, the bigger the hat and tails the more impressive you would be!
In a fine green velvet, the coat was - three years later - a little mottled but still very nice and his hat was of the same material but plum in hue. He had even found some material of the same forest green of the coat and wrapped it around the tower of the hat.
Because matching your hat to your coat made you look dapper.
In big black boots, a fancy ruffled shirt (a later addition to the ensemble), his tails coat, his oversized top hat and a serious amount of eyeliner - because damn that stuff was fun! - Vangelis now caused people to look and stare, or cross the street when he walked out in public. Which he liked. Because it gave him more space to dance his way to wherever he was going.
Who liked to walk anyway? Hop, skip, dance, twirl or gallop. Those were the only ways to travel. Oh and swimming. But that was only permitted when in a pool of jelly.
Having made all of his deliveries to the upper-crust homes of Manhattan (for some reason, none of them much cared for his insane appearance, though he thought it might have something to do with the drugs he offered them in exchange for ludicrous amounts of money) Vangelis was just wandering down the street and minding his own business, his feet a little dancey and his hat on at a jaunty angle, when a dishevelled and harried looking woman seemed to spot him from the front door of a large manner house and came running down the main path of the front lawns waving her arms.
Vangelis did a strange double jump to stop his feet - sometimes they didn't listen when he told them normally - and waited for her to approach, thinking the woman to be very odd.
"Finally!" The woman said, as she opened up the large iron gates and beckoned him inside.
Well, if they were just going to let the man with more traumatising brain symptoms than pairs of shoes into their home - who was he to stop them?
"We're literally about to start! I have been calling your agency all morning! We can't have a Mad Hatter Tea Party without a Mad Hatter - come on!"
Blinking, Vangelis merrily followed the lady inside, understanding literally nothing of what she was saying.
"You are very strange." He simply told her while trying to get out whatever that was stuck in the side of his mouth with his tongue. He hated it when food got stuck.
When they reached the main foyer of a very large and impression manor home - where a large garden party could be seen through a pair of double doors out back, the woman turned back to him to frown as his cheek expanded with the prodding of his tongue.
"Are you alright there?" She asked him politely, gesturing to his face.
"Oh I'm fine..." Vangelis said, his words muffled around his tongue. "I'm just trying to get - Oh! I forgot!" He moved his tongue back into place, his words becoming clearer. "It's my teeth."
And he grinned at her to show all was well.
The woman laughed, nodded, told him he was very good for already being in character and started chivvying him towards the balloon infested get together outside where a woman in a very peculiar dress stood at near the table.
"Ma'am." The strange lady called to her. "The agency finally got back to us and sent us the Hatter." She told her. "I'll leave you too to get acquainted while I welcome to guests." She then looked at Vangelis. "I assume you prepared appropriate activities and games for the afternoon?"
Having absolutely no idea what she was talking about, Vang just smiled widely and then nodded vigorously. It seemed to be the answer she was looking for as she quickly left him alone with the lady in the red dress.
Rocking from the balls of his feet to his heels and back again - not because he was awkward but because he found it fun - Vangelis then pointed to the balloons and lanterns suspended above the table.
"Is this a birthday party?" He asked.
Aaah the upper crust. The high stakes. The big wigs. The creme de la creme and cream of the crop of New York society. What a wonderful hypocrisy they all were.
Considering themselves better than all the others, thinking to themselves that their high birth and their stacks of money and gold would keep them secure and safe.
Vangelis knew better...
Oh ho ho, did he know better...
The eldest son of a military commander in the army of the good ol' US of A, Vangelis had, in his younger more swathy years gone from soldier to officer to marine and had trained harder than anyone he had ever known... a little too hard has doctors now said but hey! here he was now, loving life, so what was there to be so concerned with?
So, he'd had a little "tumble". So, he may have caused a bit of a scene. But in the end no-one died. No-one was hurt. At least not permanently. The worst part of the whole ordeal had been the months he had spent in a psychiatric ward, being treated for severe PTSD. Vangelis liked the outdoors. The walls had been boring and the nurses not pretty.
Until he had discovered Rabbit.
Rabbit was actually called Miles. But Miles wanted to be Rabbit. And Harry. And Lewis. And occasionally Cecilia.
And the pills he had taken to squash Rabbit and all his friends down into the back of his mind were pills he did not like. No, siree!
