Be Our Guest [OPEN]

[Tango]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=CAE1FF] Estella Arabella Antoinette Boredom could drive a person to the edge of insanity, march them right up to the brink then blow them off with the softest breath. It was a disease, plaguing the mind, vandalizing commonsense and urging thoughtless antics and deviant behaviour. It was almost as if time stood still, refusing to budge in some show of senseless pride. No one had spoken a word in hours, the house had fallen silent and I was left to dwell between white walls, prisoner in this solitary box. I’d looked for blondie, my sister, just for a little bit of conversation, a taste of communication to lighten up the dullness that had begun to cloud the depths of my mind, but it was to no avail, at some point she’d vanished, slipped through the door and been devoured by the shadows, swallowed into the night. Or at least I assumed she had, everyone else had appeared to make a miraculous disappearance. It seemed that everyone had found something to do besides myself, some excuse to escape my mother’s activities for the evening. As if they’d all been forewarned that this event was occurring and that it’d be best to escape the confinements of the household before anybody arrived. Of course there were some noises, echoing from the kitchen, bouncing off the walls and ringing in the core of my ears like some incessant wailing. The distinguishing clang of pots and pans colliding with one another, competing for the attention of the chef, each one desiring nothing more than to be the main dish. The scuffling sound of silver brushing oak chimed somewhat in the distance as the table was decorated with the cutlery needed to be the superior host. That’s all these dinners were about, exploiting wealth and showing off whatever flashy new object had found its way into the house. Of course I approved of demonstrating our excellence, but there was something about today that irked me, probing at my subconscious and rattling my rationality, taunting my pride. Exhaling a calming breath to gather my turbulent thoughts, I promptly marched myself away from the clutter, separating myself from the rich scent of cooked meat and lingering spices. The social silence didn’t loom once I hit the hallway, the distinctive silk of my mother’s voice eased its way around my features and swam elsewhere, vanishing into the crafted bannister and the hand-carved doors. “Have you seen my earrings, I need my earrings.” I could almost guarantee they were the disgusting looking pair her new beau had acquired for her, he had no taste whatsoever, it was embarrassing, sickening and vulgar all melted into one. Tasteless peasant. Disregarding my sudden irritation a faux pleasant smile washed perfectly upon my lips as I disappeared into the warmth of my room. It wouldn’t do to appear irritated, it’d just make it less believable when I discovered one of those lower-crust scoundrels stealing from us, or doing something utterly despicable. I would catch them. They didn’t belong here, they weren’t Antoinette. It was rather mysterious actually that none had stuck around for this dinner date. Probably for the best, they’d only bring shame on us with their mannerisms and lack of class. Swallowing my frustrations I devoted my attentions elsewhere, raiding the cupboard with minimal effort until a black dress cradled the creation of my figure, barely disguising the tattoo engraved upon my side alongside exploiting the slender build of my back with a low cut v breaking down the length of my spine in the lacy fabric. Turning nonchalantly volcanic eyes idly began to address the issue of my disgruntled hair, fixing it into light, loose curls before the sudden sound of the door slammed demandingly into my attention. Knock. Knock. Knock. Guess it was time to find out which family they’d invited for dinner this time.

[Dylan189]

Mark Antony



Mark was day was coming to a close. Training had gone well, and his walk home was quiet and peaceful. His family was not a very social group, because his mother was so... odd in many ways. But today, Mark came home to a surprise, his sisters and brother were all dressed nice and ready to leave somewhere. After a long prolonged argument between him and his mother about not having to go, or just her going and him and his siblings stay at home. Mark did not trust his mother with children because of what she had done in the past, so he was not going to let them go, or so he thought. After about ten minuets of arguing, Mark gave into his mother. She ordered him to get dressed and ready for the dinner they were about to approach.

Mark left, a bit mad. Getting ready, putting on one of his fathers old dress shirts, walking into the bathroom, brushing his teeth and putting on some cologne and running some water through his hair. Mark was not excited about this get together, but when it came to meeting with others, Mark would not let it be his mother to be the one to represent them. He ran his hands through his hair with some gel, styling it in a messy looking fashion. Mark looked into the mirror, grabbing a razor and touching up his clean shaved face. Giving out a lout sigh, he turned and walked out of the house, letting his mother lead the way. Mark picked up his little sister Flavia and put her on his shoulders and they chatted a bit. The walk was not long, but it was annoying, having to spend this time with his mother was painful. Finally reaching his destination, his mother stood still at the door. " Um, are you gonna knock?", Mark looked at his mother and she shook her head. Letting out another sigh, Mark took Flavia off his shoulders. Slowly approaching the door, his mother slowly stepped behind him.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

'Who do we owe the pleasure to this time?' Mark thought to himself.

