Thread: Unmasked

A slight knock at his door, disrupting his peace... His silence. Amador turned his head slowly. Yes? The reply came muffled through the heavy wooden doors. The guests have arrived sir, they await you downstairs. Hm... The artist's fingertips traced the carved armrest of the chair he reposed in. Sir? The Mask Maker stood slowly with a sigh, opening a drawer and slipping a case into his pocket. Announce me. Yes sir. His presence filled the room as he descended the stairs silently. Tall and broad-shouldered, his fluid motion progressed with the air of one accustomed to commanding his space absolutely. Dark brown eyes cut into the crowd before him. Amador made no effort to ease the hush that rippled over the crowd, nor alleviate the heavy silence that followed. He knew what familiarity bred, and felt no need to pander to the nobles before him. They were nothing more than money. Gold for his craft. He made that distinction explicitly clear. No one was privy to Amador's personal life. His hobbies. What he disliked. Which newspaper he read.... His age. The artist kept to himself- and kept others away from his estate. A recluse? Perhaps. 'But how could one so charming and adept lock himself away?' Came the whispers. Rumors trailed at the man's heels constantly. They were the only thing publicly available concerning Mr. Decessus. Other than his wares. Lips neither smiling nor frowning as the face behind the mask remained unreadable, Amador stepped up to the thin podium at the base of the stairs. Good evening, Honored Guests. Thank you for your attendance. He paused, letting a pleasant smile wash over his features. Tonight we celebrate a new line of masks, made from the finest materials- A graceful hand swept to the far right of the room, where five full masks sat in velvet under glass. The first of this line are on display. The starting prices will be listed. Please direct any inquiries towards my associates. Two men in sharp suits bracing iPads stepped forward. The silent auction will now begin. Please... Enjoy the Masquerade. Succinct as was habitual, Amador stepped off. He never was one for long speeches, although the deep timbre of his voice could hold an audience in sway with a near regal ease. The orchestra struck up a waltz. The chandeliers dimmed slightly. Drinks and orderves were catered out on sliver trays. Immediately the crowd swallowed him a flurry of baited questions and flowery proposals. Formalities. Amador nodded and smiled, chuckling politely, offering complements where they were due His crafted replies and frigid eyes were enough to keep dealings at a comfortable arms length. How tedious The Mask Maker's eyes scanned the crowd as he murmured polite responses, their dark orbs never staying still. Tonights festivities were not for him, the guests wanted nothing but to flaunt and flirt, excited with their veiled identities. He simply provided the medium. Dressed in their flamboyant clothing, they began to dance. Others of a more base nature moved towards the buffet table... A glass of champagne was slipped into his fingers by a beautiful, buxom woman. Amador bowed his head, apology illusory in his regrets at declining her offer, before moving on through the crowd. He discarded the champagne discreetly in a plant, smoothly turning to address the next person to tap him upon the shoulder. Mm indeed, Madame... The feathers are a nice touch. How hideous. I assume that is Giveldi's work? I always did admire his flowers. Brown eyes flicked up from the woman to catch on a familiar mane of blond hair meandering through the crowds. Yes. Quite. If you'd excuse me.. My friend, I do not know why you bothered wearing a mask. Amador's smile was perfect, his affectionate laugh flawlessly executed, though his gaze remained distant as he offered a hand in greeting. Your hair will always give you away. It is a beacon. You must buy a wig if you wish to be truly anonymous. He offered the hand to the man's wife. I hope you enjoyed your newest purchase. It was one of my favorites. His eyes alighted on the slim figure that hovered sightly off to the side. Ah is this your son? What's this now After releasing the eldest's hand he held it out to the smaller boy slowly. Brown bore steadily into bright blue, then trailed down the boy's physique, before returning to his father's eyes. I did not know you had a second son.