But unconsumed pills lying around tended to scare the staff of the psyche hospital and get everyone in a bit of a flap so Vangelis had - like a good little soldier - done his duty to his compatriot (he saluted in his own mind as he considered the memory) and swallowed them down like a big boy. Like momma always said to take your vitamins.
So, he was a teeny tiny bit in need of them now. So, he was a teeny tiny bit, and totally and completely, now into the world of buy and selling hallucinogenics and opiates to the rich and famous. So, he liked to take his earnings from the trade in the little baggies instead of in a bank account.
Hey, the world was now a far more peaceful place for him (when he wasn't tripping out on his old war time memories) and had three more colours than most people thought, so -
"Who's the loser now -eh?" He demanded, loudly and proudly to a random passerby.
Whoopsie, he realised as soon as he saw their shocked and scared face. Inside voice... Inside voice...
While Vangelis might have lost a few of his marbles along the way on his journeys. He frowned at the thought... He wondered if Rabbit had them... He had in no way lost his sense of professionalism. No sir! He was the damn best drug pusher in Manhattan and he loved to luxuriate in the ridiculous hypocrisy of the upper crust!
The high stakes! The big wigs! The creme de le - hold on.
Vangelis stopped dead in the street, his hop skippety step pausing with one foot in the air.
He had followed this route of logic before.
Bursting out laughing, he realised he was going around in circles.
Oh well, better than going around in squares. Corners tended to hit you in the face.
Along with his penchant for colourful walls, bright lights and that happy giggly floaty feeling he felt under his skin when he over-indulged, Vangelis' stint in the psyche ward had also earned him an interest in hats.
Rabbit had always liked them. Watching old, black and white Fred Astaire movies together, Rabbit had insisted that he had once lived in a hat. And that, if he ever got free from the hospital that was their prison, he would go out and buy a top hat and tails set just like good ol' Freddie. He said it would make him feel like he could dance like the man. Like he was light as air. Like all his weight would just disappear.
Vangelis had always liked the fact that the man had hanged himself in the end. He had probably enjoyed that...
Always the crafty one, and good at following orders and putting on the soldier's face and constitution, Vangelis had decided that, with his friend dead, he didn't much fancy staying inside the hospital and started on the road to artificial recovery... practising his normal face and his normal habits and abstaining from the more severe pills that turned him more kooky.
Six months after Rabbit went bye-bye, he had been released as recovered.
And he had dashed to the nearest suit shop he could find and purchased a Top Hat and tails. He had made them particular big as well. Because obviously, the bigger the hat and tails the more impressive you would be!
In a fine green velvet, the coat was - three years later - a little mottled but still very nice and his hat was of the same material but plum in hue. He had even found some material of the same forest green of the coat and wrapped it around the tower of the hat.
Because matching your hat to your coat made you look dapper.
In big black boots, a fancy ruffled shirt (a later addition to the ensemble), his tails coat, his oversized top hat and a serious amount of eyeliner - because damn that stuff was fun! - Vangelis now caused people to look and stare, or cross the street when he walked out in public. Which he liked. Because it gave him more space to dance his way to wherever he was going.
Who liked to walk anyway? Hop, skip, dance, twirl or gallop. Those were the only ways to travel. Oh and swimming. But that was only permitted when in a pool of jelly.
Having made all of his deliveries to the upper-crust homes of Manhattan (for some reason, none of them much cared for his insane appearance, though he thought it might have something to do with the drugs he offered them in exchange for ludicrous amounts of money) Vangelis was just wandering down the street and minding his own business, his feet a little dancey and his hat on at a jaunty angle, when a dishevelled and harried looking woman seemed to spot him from the front door of a large manner house and came running down the main path of the front lawns waving her arms.
Vangelis did a strange double jump to stop his feet - sometimes they didn't listen when he told them normally - and waited for her to approach, thinking the woman to be very odd.
"Finally!" The woman said, as she opened up the large iron gates and beckoned him inside.
Well, if they were just going to let the man with more traumatising brain symptoms than pairs of shoes into their home - who was he to stop them?
"We're literally about to start! I have been calling your agency all morning! We can't have a Mad Hatter Tea Party without a Mad Hatter - come on!"
Blinking, Vangelis merrily followed the lady inside, understanding literally nothing of what she was saying.
"You are very strange." He simply told her while trying to get out whatever that was stuck in the side of his mouth with his tongue. He hated it when food got stuck.
When they reached the main foyer of a very large and impression manor home - where a large garden party could be seen through a pair of double doors out back, the woman turned back to him to frown as his cheek expanded with the prodding of his tongue.