[Tango]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=CAE1FF] Estella Arabella Antoinette Is anyone going to get the door? It seemed pointless to attempt to ask the question but it slipped from my grasp without restraint, ricocheting against closed doors and walls decorated with material items. After several seconds and a sudden build of hibernating noise, two doors spilt open at once; one emitting the blurred figure or my mother floating down the stairs alongside the disgraceful riff-raff she now called her husband. The other my own as a disgruntled look perplexed the length of my downturned lips and probed the edges of my eyes until they narrowed into a displeased frown. Luckily I didn’t give myself long to dwell on the negativity of my displeasure and instead light, phantom footsteps carried me elegantly down the staircase, the grace fluent as pouted lips flattened into a sneer. “I bet these are his friends.”There was a moment of silence during the accusation and a disheartening pause as my mother’s hand abruptly stopped in its reach for the door. “Enough of your nonsense Estella, don’t you dare embarrass me.” Choking back sour laughter I’d give a simple shake of my head, disregarding the protest of my finely placed curls. “You embarrassed this family the moment you married him.”” That was it. The look of serpent willing to strike bore straight into the core of my eyes, narrowing in on the corrupt vacancy where my soul might have once been harbored. After that I dipped into silence with nothing more than a feigned, polite smile. It wasn’t worth the hassle not now. Not when I’d been left to witness this travesty while everyone else had managed to escape in some way, shape or form. The door opening caused a faint, prominent shiver to brush the exposed length of flesh left to the mercy of nature, the chill of the wind seeping inwards encouraged my arms to cross defensively while smoldering pits of ignited brown peered outwards assessing the guests that my mother greeted most enthusiastically. No doubt they were some lower crust scoundrels that had been acquaintances of my new, poor-blooded step-father, for I’d never seen them before as far as I could recall. After a few moments I’d retract my steps, edging into the living area where bountiful space was offered for more comfortable conversation. I hadn’t bothered speaking, or even listened to the conversations being exchanged until my mother’s voice squawked into the depths of my ears like nails to a chalk board and drew my gaze to her dictating features. “Estella this is Mark, Mark Estella. You two should talk, I’m going to take these two ladies into the dining room for drinks.” That irritating smile of hers gnawed ruthlessly at my nerves as I bit back the urge to make some degrading comment and instead executed a convincing, nothing would please me more, sort of look, I watched her saunter proudly from the room until I had nothing else to direct my attention to other than the man stood upon the plush cream carpet my mother had come to favour so possessively. “Do you know why we’re playing happy dinner dates? Because I’d love to know. Quirking an inquisitive brow I’d wait somewhat patiently for an answer, my weight shifting onto the strength of an individual leg while a pale, marble hand floated south to cup the curve of my hip in a stance of displeasure. Nothing agitated me more than being ill-informed, especially when it involved guests. Since clearly my siblings and even those step-brats had been given the information and taken the time to gather excuses and be otherwise occupied for this little surprise.

[Dylan189]

Mark Antony

Mark cracked his neck, waiting for the door to be answered, this house was big, it was beautiful. But inside probably snobs who took it all for granted. Mark brought Flavia to his side and gave her a hug." Be polite, and do the opposite of everything baba does". Baba was a code word that a six year old could understand for mom. Our mother was no role model. Cecilia was lucky, she was a friends house and could skip out of this fiasco, but Mark and Flavia were stuck here.

The doors started to creek open and inside whispers could be herd. Muffled but still able to be herd. The door opened and blinding light struck Marks eyes, making him close them for a quick moment, taking in the brightness, then opening them again. " Hi" Mark did the greetings, pulling off a great bluff about being happy to be here. Afterwards the woman led us inside, and directed me to the living room. " Here Mark I want you to meet my daughter." Oh great, a daughter, Mark thought. Usually, rich snobby daughters were the worst, and most annoying.

Walking into the big room, beautifully decorated, Mark spotted the girl, she was beautiful and nicely dressed. The mother introduced us and left the room. Afterwards the girl stands up and asks Mark a question. Mark herd her loud and clear, and not even looking at her to respond. He takes a seat as far away from her as he can.

" Look this is how this is going to work. One: we will get through this day as fast as we can. Two: Shut up, I'm not here to talk to you. Three: I don't care that you don't want us here, cause I do not wanna be here anyways. Now lets get one more thing straight, when your mom comes back in, were gonna act like we hit it off. Got it, good." Mark layed back and took in the silence.

