Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ All My Gunslingers ❯ The Masquerade ( Chapter 2 )

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The next morning, Milly rose earlier than usual and put on some practical yet well made clothes. When going out alone she tended to like to dress informally, sometimes even putting her hair up and wearing a baseball cap, which she also did today. She liked how down-to-earth she felt when dressed like that. She ate a quick breakfast, said hello to Brad, and then went out to pick out a car. She chose the old convertible that one of her brothers had refurbished and repainted. She took the keys, hopped in, and started on her run into town.

After parking, the first place she went to was the floral shop, picking out some lilies and daisies and pansies for herself. The corsage came next, and by that time it was still a few hours before lunchtime. To pass the time, Milly stopped at a newsstand and looked at the daily paper. The headline, of course, was about the debutante ball. She stuck out her tongue when they printed her full name: Camille Anastasia Thompson. Well, it was better than Merylline Victoria Stryfe, she supposed. She bought a copy and sat down on a bench along the walkways that passed through the shopping district.

The next morning Meryl prepared a special milk and rose petal bath to soak in, already preparing. While in the tub she decided to call up another good friend, Lina. She was a bit of a tomboy, as was Meryl, and they had also gone to the same school together, even if Lina's family wasn't among the most influential.

But little did Meryl realize that Lina had also joined up the local anarchy group! Lina had been dissatisfied with her life and had found them and had eventually been accepted, though she was still not privy to some of the executive decisions, such as the actual kidnapping of the debuting kids. She knew of the plans to take over the factories and shops, however, and would be playing a part in that operation.

Meryl: So, I guess tonight's a really big thing. If anything, it'll be memorable. I don't think the last ball was this grand, since this is the first time all three families have kids coming out.

Lina: Yeah, I think you're right. <she smiled to herself> And it'll be definitely memorable. I doubt anyone's going to forget tonight.

The next morning, Wolfwood woke up bleary eyed, and decided to skip the shower and shave. He'd have to get all primped up later that afternoon for the ball anyway, so why waste time now? Throwing on his clothes, he lit a cigarette and read the complimentary hotel paper. Camille Anastasia Thompson. His assignment. Ugh. Even the name sounded erudite and pompous. He wondered if Camille even gave a thought to the people who suffered in her city as mommy and daddy bled the region's resources dry. She probably would be ugly and fake and plastic and he'd have to woo her, distract her, lure her out of the ball in order for the plan to go off without a hitch. Disgusted, he crumpled it into a ball, threw it away, then left his room. He drove the bike to the shopping district, consulting the address on the business card Rai Dei had given him. He found the shop and wandered in. Ridiculous, fifty double dollars to rent a tux for one night. And, due to the ball being that evening, he had very little to choose from. Finally, he settled on a black tux with white bow tie and white cummerbund. It was the only inoffensive combination left, he decided, probably because it made him look more like the "help" rather than an elegant guest.

Walking out of the shop, Wolfwood put on his sunglasses and headed back to the bike. Suddenly he spotted a woman sitting on a bench across the street. His heart stopped as he peered closer at the baseball cap on the woman's head...It was her, he was certain of it! He started across the street, and then stopped himself. What the hell was he thinking? He was trouble, and she was a sweet girl. What did expect to get from her in one afternoon, anyway? Girls like her wouldn't want to tarry with a guy like him, if she knew what he was about. But...she wasn't like them. Maybe she would support the cause, join him. The romantic idea appealed, but he rejected it as unrealistic. So Wolfwood turned around and hurried back towards the motorcycle.

Milly had spent a few minutes soaking up the sun as she flipped through the rest of the paper, ending with her favorite section, the comics. Within the paper's pages, though, she had read a small article about the rising populist/anarchist movements in the city. Normally they spread pamphlets and staged demonstrations, but now, the report said, they were becoming increasingly militaristic. She frowned in thought. She really couldn't blame their motives--though she distanced herself from her family's dealings, she knew that they were very rich while others lived in near squalor. She'd always thought her father a fair man, but things like this made her wonder what exactly his nature was. He always seemed to be fair with Brad and Dominique, though...

Putting the paper away, Milly lifted her head up and felt a thin sensation of being watched. She turned her head this way and that, just to make sure, when she caught the back view of a man dressed in black. Her heart soared. Could it be him again? Without thinking, she rose from her place and called over, though her voice may have been drowned by traffic.

Milly: Mr.--Wolfwood!

She paused at the edge of the street. Had he heard her? She was about to call out again when a car from traffic suddenly swerved out of control in Wolfwood's direction! Milly gasped. It was heading almost straight towards him!

Her voice did reach his ears, and Wolfwood forced himself to keep walking. He wasn't someone who would ever be allowed happiness, not after all the things he'd done, and those he was still about to do. He was pretty certain the ransom idea, however noble, wasn't going to work. And then he'd have to kill someone's daughter. He didn't relish the thought. He was an anarchist, not a terrorist. He closed his eyes against the tide of emotion that rose up in his throat. Maybe he should go talk to that girl...maybe she was his salvation in all this...she'd found a way to bridge the gap--she was friends with that rich snob he'd seen her with.

Milly: LOOK OUT!

Jumping and ducking simultaneously, Wolfwood winced as the side mirror of a car clipped his leg. He fell down, the fancy bag holding his tuxedo cushioning his fall. Unfortunately, although his body was OK, his head fell hard against the pavement, and Wolfwood blacked out.

Legato lay in bed, cranky. He didn't want to go to this stupid ball tonight. His father came in and yelled at him, telling him to get up. Deciding if he had to be awake, he may as well enjoy it, he told the maid to call for his personal massage therapist. The burly man, Monev, would give him a good working over. Just what he needed.

An hour later, Legato's father walked in the room with an angry face, holding up a small baggie full of white powder.

Mr. B: What is this young man?!