"Are you alright there?" She asked him politely, gesturing to his face.
"Oh I'm fine..." Vangelis said, his words muffled around his tongue. "I'm just trying to get - Oh! I forgot!" He moved his tongue back into place, his words becoming clearer. "It's my teeth."
And he grinned at her to show all was well.
The woman laughed, nodded, told him he was very good for already being in character and started chivvying him towards the balloon infested get together outside where a woman in a very peculiar dress stood at near the table.
"Ma'am." The strange lady called to her. "The agency finally got back to us and sent us the Hatter." She told her. "I'll leave you too to get acquainted while I welcome to guests." She then looked at Vangelis. "I assume you prepared appropriate activities and games for the afternoon?"
Having absolutely no idea what she was talking about, Vang just smiled widely and then nodded vigorously. It seemed to be the answer she was looking for as she quickly left him alone with the lady in the red dress.
Rocking from the balls of his feet to his heels and back again - not because he was awkward but because he found it fun - Vangelis then pointed to the balloons and lanterns suspended above the table.
"Is this a birthday party?" He asked.
Descending the main marble stairwell within the mansion that led to the foyer, Nike giggled as the red silken dress flared out behind her. Was this how princesses felt? She placed a hand on her vermillion locks again, checking to ensure they were all in place - nothing must go wrong. Even the weather had not been permitted to go wrong. Nike had spent all day the day before going over weather reports - the spoilt brat had been all ready to ask daddy dearest to move the whole party to a remote, tropical island had the weather been disastrous. Luckily for her, the clear skies and bright sun signalled a beautiful afternoon, and Nike couldn't be more delighted.
Her red suede heels clicked on the smooth surface, hands sliding down the gold gilded bannisters as she descended, just in time to hear the head housekeeper's voice that addressed her, "Young Miss Acarisk! The Mad Hatter has arrived, and all your friends are mingling - come, they await you." The smile on the housekeeper's face was - to any sane person who watched - definitely forced.
But the eccentric daughter wasn't exactly the sanest.
The staff of the mansion had always had a tough time ensuring what was right and wrong when it came to the whims and fancies of the crazy young Miss of their household. At this point, they simply went with all her requests and desires, lest they get fired for engaging in the wrath of the pampered princess. So they simply indulged in her needs, escorting her towards the gardens where Nike gasped at all the decorations - exactly as she pictured them.
Hands laid on her chest as her golden eyes skimmed the area, her smile merely grew brighter as she saw the dressed up man she assumed was the Mad Hatter. She had insisted there be one - how could it be a Mad Hatter tea party with no mad hatter indeed. Allowing the housekeeper to sort out the rest of the food items and tea sets that were being brought out, Nike couldn't help but let her eyes traversed the outfit the other male wore, marvelling at the detail. At his question, she laughed, the sound muted as the rest of the guests at the party filtered in, greeting Nike offhandedly and meandering with each other. All of Nike's upper-crust friends were as pampered as she was - and likely had pre-drinks and some special brownies before they arrived too.
She wasn't surprised.
"Of course not, silly!" Nike grinned, shaking her head and allowing her bright locks to catch the afternoon sunlight. She accepted a piece of brownie that a passing friend handed to her, taking a nibble and sighing in delight. "Tis simply to celebrate a beautiful day!" she threw her hands out and twirled on the spot, head tilted to the sky to bask in the warm rays. Stopping, her gaze dropped to him , a cheeky grin glimmering in its golden depths. "So really, it is an unbirthday party. Do you think we could regress in age if we celebrated more of these?" her tone was almost childish, as she looked at the brownie in her hand, back to the male in the top hat, and then extended the hand to him, offering him her brownie.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Descending the main marble stairwell within the mansion that led to the foyer, Nike giggled as the red silken dress flared out behind her. Was this how princesses felt? She placed a hand on her vermillion locks again, checking to ensure they were all in place - nothing must go wrong. Even the weather had not been permitted to go wrong. Nike had spent all day the day before going over weather reports - the spoilt brat had been all ready to ask daddy dearest to move the whole party to a remote, tropical island had the weather been disastrous. Luckily for her, the clear skies and bright sun signalled a beautiful afternoon, and Nike couldn't be more delighted.
Her red suede heels clicked on the smooth surface, hands sliding down the gold gilded bannisters as she descended, just in time to hear the head housekeeper's voice that addressed her, "Young Miss Acarisk! The Mad Hatter has arrived, and all your friends are mingling - come, they await you." The smile on the housekeeper's face was - to any sane person who watched - definitely forced.
