jakkob / the moth mask

jakk stared blankly down at the moth mask. he glanced between the box he'd just eagerly ripped apart, the letter, and the mask. what were moths even meant for? they really just... flew into lights and fires in a depression fashion. jakk wasn't really like that. no, he wasn't like that whatsoever! he caressed the corners of the mask gingerly as he reflected upon this, face scrunched up as he thought. to say quite the least, jakkob initially thought quite unfavourably about his theme.

as he did some more thinking, he realized that maybe moths weren't necessarily a reflection of sadness or depression, but in a sense, a reflection of determination. of achieving your goals, of living your best life, of gaining pleasure and merit. what were jakk's goals though? why, he didn't have many. he'd given up on ever becoming a ruler quite early in his years, so that surely was nothing to be determined about. he saw himself as someone determined to be seen amongst a crowd, and when he looked into the mirror he decided that he would have to do just that at this lovely little ball. a final goal for the night, he thought, was to woo somebody. he didn't quite care which gender or species, but he liked to have people falling for him.
now, he had many non-rich friends. it was a product of sneaking out and acting up often on his little island kingdom, but he wasn't quite sure what to wear. would it be better to style himself down? he looked at his mask again, its corners picking up the glare of the sun, and shook his head. determined to stand out, determined to get somebody to fall in love with him.

he knew that he had only a couple of moth broaches that he'd been given, and had nearly torn apart his entire closet in order to find them, but alas! a few decorations for his suit, that he'd decided should be relatively bland but easy to style with various jewelries and moth-like decorations.

now, jakk had always heard about imrie, growing up as a child. there was always a large magical population in his kingdom, with witches and wizards and fairies and fae running many of the market booths. but... but his encounter with a witch flashed through his mind, and he couldn't get it out of his head. cursed to never lie. he hated it, but was trying to remain optimistic that the students at the school were all as well-spirited as the royals he'd already met at roshlyn.
he knew that dark magic was... well, dark. dangerous. common. these thoughts only made him more nervous, but jakkob quickly reminded himself who he was. a social butterfly - or, moth for this event - who made friends in every room he entered! a bit of a player, a bit of a tease, a bit of a talkative guy, but not a coward! no, never some coward.

ryvyr vellevé  from imrie / the raven mask

RoleplayDuchess