[Tango]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=CAE1FF] Estella Arabella Antoinette Impatience wasn’t practical but it was in fact nature. Barring pretty teeth and faking tender smiles had become part of perfected theatrics and it lasted for as long as an observant party lingered, the moment they vanished behind closed doors and the timbre of his vulgar, intolerable voice broke into the air things just had to change. Chewing thoughtfully on the core of my tongue I’d simply listen for a moment or two, unable to contain the predatory sneer breaking across provoked lips and scoffing a dry, patronizing puff of laughter. “Oh darling you’ve got it all wrong.” Silken vocals broke sweetly, caressing the air with elegance and toxic hypnosis while tainted lips twisted domineeringly to reflect the flare now burning behind thick, dark lashes. There was nothing worse than men with anti-social issues, except perhaps egotistical pipsqueaks with biceps for brains and balls the size of raisins. “Now you listen here. You’re in my house, on my side of town. Just because this demented creature my mother married mixes with ill-mannered, rude cretins doesn’t mean I’m going to take your shit.” Keeping complete composure the tone almost sounded cheery, as not to alarm anyone in the next room, the quietness conducted with expertise as attired feet remained perfectly still, holding their stance in the centre of the room. “We’re going to do whatever I say we’re going to do or I’m going to scream and accuse you of one; stealing and believe me within the space of half a second I could make it convincing or two; I’ll throw myself on top of you and claim you tried to kiss me and I might even make up some elaborate story about where you were trying to put your hands, then we’ll see if you leave here alive.” After a brief pause a soft cough would clear the tension brimming in the back of my throat as long, delicate limbs dismissed the space and brought the arch of my seemingly fragile frame to perch on the opposite arm of the sofa, smiling quaintly. “Now that we’ve got an understanding, why don’t you tell me who you are? It’s rude not to answer questions you know.”

[Dylan189]

Mark Antony


Mark listened to her with a smile, a devious one. She was smart and he knew it, she could be a smart ass too. Mark nodded playing along with her little bossy attitude. Mark cleared his throat and a smile as he turns to look at her he whispers to her. " Your good." Mark nodded, getting up sitting next to her. " If were going to be civilized then lets act like this is a pleasant situation. Now, I'm Mark Antony, I can tell you think I'm stupid, but I can guarantee you that I would choose a book over a sword, almost everyday. And before you ask, I wont volunteer, never plan on it and never will. Now how about you?" Mark smiled saying this all interested in this girl, she was just like him, unpleasant sometimes and likes to be in control.

Mark had met a few people like this before, but none were ever able to take control like she just did, its a sing of intelligence, not a lot of people here were as smart as mark. But maybe she was, but time would tell.

( kinda short sorry

[Tango]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=CAE1FF] Estella Arabella Antoinette Relaxing somewhat an otherwise unengaged leg would raise to cross idly over the other whilst a clenched fist would provide the perfect pedestal for her chin as she’d make herself perfectly comfortable and listen to the response with satisfaction. Estella had grown accustomed to getting her own way and it had never been through whining or having things handed to her upon a silver platter. They were earned through intelligence, maliciousness, deviousness and all things corrupt but effective. “I know.” Acknowledging the compliment she’d give a simple, dismissive shrug before pursing her lips and lavishing the lower with a brief, simple sweet from her ripe, rosy tongue. “I’m a fantastic actor, I’m sure I can manage that.” Leaning back into the sofa’s embrace a moment of thoughtfulness would wash effortlessly across her complex features as she’d chew the sincerity in her words and contemplate her own opinion on the matter. “A sword weighs more than me, I have no interest in them. When I fight I use a whip, but It’s not a passion of mine, the games aren’t something I obsessive over. I wouldn’t volunteer, I have no reason to.” Giving a productive shrug she’d simply throw a glance towards her newest acquaintance before remembering the manners she often lacked, “Estella Antoinette, by the way.”

[Dylan189]

Mark Antony

Mark sat looking at the girl. Maybe he would actually enjoy her company. He usually enjoyed people who took control of the situation. But he would usually battle for the control, yet here he was in a bit of a predicament, almost everything he could try and do would end up him getting killed or him getting thrown in jail. Mark sighed and leaned his head back taking a deep breath then looking at her once more. " Nice to meet you, wish it was under more pleasant circumstances, but our parents decided this was a good idea, and dragged me along." Mark tried to read the girl but nothing was really coming out of it. She kept her complexion and seemed very lady like about everything.

" Oh, and if you throw yourself on me, I might just steal that kiss." Mark says joking and makes sure she knows it, he chuckles a bit and lays his head back and sighs. " So your moms cooking any good? Or do we need to see how good of an actor I am?"