Legato looked up briefly from his position on the massage bed and then back down, ignoring his dad.

Mr. B: Do you think I was born yesterday? What will your mother say?

Legato: I took that from Mother's purse, Father.

His father sputtered, left the room railing at everything in the world, and Legato sat up, deciding his muscles had had enough. Pouting, he told the maid to bring him some ice cream and then cranked his stereo up as loud as it could go. Tonight was going to be fun, he told himself. Fun. Every hot guy in the city would be there. And he would be the best dressed.

Milly gasped, watching Wolfwood manage to dodge the main onslaught of the car but fall to the pavement. She quickly rushed over to the side of the street and looked at him frantically. No blood on the sidewalk, as far as she could tell, but he might have a concussion or...

Fumbling with her pockets, she took out her cell phone and dialed 911. Wolfwood looked unconscious and she wasn't going to take any chances. After quickly getting an ambulance dispatched, Milly knelt beside Wolfwood. People walking by stared at times, but none came forth to help. Swallowing hard, Milly tried to examine him. He was breathing all right, so CPR wasn't needed, she thought. But should she move him? She laid a hand on his back and no groan or signs of coming to came forth. Tentatively, she moved his head so that it rested in her lap and picked up his bag for him. There was no blood in the space that his head had hit, so maybe that was a good sign.

She knew the ambulance would come as quickly as possible, but she felt concerned, her fingers idly brushing his bangs without her really knowing it. When they did come, should she ride with him, just to make sure he was all right? But then it might make her late for her spiffing up, which her family wouldn't like...but between parties and human well being, she would pick the latter. She started speaking aloud, perhaps more to calm herself than anything.

Milly: Don't you worry, it'll be all right. We'll get you some first aid and then things'll be hunky dory...

Wolfwood felt something on his face, and remembered what had happened. He must have been knocked out. But he was quite comfortable now, his head resting on a nice pillow or something. As Milly's hands stroked his face, he decided maybe he was dreaming. And then when she spoke, he thought maybe he'd died and gone to heaven. He opened his eyes and saw her big blue eyes looking down at him. She had warned him about the car--she'd saved his life. He made no move to get up, but tried out his voice.

Wolfwood: Hi...

He still remembered her kiss from yesterday and definitely wouldn't complain about getting another one. But then he heard the far off wail of the ambulance, it was getting close. Surely she hadn't called for one? He couldn't risk being recognized as the outlaw he was by checking into a hospital. He struggled to sit up, much as he didn't want to leave her lap.

Milly looked down at her lap when she felt him stirring. She looked down at him to see his eyes were open and gazing right up at her. She felt her throat tighten. He was all right! Even though he'd regained consciousness, it had been a bad fall, and it wouldn't hurt to get a check-up to make sure nothing had been rattled. But the sirens seemed to agitate him into motion as he removed himself, standing up, then taking her with him.

Wolfwood: I have to go, honey. I wish I could stay here with you, but I can't...<he shook his head to clear it> Maybe we'll see each other again sometime.

She was so concerned for him that she hardly recognized that he'd called her by an endearment.

Milly: What? You just hit your head very badly! You should let them check you out...

But Wolfwood would have none of it. He stood then, pulling her up after him, and reached down for his tuxedo bag. Then, although he knew he didn't have much time, he pulled her against him. She felt the air go out of her as he pressed her to him. She could smell his skin, cigarettes and spicy outdoor smells...she felt herself blushing.

Wolfwood: Thank you for saving my life, Milly.

He kissed her then, full on the lips, unable to help himself. He hoped she wouldn't see it as pressing his advantage, but she had given him a thank you kiss the day before. She tasted like tea and chocolate. Milly was slack at first, but then began to respond, pressing back up against him as she let the lips mingle. It made her tremble inside. She was about to put her arms around him impulsively when the sirens came dangerously close. The kiss lasted much longer than was entirely proper, and Wolfwood pulled away, half-expecting a slap.

The ambulance was heading down the street and he had to get away. Smiling uncertainly at this woman, he turned and ran to his motorcycle, which was fortunately close by, and roared away, his tuxedo garment bag flapping in the breeze.

Milly stared after him but then had to deal with the ambulance guards. She told them about the accident but that the victim had not hurt himself as badly as she'd thought and had been able to get home on his own. She answered them and mollified their annoyance at being called out as best she could. When they'd left, she had to go back to sit down on the bench again. She felt her heart still pounding, remembering his taste and scent and feel, and it was only compounded when she felt a slight pang in her side and more dizziness. Darn it, another spell...she laid back her head and rode it out.

When she recovered, she took her flowers and headed back to the car. She wouldn't get lunch here today after all. She'd best get on home...she thought of Wolfwood again and smiled, a small shiver going down her spine. Now that was the kind of man she could love one day, she thought, not like the other rich snob boys.

Enter Millions Knives: the richest man on Gunsmoke with a superiority complex to match. He spends his free time whoring around with women...and occasionally men. (He's bisexual.) He also has dealings with criminal underworld, and many people know this but his money makes him virtually untouchable. In essence, he's the Kingpin of Gunsmoke. Elendira the Crimsonnail is Knives's loyal butler and bodyguard, in addition to being (of course) a transvestite. Elendira is also a closet homosexual and sometimes even finds himself ministering to Knives "desires" (so to speak). However, he's obsessed with his weight, making him somewhat anorexic and a vegetarian to boot.

Elendira knocked on the door of his Master's room, waiting patiently to be let in. Last night had been...quite eventful to say the least. However, that didn't mean he could stop showing his Master the proper respect.

Knives: <through the door> Come in.

Pushing the door open, Elendira walked in, unconsciously moving his manicured nails over his thin form. His brow creased, wondering frantically if he was getting fat. He'd only had a glass of orange juice and a piece of plain, burnt toast for breakfast. Maybe he shouldn't have eaten the toast...?