But the eccentric daughter wasn't exactly the sanest.
The staff of the mansion had always had a tough time ensuring what was right and wrong when it came to the whims and fancies of the crazy young Miss of their household. At this point, they simply went with all her requests and desires, lest they get fired for engaging in the wrath of the pampered princess. So they simply indulged in her needs, escorting her towards the gardens where Nike gasped at all the decorations - exactly as she pictured them.
Hands laid on her chest as her golden eyes skimmed the area, her smile merely grew brighter as she saw the dressed up man she assumed was the Mad Hatter. She had insisted there be one - how could it be a Mad Hatter tea party with no mad hatter indeed. Allowing the housekeeper to sort out the rest of the food items and tea sets that were being brought out, Nike couldn't help but let her eyes traversed the outfit the other male wore, marvelling at the detail. At his question, she laughed, the sound muted as the rest of the guests at the party filtered in, greeting Nike offhandedly and meandering with each other. All of Nike's upper-crust friends were as pampered as she was - and likely had pre-drinks and some special brownies before they arrived too.
She wasn't surprised.
"Of course not, silly!" Nike grinned, shaking her head and allowing her bright locks to catch the afternoon sunlight. She accepted a piece of brownie that a passing friend handed to her, taking a nibble and sighing in delight. "Tis simply to celebrate a beautiful day!" she threw her hands out and twirled on the spot, head tilted to the sky to bask in the warm rays. Stopping, her gaze dropped to him , a cheeky grin glimmering in its golden depths. "So really, it is an unbirthday party. Do you think we could regress in age if we celebrated more of these?" her tone was almost childish, as she looked at the brownie in her hand, back to the male in the top hat, and then extended the hand to him, offering him her brownie.
Descending the main marble stairwell within the mansion that led to the foyer, Nike giggled as the red silken dress flared out behind her. Was this how princesses felt? She placed a hand on her vermillion locks again, checking to ensure they were all in place - nothing must go wrong. Even the weather had not been permitted to go wrong. Nike had spent all day the day before going over weather reports - the spoilt brat had been all ready to ask daddy dearest to move the whole party to a remote, tropical island had the weather been disastrous. Luckily for her, the clear skies and bright sun signalled a beautiful afternoon, and Nike couldn't be more delighted.
Her red suede heels clicked on the smooth surface, hands sliding down the gold gilded bannisters as she descended, just in time to hear the head housekeeper's voice that addressed her, "Young Miss Acarisk! The Mad Hatter has arrived, and all your friends are mingling - come, they await you." The smile on the housekeeper's face was - to any sane person who watched - definitely forced.
But the eccentric daughter wasn't exactly the sanest.
The staff of the mansion had always had a tough time ensuring what was right and wrong when it came to the whims and fancies of the crazy young Miss of their household. At this point, they simply went with all her requests and desires, lest they get fired for engaging in the wrath of the pampered princess. So they simply indulged in her needs, escorting her towards the gardens where Nike gasped at all the decorations - exactly as she pictured them.
Hands laid on her chest as her golden eyes skimmed the area, her smile merely grew brighter as she saw the dressed up man she assumed was the Mad Hatter. She had insisted there be one - how could it be a Mad Hatter tea party with no mad hatter indeed. Allowing the housekeeper to sort out the rest of the food items and tea sets that were being brought out, Nike couldn't help but let her eyes traversed the outfit the other male wore, marvelling at the detail. At his question, she laughed, the sound muted as the rest of the guests at the party filtered in, greeting Nike offhandedly and meandering with each other. All of Nike's upper-crust friends were as pampered as she was - and likely had pre-drinks and some special brownies before they arrived too.
She wasn't surprised.
"Of course not, silly!" Nike grinned, shaking her head and allowing her bright locks to catch the afternoon sunlight. She accepted a piece of brownie that a passing friend handed to her, taking a nibble and sighing in delight. "Tis simply to celebrate a beautiful day!" she threw her hands out and twirled on the spot, head tilted to the sky to bask in the warm rays. Stopping, her gaze dropped to him , a cheeky grin glimmering in its golden depths. "So really, it is an unbirthday party. Do you think we could regress in age if we celebrated more of these?" her tone was almost childish, as she looked at the brownie in her hand, back to the male in the top hat, and then extended the hand to him, offering him her brownie.