gothic · addams family · cynical · loyal · pale · dark humor · mysterious · aristocrat
The air of the gala was thick, heavy with sweet perfume and hollow laughter. Candelabra lights flickered over jeweled masks, but no shadow was as deep as the one wrapping Pericles Addams. Seated at the family table, he felt the indifference of his own kin weigh heavier than the velvet of his cape. Without a sound, he stood, shedding the mask and cap, and slipped through the crowd, his face expressionless. Outside, the night was more honest. The werewolf statue kept watch over the empty courtyard, and there was Eugene with his glass box where a dead moth rested. The young Addams approached, a spark of hope in his pale eyes. "Any report on Slurp?" he asked with barely-contained eagerness. Eugene shook his head, and the light in Pericles died. "You shouldn't be in the gala, with your parents…