valerian – Page 2 – Longest Night Midwinter Masque

Masque Prep Fanfic: Rosanna Baphinol nó Valerian

Almost from the moment the rumor began of an Official Consort to the Dauphin Mont Nuit had been aflame with questions. Supposedly said potential Consort was a close friend of hers, therefore to gossiping minds Rosanna just had to know all the details of how and why and when this affair had begun. Not that Rosanna would ever tell, of course. But with the future King choosing to shy away from the biggest party of the year, well the queries had started to arrive in more and more imaginative forms.

“A donation to the construction of a new shrine?” Rosanna rolled her eyes and continued to look over the collection of masks laid out for her inspection.

“So they say,” her Second replied with a shrug. Tryphosa made a note of who sent that letter and went back to sorting the growing stack of correspondence. “As though we need a new one. Besides, where would we put it? And in return for information on Lady Dahlia’s particular favorite gifts?”

“They are desperate to ingratiate themselves to her inner circle, if the rumors are true. As though I would give them anything.” She examined a mask covered in peacock feathers. “Besides, it’s more fun to watch them wriggle and guess.”

“Are you sure Mandrake didn’t bid for your marque?”

“Not at all. I just like the games of court and Odilia is giving them the spectator sport of their lives. A member of the Court of Night Blooming Flowers maybe becoming Royal Consort? And not a Cereus? It’s a scandal and I love a good scandal.” No, that mask wouldn’t do, she returned it to the pile and continued looking through the choices. One caught her eye, it was made up entirely of the most delicate, silver chains she had ever seen. silver chain masque It took both hands to hold it up properly, the metal glittering in the candlelight. Oh yes.

“Do you think he’ll be a good king?” Tryphosa leaned back on the settee, a lock of platinum hair falling becomingly across her face. Rosanna looked at her over her shoulder, studying her friend and Second. “What with his brother passing away so unexpectedly, the whole country turned on its head for months in mourning and gossip.”

“I admit I wasn’t ready when I had to take up being Dowayne,” she replied and held up the mask to her face. Even if her costume had been complete for some time she had yet to find just the right mask to complete her disguise. It all felt rather like a metaphor to life in court – any court. “My predecessor did leave quite suddenly, I thought I had more time to prepare for this. I imagine it was similar for him, on a far greater scale mind you.”

“But your family is, well,” Tryphosa waved her hand looking for just the right word to describe Rosanna’s huge family.

“Overbearing?”

“Rich is more what I was going for. Well connected is polite. They expected you to make Dowayne one day, so did you and never hid it.”

“True,” Rosanna gave a laugh. “But an assertive Valerian? It sounds like an oxymoron doesn’t it? But as the youngest in a brood I never wanted to end up in my siblings’ collective shadows, so I do not think I can be blamed for pushing ahead. No matter how impromptu my promotion came.”

“Maybe the Dauphin is like that too. He’s so sweet, from what I’ve heard, perhaps people underestimate him. Does your friend hint at any of that?”

“If I am not going to hand over pillow talk to a high paying patron why would I give it to you?”

Tryphosa threw a pillow and Rosanna just barely ducked in time.

“Resorting to violence? Now who belongs in Mandrake?”

To be completely honest the girlish play was soothing. Rosanna did know quite a lot, enough to worry her over just what sort of traps the court was placing for her friend and the Dahlia’s golden prince. Being born into the nobility herself, she knew just how vicious the landed class could be. But she had faith in the Precept, which she held steadfast in her heart, and that Blessed Elua would be watching over them all on this holy night. Such devoted thoughts were cut short by the touch of a flesh and blood hand on her shoulder, and Rosanna pulled herself together.

“Oh hush,” Tryphosa grinned despite not getting the gossip she desired. “Are you done picking your mask? We have a ball to get to.”

Read the story of our Masque here and submit your fanfic story.

Same Day Dungeon Tickets for the Kink-Curious

If you’re curious about the dungeon, but not totally sure about it, don’t worry. This year, you can scope out the Dungeon and then decide to buy a ticket on the day of the Masque.

