Femme Fatale


Celeste Pénélope Devereux
{the object of any man's affection}



OOC: update

Flying back to America today :) unfortunately it’s 2 flights so I can’t get on until tomorrow morning. See you guys then.


OOC:

I literally have so much to do before I leave for the Bahamas so please forgive me for not being very active. I’ll try to be on as much as possible before I leave and when I get back I’ll be on regularly. Promise :}


To Do List:

  • Do diary entry
  • Write an open para

Anonymous asked:
The gentlemen took her hand gently, guiding her to the dance floor. He placed his right hand upon her waist and the other he took her hand, and began to dance. He gazed upon her shyly, not wanting her to see how he had often admired her from afar. He often spotted her in the gardens among the flowers or walking the halls of Trianon with her head down. He smiled, "How are you this evening, Mademoiselle?"

Celeste followed him out onto the floor, quickly glancing from side to side only to see if she recognized anyone. Fortunately she didn’t, which meant the masks were a success. Her dark brown eyes fell back on the gentleman before her as he finally turned and put his hands in place. Her’s did the same, one on his shoulder and the other in his hand. When she heard him ask about her evening a small smirk formed on her lips. “I’m much better now that I have someone to dance with. How are you, Monsieur?” she questioned, her french accent was beginning to show itself. Celeste’s eyes never left his, something about them seemed familiar but she couldn’t rest a finger on who they belonged to.



Anonymous asked:
The man in the green mask bowed and greeted Ms. C. Devereux. "Pardon me, Mademoiselle, but might I have the next dance?" He smiled keeping eye contact with the beautiful girl.

As Celeste made it to the bottom of the stair case she heard a voice that sounded as if it were directed towards her. With one glance she noticed a man whom she didn’t recognize due to his mask. Her lips turned up into a somewhat excited smile before she gave a subtle nod. “Why yes you may” her tone was very inviting as she stuck out her hand for him to take.


thechateau-deversailles:

As the sun began to set, so did the people of France prepare for bed and another long day of toil and work. Not at Versailles, though, at Versailles the guests were bursting with excitement at the thought of a long evening spent dancing, drinking, laughing, gambling and simply enjoying the privileged life that only those in Versailles can. Lanterns and candles were lit, the music began playing and the doors to the grand ball room were opened wide for it’s guests that were just beginning to arrive. 

Even through the thick walls of her suite, Celeste could hear the grand piano playing from the ball room. It was a beautiful melody, but unfortunately she couldn’t very well enjoy it while she was being crushed. Madeline stood behind her with an apologetic facial expression as she pulled the strings of Celeste’s corset tighter and tighter. It was very sweet of the maid to feel so poorly for her but she didn’t acknowledge her kindness aloud, she had too much pride.

After Celeste had been tucked away and could no longer breathe, she turned away from the mirror and looked at the lady maid. “the dress, Madeline” she ordered in a tone that was neither threatening nor endearing. Although the girl was a maid and her opinions were suppose to be kept to herself, Celeste could sense the disapproval of her gown choice through out her body language. Of course Celeste didn’t care what anyone thought about the leg baring, wear. She planned to wear tights but anything that showed ankle was frowned upon. Good thing she had always been immune to other people’s feelings.

The clock stuck the next hour which was already and hour past due. The ball had started long before she decided to emerge from her room, but this is what she wanted. Celeste craved attention, she needed all eyes on her and with everyone already in attendance, she’d have just that. As she approached the staircase, she took a deep breath and placed her lace mask over her eyes to hide her identity. Her dainty hand found the rail at the top of the staircase, and she slowly started to descend. The more the heads turned, the more she noticed the mixture of facial expressions. Some were envious, some were disgusted, and others were very pleased. All of which meant one thing: she had succeeded in making her statement.



Hello, I don't believe met, but I do believe we are both staying at the Grand Trianon. I am Lady Amelie Eliza Moore. :)

I don’t believe we have either, but it’s a pleasure. How are you Lady Amelie? I hope the Grand Trianon has been as wonderful to you as it has to me.