[Gothicbloodygem]

Looking at the large ornate door, he sighed. He hadn’t wanted to rejoin society but he hadn’t been given a chance. Lucien had been driven from the ton a little over half dozen years back when accused, silently, of being the murderer of his father. It didn’t matter that he had been a green youth of seventeen. He hadn’t even been old enough to take possession of his father’s life, money, business and success. It honestly hadn’t been solely the ton that had driven him away so much as the hate he felt to the falsity of their life.

They lived in the space between squalor and grandeur of pursuits. Both terms fit their world to the ridicule of putting even a wrong punctuation mark in a private invisa-message (IM; explained later). People were even made fun of if they mixed the older Stewart designs with Victorian. They were downright proclaimed pariah’s if they slipped and wore any of the previously up-to-period-clothing beside the clear piece of unbreakable glass called The Kindle that had replace everything technological from cell phones to computers, hologram disks, DVD’s, CD’s, TV’s, newspapers and paper messages of all kinds.

The ton all ignored that a mere two hundred or so years ago it had been hellishly hot from global warming and the flashy skimpy clothing had been necessary then. It was after global warming hit in full effect they had taken to space and when it had been safe to return the temp had been cold enough to revive the clothing fashion from the sixteen to eighteen hundreds. In only a matter of a hundred years they had even taken on a society structure similar to that of the Olde English… That’s why he, the noble blue blooded he was… or had been… had been assigned to infiltrate the town and stop the person that was tormenting the ton. No other bounty hunter was allowed around the cream of the crop and it was one of them that was the troublemaker… at least that’s the theory his boss Mr. X thought.

It was the sound of the butler clearing his throat that finally pulled Luc’s thoughts away from the grim reality he faced. He hadn’t wanted to return to the ton and he hadn’t wanted to take the assignment. Straightening the cuffs of his sleeves to show just the proper length of snow-white linen he took out his small Kindle and transferred his data as well as his invitation to the ball to the butler. Luc could see his eyes widen just slightly before he passed the information onto the footman on the inside of the ornate door.

“Duke of Rothsland, Earl of Summersolt . . . Lucien Ashford of Ravewith.”

The door smoothly opened as his name and title were announced. A hush suffused the room as he moved out to the top of the double staircase and paused, as was the fashion. He let them gawk at his simple black outfit but he could feel some of the dowagers distaste as they found nothing amiss in his attire. It may be simple and sever but it was of high cut, quality, and just the thing. He wore a proper jacket with matching waistcoat and pants. Both had a simple thread of dark silver that languorously made a fashionably haphazard design of ivy instead of a simple hem. High-grade replica black leather boots finished off the look. They did give him a jaded disapproving stare at the state of his slightly longer than fashionable black hair but its tidy contained appearance only provoked a sniff of dislike.

After feeling every eye of the Ton on him, and his own wandering around the crowded ballroom, for the proper amount of time he began down the stairs. Small quiet conversation began again in a contained rush with his first movement of his silver eyes and lean body.

He could feel the hushed speculation and he twitched every so slightly as he heard the fist whisper of his other name… ‘Lucifer,’ it ran through the crowd and spoke of his past deeds. ‘Lucifer,’ it made a few maidens swoon as it talked about his past prowess with the ladies… ‘Lucifer,’ it made the matrons frown as it told them of past suspicions and the murder mystery looming over his head. ‘Lucifer,’ it was his curse and his gift. No one would believe him to be the famous ‘golden boy’ bounty hunter named Michael. The two would not exist in the same space much less the same body.

With a slight smile curing his lips he watched as a stately matron broke away from her pack and approached him. The smile deepened as she broke with tradition and three her arms around his neck, her skirts rising around him in a sea of pink fluff.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” the woman exclaimed.

“Thank you for the invitation, Lady Caroline …” he murmured remembering to late that all eyes were on him and they probably thought this scene a little to friendly.

“It is past time you rejoined the land of the living, your Grace!” she returned, pulling back and remembering where they were. “I’ve missed my childhood friend something awful,” she said, it was only loud enough for the people just around her to hear. “You should have never left it.” She said firmly before taking his offered arm and starting to show him around.