Knives: Your figure is fine, Crimsonnail.

Elendira: <inclines head> I'm sorry, sir.

Knives: <ignore him> Tell me again, Crimsonnail, why do I have to go to this ridiculous dinner party?

Elendira sighed. He'd already told Knives why a million times. Even though the fringe "benefits" of being the Plant's butler were QUITE worth it, he was growing somewhat impatient with having to tell his Master why AGAIN.

Elendira: For your public image.

Knives: Ah yes.

Knives turned to face his butler, his arctic blue eyes glinting. His gair glistened with water droplets, having just exited the shower. With only a towel wrapped around his waist, Knives slicked his hair back, the personification of supreme arrogance.

Knives: Has my suit arrived, then?

Elendira: Yes, indeed it has, sir.

Knives: <cocks a brow> Is that it?

Elendira nodded, presenting the neatly-wrapped package to Knives. The plant took it, opening the parcel, his gaze sweeping critically across the wine weave. His lips curling disdainfully, Knives narrowed his eyes at Elendira.

Knives: Prepare my transport, then. I will be ready very soon.

Elendira: <bows> Very good, then, sir.

Sweeping from the room, Elendira left Knives alone to get ready for the party. He would need a suitable outfit himself, especially if he expected to pass as Knives' date. Not that he ever had problems passing as a woman. It was, in fact, his forte.

Livio the Double Fang is now a homeless man scrounging about the filthy streets of December and has a severe case of amnesia. Wandering from place to place, he doesn't know he used to work for the Eye of Michael, one of the many branches within Knives' criminal empire, and lost his memory during the "incident" that granted him his fake arm and the tattoos on his face. Lost and confused, he is searching for his memory, unaware that there is a darker side to his personality.

Stumbling around in the dark, the man with wild, silvery hair wrapped in ragged, musty clothing fell back into a puddle, dirty water splashing onto him, soaking him to the bone. Looking blearily about, he had no idea where he was or what he was doing. Looking up, his eyes widened with shock as a motorcycle came roaring down the street. Squinting against the sudden light, he realized belatedly that the man with dark hair driving the vehicle was going to hit him if he didn't move. But his body refused to go.

Unfortunately, Wolfwood's mind was elsewhere as he rushed back to the hotel. In fact, he almost killed the homeless guy who stood immobile in the middle of the goddamn street. At the last possible minute, Wolfwood swerved, shaken at how close he'd come to hitting someone after he himself had just been mowed down.

Wolfwood: Gotta focus, dammit. For the sake of poor slobs like that.

Legato had spent most of his afternoon primping for the evening's festivities. His skin was moisturized and tan from all his time lying in the sun. His hair was carefully coiffed and his new tux fit him perfectly. Even his father, still angry about the drugs he'd found, smiled as he descended the spiral staircase into the foyer.

Mr. B: Well, you pull that off, I'm not quite sure how, but no one can say my son doesn't have style.

Mrs. B: Now, Legato, dear, do try to take this seriously. All the eligible women in New December will be there. That lovely Stryfe girl will be there. Maybe you can spend some time getting to know her.

Legato sniffed and said nothing. The limousine was waiting and the Bluesummers family rode silently to the piazza. As they exited the vehicle, Legato immediately noticed Meryl. She looked good. If he had been inclined in that direction...His father pulled him back by his arm, and handed him his mask. He'd almost forgotten they were doing that this year.

Legato: Don't wait up for me tonight.

He pulled on the mask, the elastic band tight around his head. The mask was rather intricate and very expensive. It was a beaked papier-mâché' mask, with swirls of black and white framing the edges. The good thing about it was it would keep annoying girls from trying to kiss him. The lower half of the mask left his face exposed, but the beak would keep them away. There was something decidedly phallic about it that appealed to him, and Legato moved into the crowd smiling benevolently. He was in a good mood.

Milly had returned home and ate lunch before heading upstairs with Dominique to get ready for the ball. She got into her slip and let Dominique make the final alterations to the Chiffon gown. It alternated between lighter, gold embroidery trimmed sleeves and skirt, with a darker green silk bodice. The neck was low enough to lay her shoulders bare, but only showed a little bit of cleavage, since Milly hated it when boys looked at her chest too long. Dominique then combed out Milly's hair and put it up into elaborate braids, pinning them to her head with rhinestone spangled bobby pins and then decorating them by placing small white flowers in-between the braids. Milly resisted all but a very light brushing of make up and a hint of perfume. It actually took a while for all of this to be completed, and finally Dominique stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Dominique: There. You will be the toast of the town tonight. Oh! And now for the final touch.

Dominique reached for a box and pulled out an ivory-hued domino mask, white feathers curling from one side.

Milly: What's that for?

Dominique: Oh, no one told you? This is a masquerade ball. All the debutantes will be wearing them at the beginning of the dance, along with any other who want to participate. You won't take them off till about midway.

Milly eyed the mask neutrally. Well, it would ease the initial nervousness, she figured, since people wouldn't be getting a good look at her real face. She accepted the mask and held it up to her face.

Milly: How does it look?

Dominique: It looks lovely. Now come, it's almost time to go, and Mr. Thompson promised to meet up with the Stryfes beforehand.

Milly nodded and stepped off the stool Dominique had brought into her room, gown swishing with every movement. She wondered what would happen. She'd had a few dancing lessons before, but she had a tendency to be clumsy. She hoped everything would turn out all right, and that she wouldn't end the night by being engaged to someone.

About a half hour later, the two families had met at the piazza where the ball was scheduled to be held, a large stage constructed in the midst of it. Milly immediately joined Meryl, who was a vision in lilac and white, her hem actually bejeweled and a luminous sapphire necklace accenting her décolletage. Her masque had no feathers but had sequins. All the other Stryfes and Thompsons were just as resplendent in silks, brocades, and jewels. The girls chatted to one another, each confessing that they were nervous, when Mrs. Stryfe, the MC of the ball, came and collected them.

