Thread: Unmasked

Today seemed to be filled with disappointment after disappointment. Nothing seemed to be going right. If it wasn't one thing it was another. First. His servant had brought the wrong damn drink. He hadn't asked for a Vodka he'd asked for a Whiskey Sour. Second his suit didn't fit as it should have. It was too small. Even for his small frame. Every movement made it seem like he was about to pop out of it at any moment. At one point the stitching even popped. In the end he had to call for one of his old suits, firing yet another seamstress. They were all useless. Every now and again he wondered why he even asked them to do anything for him in the first place. If you want something done right you must do it yourself. Wasn't that the saying? Mishka himself was about ready to go along with those words. His hand came up to run through his dirty blond hair, glaring at his mirrored reflection. It wasn't what he had had in mind. The other suit had been the perfect color. A gorgeous dark blue that offset his own bright blue eyes. This one was a deep green, one from a year ago that he had used when his older brother had been married. How was that he, an aristocrats son, had to be in an old suit? It didn't make sense! His father had money, and power. How was it that he couldn't get his own son a better suit! Grumbling darkly he turned from the mirror, stepping down from the stool they had placed in front of the mirror. It was useless. Mishka knew that he wasn't the favorite son. He wasn't going to be taking after his father. That was they way his world worked. Even if it made him pissed off. Moving through the room he headed for the door, ignoring the seamstress as she tried to placate him. It wasn't working. Mishka wasn't listening to her and it was even more evident that he wasn't when he closed the door in her face. On the other side of the door Mishka released a breath, glancing down the hall to make sure that he was alone. He wasn't even sure why they were going to this stupid party. That reminded him he was going to have to choose a different mask now. A masquerade. It seemed like such a silly idea to him. People walking around in masks and being unable to tell who was who. But the man holding the party was rather wealthy, not to mention kind of a celebrity. Mishka heard the rumors and the ladies talk about him during tea. The man was a mystery. One that no one could help not to talk about. What was behind the mask? What was he hiding? No one knew and it was obvious that no one ever tried to just take the damn thing off. Turning mishka started down the hall, shoes clicking softly as he retreated towards his room. He had many masks from Mr. Decessus all were gifts from his father. Not one of them were important to Mishka. It was nothing more than a piece of dried clay people tied to their face, wasn't it not? Something like that could never hold his attention more than a few moments. Not when it could be focused on a new car or a new servant to bed. Reaching his room he pushed the door open, stepping inside and gently closing the door behind him. A small smile slipped across his lips at the familiar sight. The room was rather large but simple. Nothing but what was needed. Mishka wasn't one for possessions. He found he got too attached to things and that was never a good thing. Especially if he lost something he became fond of. That's when all hell really broke loose. Quickly he crossed the room and headed for his closet, pushing the door open and stepped inside. Like his room it held barely anything. Only what he need and the masks. His eyes scanned over them. He had maybe about fifteen of them and they all looked untouched. of course the only time Mishka touched them was when he went to balls like this.. which was never. Pulling in a breath he stood there for a few moments, thinking it over before he reached out and grabbed one of the masks. It was a beautiful green mask with intricate blue markings that only covered the top half of his face. It was perfect. With a nod he pressed it to his face, shivering slightly at the cold feeling as his fingers tied the green ribbons into a knot and then a bow. Once in place he turned to the mirror in his closet, giving himself a once over before he was satisfied. Mishka himself couldn't deny that he looked good. With a smile to himself he hurried away, making his way out of his room and down stairs. His parents and his brother were already waiting for him, feeling their eyes looking him over before they gave a nod of approval and they were off. ... The car ride to the mansion was silent, knowing that his parents were still studying him fro faults. He wasn't allowed to have any faults. It would only look back on his brother and his father. Really, it just made him want to scream at them for how stupid they were being. He was himself and the only on responsible for his mistakes was himself. Once the mansion came into view those blue eyes went wide, staring at the building as if he had never seen anything like it. It was the first time he had been allowed to attend such a party but it was mostly because he bitched about it until they had allowed him to go. The car stopped right infront of the mansion, making mishka give a small gulp as the door was opened for him and he stepped out of the car. His eyes roamed over the building, marveling at the stone structure before he was ushered inside along with the rest of his family.