It was if the ice had been broken and he had been forgiven for the moment for his indiscretion. The people turned back to their conversation and their eyes left him… while he was forced to meet every available maiden, every misused matron, and disapproving dowager...

Name~ Duke of Rothsland, Earl of Summersolt . . . some more filler and titles . . . Lucien Ashford of Ravewith
Age~ 25
Eye~ Silver
Hair~ Black
History~

Lucien had grown up with every luxury known to mankind. He had traveled to every known inhabited planet and met many species of living breathing ‘aliens’. All of this had been unheard of a half century ago and the clothes they now wore unthinkable when global warming had pushed them out of earth two hundred. Life in 3267 was perfect. Food was never over or underdone. The Kindle kept everyone in contact. The English aristocracy was in effect again but no one was ‘poor’ people were just better off than others. Food was plentiful and no one starved or wanted for shelter… even if the food was crap and the shelter leaky. It was left up to the person to better himself. The government provided basic necessities (even if it was crap). Most medical sicknesses were identified and weaknesses in the human condition isolated.

Lucien had also been born to a blue blooded family and was offered the best education and the best of everything that money could buy. He was the sole heir to the Ravewith estate and the Ashford ancestral plot and Dukedom of Rothsland… if only he hadn’t stressed his mother out to the point where no medical treatment could balance her immune system. Nothing could heal her weak will and her panic attacks… and nothing could save her when she got pregnant again. After giving birth to twins she promptly died.

She died and Luc’s father became a drunk… the only shining light in the next years were Lady Caroline of Atron, a small earldom that bordered his main estate. She was the one that helped him though and to help him hide his father’s beatings. She also helped teach him cope with the loss of his mother and his siblings. They didn’t die but he was forced to send them away before his father could even think of touching them…

It was at the tender age of 17 he had been silently accused of killing his father. They were both in the same house because they had declined the same ball invitations… Luc hadn’t been with any of his lady friends, any of his guy friends, or drunk, as he liked to be around this time… it was really the only way he got along with his father anymore. Luc couldn’t wait until he turned of age and took over his grandmother’s estate. He didn’t even want the dukedom any longer. Luc wanted Ravewith.

His father had been murdered and Luc had been in his room and he hadn’t heard or noticed a thing. It didn’t matter that he was in a separate wing… all that mattered was that he was the one that sent the servants away for the day. It also didn’t matter that he was found, without a drop of blood on him, in his small library (a very grand luxury now a days: real books are almost unheard of!), asleep nor did his confronters car that Luc was utterly stunned when he heard the news. Stunned and upset. He had sometimes wished the old sod off but never did he think it would happen… and murder?

The next six months he watched as his life was ripped from him turned upside-down and shaken. They couldn’t take anything from him but they could shun him. They could glare and cast eyes and make him feel worse than dirt… they could take his one friend away from him even thought he was completely innocent in the eyes of the government. They didn’t know who had done it but Luc hadn’t. The sentence of innocent had done nothing to reassure the ton… So he left. All his houses and estates were shut down. His funds mostly handed over to a retainer and he left.

Eight years later he has returned to stop a globally known thief… because they have stolen globally and sold items without a trace… except a niggling pointer that she was a part of the Ton. He isn’t just the dark man called Lucifer behind his back he is also a invested tycoon that has built and toppled larger corporations… as well as the bright golden boy bounty hunter that has saved the day many times over called Michael. He has returned for the sole purpose of finding a culprit in a very delicate touchy situation and bringing them to justice… He has no idea what will happen when he ends up under covers and tangled up with the vary person he was going in under cover to find…


((OK! So this will be a little odd but bear with me. The story is set around a thief/brothel hostess-A Lady of mystery whom no one knows is really a member of the ton (pseudonym for the high society)- and an Under Cover bounty hunter. Crim is our leading lady! Hehe, this is called Semi-Private because there could be room for other people if me and Crim want… Pm all bios to me or her in the format of

Name~
Age~
Eye~
Hair~
History~

^^

And for explanations… I have this set actually in the future but since the global warming kicked in and is gone there was a mild ice age that blew in after. This change in climate changed the clothing type from that metallic/futuristic (usually) skimpy type of clothing wear that is in, say, The Fifth Element to the historical Stewart to Victorian petticoats and heavy dresses… hehe because it is needed to wear many layers! Make up whatever type of little gadgets but the base is something similar to the ‘Kindle’ now. A clear screen from a small notepad or makeup case size to a full on notebook or briefcase size that can send invisa-messages (IM’s or the new ‘e-mail’), voice recordings, video’s (2d, 3d, or holograms), notes (Meet me in the orchard…. ; )) or w/e. Basically the thing replaces the computer, cell phone, and there is a smaller credit card sized one that holds bank balances/credit balances or etc.