Mrs. S: Now, girls, the other debutantes will be arriving shortly. We need to line up behind the stage in proper order for the first dance number. You each will receive a partner that you must dance with first. After that, you may dance with anyone you wish and eat until the time the debutantes are officially announced, followed by another dance. Come on, let's get ready!

Meryl and Milly shared a look as they let themselves be shuffled off. The other families and guests were arriving, and they could see the Bluesummers. Meryl pointed out Legato's tux, which was rather odd in their view but admittedly good on him. They stood side by side, peeking out to look at the guests and wondering who they would be paired with for the staged dances.

After returning to his hotel, Wolfwood showered and shaved, thinking all the while about Milly. She'd liked kissing him....she hadn't slapped him. He'd felt her heart beating rapidly against him as he'd held her close...Dammit, he had to put that girl out of his mind. He had a job to do and it wouldn't be helpful to be distracted. There was another woman he had to woo this evening, and he had better look good to be up to the task.

The tuxedo was a pretty good fit, considering how slim the selection had been. The shirt was perhaps a little too snug across his broad chest, but the jacket covered up the size issue there. After several tries, he managed to get the bow tie just right and clipped on the cummerbund. He looked in the mirror. Not too bad. Taking off the jacket, he added the final touch--his shoulder holsters and guns. Shrugging back into the jacket, they were completely hidden. Great.

Arriving at the ball on his bike, Wolfwood walked into the piazza and showed his invitation. He was given a plain black domino. Rai Dei hadn't mentioned it was going to be a masquerade...that would actually make his job a little easier.

The families and debutantes had all arrived, and the dancers milled backstage. Mrs. Stryfe was bustling about seeing that everything was ready to her satisfaction. All of the girls eyed Legato in his strange mask as he joined them, almost floating, he was so lofty in bearing. Meryl had to fight to keep a sigh from escaping. Damn it, why did the handsome ones all have to be so screwed up? Mrs. Stryfe bustled over as the DJ and musicians set up and indicated their readiness.

Mrs. S: All right, boys and girls, line up. You'll walk on two by two. Meryl, you'll be at the head of the girls' line, and you, Legato, will head the men.

Meryl's mask hid her flush, but not her dropped jaw. She couldn't believe her ill fortune. Still, she sucked it in and stood across from Legato with all the dignity she could muster. She'd do her duty and then find someone else as quick as she could. Dammit, was this some kind of sick ploy by her parents? Well, she'd show them. Her jaw went up and she summoned all her poise, handling her bouquet lightly.

Milly was paired up with a young man from the Marlon family. She was actually taller than he was, and he looked nervous. She tried to smile to ease him, but she wasn't feeling up to snuff either. She just wanted to get this over with.

Suddenly, before they knew it, Mrs. Stryfe ascended the stage, nodded to the music, and spoke into the mike, greeting everyone.>

Mrs. S: And now, to lead off the first dance of the evening, will all our debutantes please come up onto the stage!

Meryl stood next to Legato and took his arm, looking straight ahead as they went up onto the platform. She was short, but she pretended to make no mind of it as she placed herself in position. The other couples did the same haughty and nervous eyes shielded behind masks. Mrs. Stryfe signaled for the song to begin, and the debutantes used all of their breeding to perform their steps. Milly was almost a head taller than the nervous (and perhaps drunk) Marlon, but she managed to hold her own. For her own part, Meryl felt wretched but gamely hid it. It was embarrassing to be dancing with someone who only held her in contempt.

Legato, though, didn't mind being paired with Meryl--he thought she was the most acceptable-looking of all the women there. He gave her his most charming smile and danced around with her during the opening waltz. They were a handsome couple together, and he enjoyed the looks they were getting. As the music stopped, he dipped her with a flourish.

Legato: You look well tonight, Meryl.

Without another word, he moved down from the stage, on the prowl. First, a stop in the men's room for some much needed mood powder, and then, he would be invincible.

The dance had finally ended with a flourish, the girls tossing their flowers into the crowd. Milly liked her blossoms too much to throw them all away and had actually stuck some of the pansies to her hemline and added a daisy or two to her hair. Then the couples started to come down from the stage as others came up, ready to mingle.

Wolfwood had watched the dancers earnestly, attempting to pick out his quarry. Then a soft hand on his arm made him turn around quickly.

Caine stood, resplendent in a dark brown and ivory gown. Her hair was piled high on her head and she wore a plain and very large amber jewel at her throat. Wolfwood wouldn't have recognized her, if not for the fact that her mask was on a stick, and she removed it as he turned around. The sniper's normal attire hid her sex well, but there was no mistaking it tonight.

Caine: You're fitting in just fine, Chapel.

Wolfwood: Thanks. I could say the same for you. Have you picked out your "date"?

Caine tilted her head in Legato's direction as he headed off the stage. Wolfwood peered closer...there was something familiar about the man--his hair, his bearing. He couldn't put his finger on it.

Caine: Pretty boy with the beak. Legato Bluesummers. Heartbreaker, junkie, and fast driver.

Wolfwood: Should be no problem for you.

Caine: Well, rumor has it that he likes tuxes better than dresses, if you get my drift. If I have any problems <she grinned> I might need your help. You do clean up nicely.

Wolfwood: If you have any problems, you just pull your piece on the playboy. Don't involve me in any twisted triangle.

Caine laughed and pointed up at the stage.

Caine: Find yours yet?

Wolfwood: No, but I've seen that one <he pointed to Meryl> before. Is she the Thompson girl?

Caine: No, that's Meryl Stryfe. I'm afraid I can't help you find the Thompson girl. That family has so many kids, they are a walking advertisement for population control. That's one there <she pointed> and there <pointed again>. They're all over. The youngest one I think is who is debuting tonight.