Our Dungeon Introduction will take place at 6pm on Saturday evening and is open to all ticket holders who have already checked in to the Masque. Same Day Dungeon Tickets are $25 and will give you access to the Dungeon 9pm – midnight. Holders of Presale Dungeon Tickets have access to the Dungeon 8pm – midnight. These Same Day tickets can only be purchased at Masque Check In and only after the end of the Dungeon Introduction.

So if the Kushiel’s Legacy is your first foray into the world of the “sharper pleasures,” check out our Dungeon, meet our DMs (Dungeon Monitors), and then decide if you want this limited access ticket.

If you have questions or concerns ahead of time, please feel free to email dungeon@thelongestnightmasque.com and our crack team of “dungeoneers” will be happy to help you out.

Sounds of Pleasures at Valerian House

One approaches Valerian House up a long path, flanked on either side by tall and ancient trees. This gives the manse a feel of seclusion, of secrecy, of hidden delights sampled by only the daring. Two adepts greet the visitor, one male and one female – both bare of any raiment. The walls of the salon are decorated with fine tapestries, woven with scenes from dreams and myth. Carnality is the theme, a hint of things to come. Once one descends into the pleasure chambers, the eye catches an unusual sight – for newcomers – in a place of Namaah’s servants. “There was an altar to Kushiel there; a niche with a raised dais and a bronze sculpture contained within, an offering bowl on the dais at his feet.” Valerian House is dimly lit, with lush tones of blood red and accents of black from the chaise cushions to the carving on the dungeon furniture. Nothing is left to the imagination, or the feast for the eyes.

As the patron wanders through the halls, past the private rooms and public salons, one hears things. First comes the refrains of musicians. Pleasures of the flesh cannot always be left in utter silence, setting a mood can often be perfected with just the right strum of a harp or the beat of a drum. Such songs in Valerian House are enjoyed in minor keys, with a dark kind of tone to them, we like it that way. Once the songs fade away, and the reverberations of happy patrons and enthralled courtesans fill the ear. Cracks of whips, cries of pain-laced ecstasy, the rattle of chains, a snap of the flogger, they echo from the dungeons and the bed chambers. Sometimes they are matched to the beat of a song, other times they are enacted in the total absence of any other sound, depriving the senses of all but the assignation at hand.

Upon entering the manse patrons first notice a floral scent faint by the door, which became stronger and more intoxicating as one walks deeper through the halls towards the receiving room. Once inside the receiving room, and pleasure chambers, the floral scent becomes secondary to the mix of frankincense and cinnamon. This reminds patrons of both the sweetness and the spice to be found when seeking pleasure inside the walls of Valerian. The many offerings on the altar of Kushiel add to the potent blend arousing one with anticipation.

The fragrance in the air is so heady an earthy flavour is left in the mouth, heavy and satisfying which is complimented by the rich flavour of the Namarrese wine offered to patrons in the receiving room while awaiting to choose an adept. Should a patron choose to enjoy the lesson all Valerian adepts know well they may indulge in a spiced candy with their wine and savour how the spicy pain leads to greater pleasure.

All Houses of the Night Court thrive off the sensation of touch – it is why patrons attend them. To feel, to experience, to become lost in the little kingdom which worshipped and frolicked in the name of pleasure. In Valerian House one expects pain to be the feeling most felt, at least by those adepts and courtesans who call the place home. Stings from crops, welts from whips, bites and soothing caresses mingle and intoxicate the senses. Cool leather laid in one’s hand was soft despite its ability to sting; wood can be rough but is strong and useful when used to prop up a lover. But not everything is hurt and discomfort. Velvet chaises cradle sated occupants, soft and rich in texture, with feathery cushions beneath. Silky beds awaited a tired patron, and sweet kisses pressed like butterfly wings to warmed skin.

By the time a patron leaves Valerian House, whether one has stayed the night or but a few hours, every detail of the visit has been carefully and lovingly crafted. No element is too insignificant, for the sensations bestowed on the patrons are the delight of those who practice their craft here.