I want houses made in large grand style, I want the clothes to be elaborate, and I want there to be robot horse drawn vehicles >o<! We will deal with weapons when we have to… If all else… I want you to enjoy the read ^^!))

[Crimson-Stilletos]

((OOC: I’m tweaking a few things, Gem. I think I’m going to skip the brothel part.

Name: Lady Beatrice Quinn …no one knows if she even has a specific title or lineage, and she isn’t about to privilege that information
Age: 21
Eyes: Almond-shaped, long-lashed, with a violet hue
Hair: Thick, golden locks, set in wide curls
History:

Lady Quinn’s background is a veritable mystery, which only she holds. Although the 3200’s were supposed to be some kind of Eden, Beatrice nevertheless found herself a complete and utter orphan on the streets at 11. Of course, she could have gotten lodging through some agency, but she didn’t like the look of those boarding schools she saw advertised. Thus began her life of crime; it was steal or starve.

As a child, the trick was surprisingly easy. She would show up on the doorstep of some well-to-do family looking cherubic and lonely. They’d give her a home for a few days, but before too many questions were asked, Bea would skirt away with several valuable items. Most of them were far too embarrassed to be conned by a child to bother reporting any of the theft. And if any of their friends remarked on a lack of a familiar artifact, a servant was blamed.

This, however, didn’t last too long. After a couple of years, she began to get tired of travelling, and she wasn’t looking very angelic anymore. She had developed into a little woman without even realizing it. Unfortunately, it took a pedophilic Duke to teach her that lesson. Their wretched interaction earned her a small fortune as the family wished to do anything to keep it out of The Kindles.

Beatrice decided that she would no longer put herself in that kind of danger. No one would have ever done that to member of the ton. She enrolled herself in various foreign ‘finishing’ schools. Admittedly, it didn’t come naturally to her. She was so used to playing the poor child that being a lady seemed ridiculous. Still, she persisted to become a star pupil, an elegant debutante. Thus all she needed to do was debut.

Her schooling had cost her most of her hush money, and with the rest required to furnish her wardrobe, she was forced to acknowledge the necessity of a few heists. Though the Victorian garb was all the rage, she nevertheless found relics of the hot years to be extremely useful. Sewn together, they created what was known as a catsuit millennia ago. The sleek clothing allowed her shocking movement compared to the restricting corsets and petticoats. Breaking and entering wasn’t too difficult either for her. Most of the ton lived in gratuitously huge mansions, so it was simple to slip into an unoccupied wing and have her way with several jewels. And despite the supposed paradise, people seemed to have no problem accepting stolen jewels in exchange for money. Even if those lowlifes got arrested, they had no idea who gave them the jewels, and Beatrice’s bank account was safe.

Finally, she purchased a stately home, Rosewood, and entered society. The ton had never seen anything like her: beyond wealthy yet with no family, young and independent, and devastatingly beautiful still seemingly chaste. Suitors surrounded her and bestowed gifts unceasingly. Matrons wanted her around to seem youthful, ignorant of the fact that her presence dwarfed theirs.

It was an okay life. But it was too boring: all they did was party and spend money, then gossip about it on their goddammed Kindles. She wanted to teach them a lesson. So she pulled out her catsuit and went to town. She even faked a robbery or two of her own home, just for good measure. The ton never saw it coming. Now it was a good life. ))


Beatrice was dressing at some other young thing’s house. The girl, Alicia, had two women in to tie their bodices. She could not believe Beatrice’s color selection.

“Bea! Lavender? Where do you get off wearing these heinous hues to a social event like this? The Kindle is fairly overflown with mostly reddish colors tonight.”