Wolfwood: Yes, I read in the paper. Camille. I'll find her, don't worry.

Caine <laughing>: She won't have a chance, the way you look tonight, Chapel.

She walked over, following Legato, and Wolfwood smiled. He hoped she was right. He didn't like forcing women to do anything, even if it was for the greater good. Approaching one of the women Caine had pointed out as a Thompson, he touched her arm gently.

Wolfwood: Excuse me, I was looking for your baby sister? Could you point her out to me?

Knives swirled some blood-red wine around in his glass, taking a sip as his gaze swept over the crowd from the table he had reserved for himself before his arrival, not far away from the dance floor. He would have thought them to be a handsome bunch if not for the fact that they disgusted him. Sheep, every last one of them, not worthy of his time. Dressed in an elegant, sky blue tuxedo to accentuate his eyes, his clothing immaculate and pale blond hair spiked, Knives looked every bit the part of the richest man on the planet. He had noticed several women eyeing him all night, but he ignored them. And, Knives was pleased that Elendira successfully diverted most moves upon him.

Next to him, his legs folded neatly one over the other, Elendira sat, his long, blond hair styled, piled neatly up on his head but hidden by his tall cap, small ringlets cascading down from underneath them. His attire included black, skin-tight pants covered mostly by his lengthy, fur-cuffed coat. He had taken great care with his make-up, a pale, powdered face contrasted by ruby lips. He looked every bit the part of the woman belonging to the richest man on Gunsmoke.

He watched impassively as people stepped off onto the dance floor. Knives had already had his fair share of dancing tonight, every step with Elendira. The transvestite had enjoyed himself, certainly, but Knives hated these arduous functions with a fiery passion. However, courtesy dictated that he remain.

Knives had been glad when no one had announced his presence there. Elendira hadn't approved, of course, (since they'd come for strictly PR reasons), but Knives preferred it. He didn't feel like attracting attention tonight. It would be enough that he had come and that they press would be able to take some snapshots of him. Besides, if necessary, he could simply buy off a reporter to write a favorable piece about him. Such was the power of the double dollar.

Taking another sip of wine, Knives surveyed the crowd again. He also liked the anonymity the white mask that he had chosen to wear afforded him. It covered only the upper portion of his face, curving back and upward with slits for eyes, giving him an almost sinister look. Elendira's, on the other hand, while also white, had intricate, flowery designs on it, also covering only the upper part of his face. They were quite a pair, the two of them.

His expression bored, Knives drained the rest of his glass before setting it back down on the table, a refill appearing almost immediately. Glancing around once more, Knives cocked a brow, his gaze drawn to a young man with blue hair. Nudging Elendira, he pointed at the young man.

Knives: Who is that?

Elendira: I do believe he belongs to the Bluesummers family. Legato, I think his name is.

Knives: Legato.

The name rolled of his tongue smoothly. The word itself suggested something although he could not quite put his finger on what. And there was a woman with him...

Knives: <smiles coldly> Meryl Stryfe.

Oh, he knew that one. Yes indeed. Glancing at Elendira, he raised an eyebrow meaningfully. Elendira smiled in return, accepting the hand Knives offered him as they head out towards the young couple.

Knives: It would appear I will be doing a little more dancing after all.

Elendira made no comment on Knives' statement as they moved closer and closer to Meryl and Legato. However, before they could meet, Legato left the room for some reason. Feeling somewhat annoyed at this turn of events, Knives nevertheless continued until he reached Meryl. His voice polite, yet coolly so, he addressed her.

Knives: Miss Stryfe. How nice to see you...<he smirked> again.

Meryl had gladly watched Legato go off to have fun with his candy, though her heart was a bit softened by his compliment. She had noticed him looking around as they danced, but strangely never at the women. Her eyes widened. Could it be...? Well, why hadn't she seen it sooner? She hadn't thought much of it, but if she looked at it from that angle...why, it almost made sense. And if that was the reason, then it actually didn't hurt so much to have been rejected. And yet--why hadn't he just said so to her face? Was he ashamed? Did the Bluesummers know? An eyebrow arched up. It didn't seem they did, or at least wouldn't acknowledge it. And if that was so, then she had a one-up on Legato, in a sense. She wasn't so callous as to immediately hang it over his head, but if he ever annoyed her again...plus, she still could be mistaken.

She was absorbed in these revelations as she took a bit of finger food from the table that she didn't notice the pair coming until it was too late. As Knives addressed her, she nearly choked. She knew that voice. Turning slowly, glad for the mask, she saw him. Knives...and that 'woman' Elendira. Meryl scowled. Was he trying to rub it in? That he'd discarded her for a transvestite? Meryl drew herself up regally.

Meryl: Mr. Knives. The pleasure is mine, let me assure you. I didn't know you'd be coming tonight. And your date is rather fetching, too. What is the occasion? Surely you didn't just come for the dancing and food!

Knives lips curled upwards at that statement. Ah, she was still as feisty as ever. While that had been what first attracted him to her, it had also been what had led him to discard her. She was still as lovely as ever, though, certainly a step up from what most brothels had to offer.

Knives: Ah yes. You've met Elendira before, I do believe. <He waved a hand dismissively.> As for the occasion, a party is a party, a place where people drown themselves in fantasies of happiness and grandeur as opposed to facing the harsh realities of everyday life. I <he grinned lopsidedly> am simply an observer. And naturally <he shrugged> I must make public appearances now and then. I'm sure you understand.

Elendira shifted slightly at Knives' elbow, enjoying himself immensely as he smiled pleasantly at Meryl. Yes, being Millions Knives' butler had GREAT benefits. Meryl bit back a litany of acid remarks waiting on her tongue, instead settling for glaring at them, but mostly at Elendira. That smug smile! Meryl wanted to clobber him...her. She folded her arms and took in a breath.

Meryl: Yes, I understand how necessary it is to project a certain image. You can fool more people faster that way if you're in their eyes all the time. And you're right, it's a silly occasion, but I have to deal with it. You didn't have to come.

Knives's grin widened. He did so enjoy ruffling her feathers. That had been the best part of their relationship, the witty repartee. Sadly, most were not up to it like Meryl was. Still, he made do.

Knives: Not come? Come now, how could I stay away? THe opportunity to watch fools act like fools is too amusing to pass up.

Then Meryl saw Legato coming towards them, his eyes fixed on Knives. Meryl couldn't help smile sardonically. She had a feeling she knew what was coming. Oh, if only her parents could see this. Oh well.

Meanwhile, Milly had danced with young Marlon and also went to get some hors d'ouvres, she really liked the salmon puffs. Her sister Carrie, whom Wolfwood had addressed, looked at the young man and almost thought him a waiter, save for the domino. She arched an eyebrow but pointed over to the tables.

Carrie: That's her, over there, in the green. I suppose she'll agree to dance with you, she's kind like that.

Carrie then turned away to chat with her friends again. Biting back the angry words that came to his lips, Wolfwood nodded in thanks and headed towards the direction Carrie had indicated. These people were absolutely insufferable. He steeled himself as he approached the woman in green, taking in the gems in her hair and the gold around her dress. There were flowers tucked into the waist, a strange addition that somehow softened the effect of the expensive gown. Milly had taken a sip of her punch and tasted the tang of alcohol. Wolfwood also noticed a man nearby tossing money in the air. This was exactly the sort of thing that so enraged him about these people. It wasn't enough to have such a huge disparity between the upper and lower classes, they had to literally throw money around. What a disgusting display.

He came up behind the girl's ear and whispered over her shoulder, trying to sound as seductive as possible.

Wolfwood: If I wasn't so awed by your loveliness, I might beg for the favor of a dance.

The low, purring voice suddenly hovered nearly Milly's ear, but she didn't turn immediately. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it because it had a timbre she couldn't recognize. She stared at her punch, taken off guard, but she had to socialize and do her parents proud. Normally she was cheerful and talkative at times, but this was a bit out of her element. Still, she had to try.

Milly: Well, you don't seem to be to terribly awed that you aren't afraid to ask! Yes, I'd love to dance.

She turned and set down her emptied drink on the table, the spiked punch giving her some courage. And it was the last she'd have for a while because Midvalley finished off the entire bowl, which was a feat. Milly wondered what the state of his liver must have been. She gave Wolfwood a small curtsy and placed her hands on his shoulders as the music started up a new song. She focused on him more completely as they danced. There was something so familiar about him. If it weren't for that domino...

As for Wolfwood, he smiled as he whisked Milly away on to the dance floor. There was something strange about this girl, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Was it her voice? She sounded...almost...Although he was on the verge of revelation, he was too focused on the music and surroundings to figure it out. Instead, he only smiled emptily at Milly and pulled her a little closer. He glanced at the moon above. It was almost time for the plan to go into motion. Across the floor, he saw Caine moving towards the Bluesummers man. His partner was looking at him intently and so he moved his head alongside hers, to avoid eye contact. It was making him uncomfortable. He continued dancing with his lips by her ear.

Milly: So, who might you be? You're a very good dancer!

Wolfwood: Thank you. It's kind of you to say so, Camille. Might I be so bold as to call you that? And I'm sorry, my name escapes me, but it's only because my world has suddenly become defined only in relation to you. What do you want my name to be? Tell me, and then we both shall know.

It was a bit unsettling to hear her full first name spoken by a complete stranger, even though it had been in the papers. Yes, distant acquaintances and first time meetings did call her that name, but she was so used to Milly it almost seemed foreign. She suppressed a sigh. She might as well get used to it. But her mind turned over his words and she felt extremely flattered. Surely he was just joking, but it was nice. She gave him a grin and tapped her fingers along his shoulder playfully.

Milly: Yes, you may call me that, though it's not the name I usually go by. And I'm sure your name will come back to you in time, but for the moment, let's just say your name is--<she paused> Mr. Black. I know, cheesy, but it suits you...Mr. Black.

Mr. Black? Wolfwood quirked an eyebrow at that. He sort of liked it, actually, and smiled at Milly's playful manner. He'd expected her to christen him something petty and slavish, but Mr. Black would do just fine. Little did he know she actually wanted to call him something silly and cute, but it wouldn't fit the atmosphere right now. They continued to dance, quite close, and Milly couldn't quite put her finger on it because of all the noise and bustle about, but there was something familiar about this man. Underneath the smells of the food on the tables, she almost swore she could detect a hint of cigarette smoke and spice...

Milly: So, what brings you here, Mr. Black? Do you know any of the other debutantes? For fun?

After she'd asked her question, however, the Marlon boy came over, intending to cut in. He was still fairly nervous and she had been friendly, so maybe if he got another dance from her, he'd get more courage.

Legato exited the bathroom, pinching his nose briefly, and swept back onto the dance floor, deftly avoiding the scores of women who tried to intercept him. He hadn't seen anyone of interest, only a very drunk Midvalley tossing double dollars in the air. He'd just about given up on finding a "date" and decided to head back towards Meryl.

Suddenly, time stood still.

The man was wearing a light blue tuxedo that paled in contrast to the depths of his aqua eyes, and his almost-white hair was spiked fashionably. He was engaged in conversation with Meryl, but seemed to be accompanied by a tawdry-looking woman. Upon closer inspection, Legato thought there was something wrong with the female's hips...her legs...His eyes widened as he realized the "she" wasn't a woman at all. But then...Did that mean this man was gay? Or just liked hanging around queens? Legato swallowed hard and moved to the punch bowl, grabbing two cups and then heading back over to where Meryl was speaking with the man, handing the punch to him.