Beatrice flashed a grin from betwixt plump lips. “Oh Alicia. Do you remember what I wore last party?”

Alicia fiddled with the Kindle and produced a photo. “Oh!” she gasped and instantly became flush. Beatrice had worn a scarlet gown last time. And now Alicia, herself, was encased in crimson.

“You should consult that thing before your friends. Then you wouldn’t be the same color of your dress right now…” Bea laughed and playfully swatted Alicia.

~~~~~~~~~

“Lady Beatrice Quinn of Rosewood escorted by Duke of Northington, Xavier Charles of Elysia.”

Beatrice held back the urge to smirk. Typically the more noble of a couple received their introduction first, but being the It-Girl for quite some time, she still caused snubbing. It didn’t matter, she planned on ditching the drab piece of arm-candy at her side at the first moment.

She hadn’t succeeded in dismantling him before a stranger entered the ball. She could tell instantly that he was someone famous, but she had never seen him before. They whispered something of Lucifer, though she was certain she caught the name as Lucien Ashford.

‘Ravewith…’ she thought, but nothing arrived. Begrudgingly she consulted her companion. Xavier filled her in giddily, astonished that she had no idea who he was. The story was too good to be true: rebel playboy murders father and vanishes for years. ‘Looks like a nighttime visit to Ravewith is in order.’

Finally the hostess introduced the dashing Lucien to her, and Beatrice curtsied with a smile. “Good evening, sir, I don’t believe we’ve ever been acquainted. I was a traveler, myself, at one time. Would you care to tell me all about yours while you lead me in a dance?” The question was strictly rhetorical, as she immediately left Xavier’s arm for Lucien’s. She didn’t care if the move seemed forward, her reputation was pristine. Truly, she wanted to see the faces of her champions as she mingled with this devil. Almost as good as robbing them blind, but not quite.

[Gothicbloodygem]

The moment her fingers touched his sleeve he saw Lady Judith Gainsworth in the corner of his eye. She was the ton busybody and he was sure that, in the next few moment, every one in the Ton would know the lady was dancing with Lucifer. He also knew that there was probably a pic already snapped.

He didn’t even have a chance to sigh before the music was up. His brows narrowed for a brief moment and his silver eyes glinted hard as the tones shifted smoothly from a cotillion to a waltz. Lucien’s eyes turned back down to the lady at his side as she prattled on. Something about traveling… he mentally shrugged and stiffly moved her out to the floor.

They had changed the music because they all knew they wouldn’t get many more chances to see him dance. The grande dames were the only ones who knew would remember the grace of his movement and his perfect form. The ladies he use to dance with would remember the undertones within the dance he would bring out without even trying. Every girl would ask him to dance… and he would. He liked to dance but now… no one dared to ask the devil to dance. This lady would probably be the only dance he’d get… and he would have to put up with her ceaseless chatter.

He could see her face as she looked up at him, her face tilted to the side. She must have just asked him a question. Instead of answering he moved them in proper form as the waltz smoothly transitioned from musical composition to where the crowd and couples were expected to dance. They moved as one following the steps that were breed into them from when they were young.

As the Lady repeated her question and frowned at him, expecting an answer, he pulled her close to him as they turned. “You asked the devil to dance… don’t expect him to talk…” he told her, his voice a husky whisper in her ear.

He set about the room again with her in his arms. Leading her without conscious thought he guided her through the motions of the dance. His form was perfect but he brushed against her suggestively when they moved. He held her just closer than allowed and took turns to tightly. Even though he danced the proper steps there was a candid sexuality to his movements that caused quietly shocked murmurs to rise through the crowd.

As they dances his eyes didn’t met hers. Instead he looked past her and into the crowd trying to take stock of everyone that was present. Luc also tried to decide which were the most likely candidates. Before he could come up with a complete idea of what he was up against the dance was over. They stopped right next to the man that had ‘given her’ over to him. With a finishing bow he lifted her fingers and kissed them distractedly before he was gone, bleeding back into the crowd. He had more important things to do than squire around little chits who weren’t even dressed in the most popular color of the night…

With that parting thought of the girl he headed off to the card rooms. Best place to find time source of the problems…




((Sorry it took so long! I hope you like it none the less!))