Legato: I don't believe I've had the pleasure, Mister...?

Knives turned, his gaze zeroing in on the Legato Bluesummers, who had apparently returned from wherever he had gone. Graciously, Knives accepted the punch, sniffing it once. It was spiked. Not that it mattered of course. Knives never got drunk.

Knives: Knives. Millions Knives. And you're Legato Bluesummers. <He raised his glass to Legato.> Such a pleasure.

Elendira watched the scene unfold through narrowed eyes, growing more dissatisfied by the minute. However, seeing that Knives was otherwise engaged at the moment, he excused himself, saying he felt like sitting. So, he fetched himself some punch and sat, simmering silently. There was just something about that Bluesummers guy that he couldn't abide.

After Legato had introduced himself, Meryl found it best to simply smile and move out of the way. Legato would have his work cut out for him if Knives had already come with a...date.

Meryl: Well, I must excuse myself. Have fun...Knives. I'm always ready to give a pity dance if you need one.

Before Knives could get in the last word, she flounced off, chin high, and looked around for a proper dance partner. The plant grinned crookedly. Yes, that was one he hadn't been able to subdue. It was unfortunate. She would have been the prize of his collection. Legato watched with disdain as Meryl insulted this magnificent creature before him and thought the man did well to ignore her incredibly ill-bred manner. But never mind that now. Looking at Legato once more, Knives smiled wryly.

Sensing a mutual appreciation in the pale-haired gentleman, Legato nodded and clinked his punch glass against Knives'.

Legato: It doesn't exactly impress the palate. However, if it's physical pleasures, you're looking for, I have other...stimulants to offer.

Knives cocked a brow. This man had practically read his mind regarding the spiked punch. As for the latter part, the offer was hardly...discreet. Knives' lips quirked upward slightly. It would be too easy to accept now. Yes, he could wait.

Just then Caine sidled up alongside Legato, her willowy figure pressed close as she laid a hand on his arm.

Caine: Excuse me, Legato, but your mother simply won't leave me alone until I dance with you, just once.

She smiled apologetically at Knives.

Caine: I promise not to keep you from your intriguing companion a second longer than necessary.

He scrutinized the woman before him. Knives couldn't put his finger on it, but she seemed familiar somehow. He'd never met her before, of course, but she reminded him of someone, perhaps a person he'd seen on the news or the like. Determining that she wasn't worthy of his time, he merely smiled pleasantly, inclining his head. Knives nodded, somewhat bemused now despite his irritation at the interruption.

Knives: Very well, then. Return him as soon a possible, though. We haven't finished our discussion.

He met Legato's gaze for a moment before turning and walking away, seating himself next to Elendira. Noting the transvestite's petulant expression, Knives rand a finger along his shoulder.

Knives: What is it?

Elendira: I don't like him.

Knives: <chuckles> I see.

Elendira: I'm sure you saw the way he looked at you.

Knives: Indeed I did. <He smirked.> And that is what will make toying with him...interesting.

Meryl had flounced her way back to the newly refilled punch bowl, tasted it and found it wasn't spiked yet. Pity. She downed it anyway, keeping one eye on Knives and his new companions. Even from this distance she could feel the tension between the three. She grinned. Knives may have thrived on complicated chains of relationships, but perhaps this would give him more than he bargained for.

Finishing up her drink, seeing the look of disapproval from her mother, Meryl rolled her eyes and joined the dancers, looking for another partner so she could at least claim to be trying to look for prospects.

It was the perfect opportunity for the remaining operative. Zazie the Beast, in the body of a soap opera hunk that vaguely resembled Brad Bit, had been dancing his way around the room. He was slowly working his way ever so closer to Meryl. Then he saw his chance. She was also by the punch bowl. He moved in and gently took her hand, kissing it.

Zazie: Might I have this dance?

Meryl looked up at the tall, blonde man standing before her. Through the slits of his mask she thought she could see the hint of tiger-striped purple eyes. It was rather startling, but also intriguing. Meryl looked around and saw no other dancers that appealed to her like this one. Why not?

Meryl: You certainly may.

She let him lead her into the dancing. She wondered what his story was, and why he was here--she never recalled seeing him at any functions before. Somehow the pure anonymity was pleasing to her; she didn't have to put on any special face for him. She let her skirt twirl as she was dipped and spun.

Meryl: Thanks for dancing with me. I would have died from boredom if not for you.

She continued to dance with him, having fun now, and the minutes quickly slipped away.

Zazie: So happy I could help, beautiful stranger. <he tugged her hand a bit eagerly, leading her after Wolfwood and Milly> What do you think about ditching this funeral? I'd rather dance with you somewhere a little more romantic than this meat market.

Like his cohorts, he would eventually woo Meryl out the door. And he had a weapon and would use it if he encountered any resistance. But Meryl had seen a few other stray couples leave the piazza, intending God knew what, so she didn't have much compunction against leaving either. The glitter was all right, but it was boring and this man was handsome. She'd learned her lesson from being with Knives, but she saw no harm in continuing to flirt with him.

Meryl: That sounds all right. I didn't want to come here in the first place.

Zazie <laughs>: I don't think anyone did. C'mon, let's split.

Grinning, Zazie led Meryl to his car, opened the door for her, and waited for her to get in. They would be at the rendezvous in a few minutes.

Caine smiled pleasantly and took Legato's hand, drawing him onto the dance floor and quickly whirling him away from the main crowd.

Legato: That was really quite annoying, miss. And I don't even know you. And I somehow doubt my mother would have encouraged this....

Caine laughed, low and soft in her throat.

Caine: Oh, come come, Legato, you can't blame a girl for trying...even if...

Legato <annoyed>: What?

Caine: Even if she doesn't have the right equipment.

She was leading, a fact which annoyed Legato even more. He was about to protest, and leave her cold for her remark, when they moved into an area near the stage. Legato froze a moment as he thought he saw someone familiar...that man, dancing with Milly Thompson. Something about his comportment, his cheekbones. Suddenly he wanted to get a better look, Knives was, for the moment, forgotten.

Legato: Who is that?

Caine: He's not your type, sweetie, but I am sure I could arrange a private meeting.

Legato allowed his mind to reflect a moment. It really did look like….that guy. And in fact, it was. Once, when Wolfwood was a teenager, he had suffered a momentary lapse of drunken judgment and, although staunchly heterosexual, got trashed on alcohol and drugs and wound up sleeping in the same tent with a young blue-haired man he met in the desert at a religious commune. They never knew each other's names. Of course it had been Legato, rebelling against his parents at age 14 by running away for a week to a crazy cult. Wolfwood was just passing through. When they woke up snuggled together, Legato, having a crush, allowed Wolfwood to think something significant had transpired. Wolfwood, overwhelmed with shame at something that had never happened, spurned the boy and left. Legato vowed if he ever saw the man again he'd kill him for rejecting his advances. Wolfwood has tried to forget it ever happened (and of course, it never did). Nothing untoward had occurred…

Legato: What's his name?

Caine: You'll have an opportunity to ask him yourself, here in a minute. I'll introduce you properly. Just finish the dance with me, and you can have the next one with him.

Legato strained to see Wolfwood and made sure he kept the man in his line of sight. It just might be that ungrateful bastard from so many years ago. With the mask on, it was too hard to tell. But midnight was fast approaching, and then everyone's face would be revealed. The plastic masks tossed away and replaced by the ones made of skin, equally opaque.

The timid young man attempted to cut in and Wolfwood whisked Milly away, ignoring him. He was not about to give her up, and he noticed Caine had made her move on Legato. Soon Lina would make the announcement and then they all would abscond with their hostages.

Wolfwood: Forgive me for monopolizing you, it's just I'm already terribly jealous at the thought of you anyone else's arms, and we've only had one dance.

He skillfully danced them closer to the stage area, where the back exit would be easily accessible. His motorcycle would be waiting. He remembered he hadn't answered her question.

Wolfwood: I came here for you, Camille. You are the only person here that matters to me tonight.

Milly had to laugh, feeling a touch giddy. His words were charming and she detected some kind of spice behind them, though she would have been shocked to have realized that they came from scorn and not real admiration. She was having a better time than she expected; Mr. Black was a remarkably good dancer. Oddly Wolfwood found himself smiling. Her laugh was a nice sound. Shaking it off, he forced himself to concentrate. He didn't like this woman, she represented everything he detested about society. And it was almost time.

Milly: Once again, you're giving me too much credit. But I'm not complaining, Mr. Black.

Dancing cheek to cheek, Wolfwood remained silent, inhaling the fragrance of her hair and nodding slightly to Caine, who danced closer to him with Legato.

Milly noticed she was getting a few envious stares from other dancers. She almost did a double take. Was that Legato? Wow, he had gotten lots closer to them than she'd realized. She gave him a polite smile and turned her attention back to her partner.

Legato: What are you doing? We'll be entirely off the dance floor in a minute if you keep heading this way.

Caine grinned, tossing her hair and gripping Legato tightly.

Caine: I heard you had some happy stuff that you were willing to share? Maybe we could partake outside of the piazza?

It had been an hour or so since he'd last blasted some, Legato thought. He nodded and allowed her to lead him ever closer to the edge, passing Wolfwood and glaring intently at the man, who, fortunately, was preoccupied with looking for Meryl Stryfe and didn't notice his former...companion. Legato and Caine were out. Wolfwood felt confident that the sniper could take any rich poof at close range if necessary. Perhaps the man would be so coked out of his mind he wouldn't even be aware of the drama about to unfold.

Zazie danced Meryl over to the same corner with the other couples, dipping and whirling her so she barely had time to register what direction in which they were moving. Just then, the music stopped and Lina took the stage. Wolfwood pulled Milly gently towards the exit behind the stage as Lina began speaking.

Wolfwood: Fair Camille, your Mr. Black would like to take off his mask with you in a more secluded location.

He led her purposefully, so if she resisted he would continue moving her to his motorcycle. They all would regroup at the rendezvous point less than two iles away, and await word on the ransom success (or failure).

Milly felt a bit nervous; she was unsure, no matter how charming and handsome this stranger was. But before she could find a way to excuse herself, she felt the tingling come back into her head and her side actually ached a little. She was so distracted that she felt an out of the way place to take a breather would be nice.

And now Lina stopped in front of the microphone. It was almost time. She cleared her throat, unable to keep all her nerves down, and signaled for the music to stop.

Lina: I hate to interrupt, everyone, but now we come to one of the most important events of the night--the unmasking! In a few moments, on a signal, everyone is to take off their masks and the debutantes come to the stage so they can be announced officially.

The girl smiled down at all of them, hoping this would go off without a hitch. Lina quickly looked around and saw that things were falling into place. She couldn't help but worry about the debutantes, though, especially Meryl, whose companion was a man only Rai-Dei knew. She hoped he was trustworthy and wouldn't hurt them. Taking a deep breath, making sure the signs were ready, she spoke into the microphone again.

Lina: All right, debutantes, ladies and gentlemen, it is almost time for the unmasking. If you'll direct your attention to the clock tower on the far end of the piazza, we can start the midnight countdown!

The crowd turned, eyes fixed on the luminous clock face, and when the second hand reached ten the crowd began to count at Lina's direction.

3...2...1!!

And with that, the lights around the piazza suddenly plunged the place into darkness.

Next time: Kidnapped!