Masquerade! - Part 1/5

Posted on 28 Feb 2015 @ 4:47am by Verity Thorne & EMH Mark X-C "Shirley" & Lieutenant Oren Idris Ph.D. & Lieutenant Aria Rice & Commander Allyndra illm Warraquim & Petty Officer 3rd Class Ellsworth Hudson & Commander Andreus Kohl & Lieutenant Commander Amynta Markos & Chief Warrant Officer 3 Alexion Wylde

3,682 words; about a 18 minute read

Mission: Episode 07 - Sojourn
Location: Starbase 84 - Holosuite
Timeline: MD 07 - 2000

ON:

No one could say that being a Chaplain didn't have moments of fun.

Pausing to admire his preparations, Verity Thorne smiled warmly at the transformation of the holosuite he'd booked.

The sun was sinking low in the evening sky, casting a warm glow across the extensive, paved garden outside of the mansion house that was there for decoration more than anything else. The party had been set up in the large, lush grounds of the estate....tables with food and drink surrounded the paved square that remained clear for mingling and dancing, as well as tall lamps of fire standing in a large circle around their paved area for when the sun had set and they were left under the night sky.

The chamber orchestra was set up on a wide step at the end of the square against the mansion, and there were seats scattered around the edges....for those who didn't fancy kicking their shoes off and lying on the cool grass further out in the grounds once the refreshments kicked in.

All in all, it seemed that growing up in a family of Generals, politicians and civil service had one small advantage....Verity knew how to throw a party.

The invitations had gone out to the crew as they had approached the starbase, to give them plenty of time to prepare for the dress code; formal Masquerade.

Verity was already sporting his costume. An 18th century pirate from Earth, complete with long hair, tricorn hat, a long line midnight blue waistcoat, a long-sleeved white lace up shirt, breeches, knee-high boots and finished with a sash around the waist with pistol and cutlass. And of course, a blue velvet mask that was tied in place to cover from his forehead down to the tip of his nose.

Verity took a final look around before glancing to the time with a small smile, his blue eyes shining. He nodded for the doors to open and the music to start, two holographic servants ready on either side of the door with spare masks in case anyone forgot. After all, the one rule of Masquerade was for everyone to hide behind their mask, for one night at least.

The EMH had decided her presence at a masquerade ball, although not strictly required, would likely be a useful one. There was no way that she could become inebriated by the ingestion of alcohol, and there equally was no chance of her becoming injured as long as she kept her holomatrix as soft rather than hard light - an interesting term of course with light not possessing mass, but accurate enough for most understanding.

Her holomatrix had also been easy to reform, and after a brief consultation with the starbase's historical database, she had finally decided on a suitable outfit. Of course having her new female avatar had made the selection choice a little more complicated - as she now had to worry about shoes, underwear, her outfit and of course her makeup, but with the ability to process teraquads of data simultaneously, what would have taken an organic female weeks to decide upon, had been completed in only a few seconds.

Thus after a few moments in the pattern buffer, the EMH materialised in the designated holosuite complete in an 18th century ballgown, the kind that would have made any debonaire woman of the time green with envy. Not satisfied with the simple wench or female pirate regalia, the hologram had instead elected for a red gown, complete with layered skirts and a corsetted back, designed to show off her svelte new figure, and of course, as was mandatory at these events, her rather well-proportioned photonic cleavage. The front bore a simple design, echoing the corsetted back, but with a cream modesty panel adequately sewn into place. Completed with rather substantial hair piled on top of her holographic head, the photonic doctor looked every inch the 18th century damsel.

T'Vanna waited outside the holodeck, taking small breaths because the corset was drawn around her quite tight. How was she going to dance, when she could barely breathe? She looked around, waiting patiently for her date to arrive.

As moment passed when she felt a pair of arms slip around her waist and the familiar scent of Oren's perfume filling her senses.

"My, my, what's a beautiful woman like yourself doing here without a date?" he purred before moving to stand in front of her while keeping one arm still around her corseted waist. Oren's outfit matched hers perfectly. The shirt tunic he wore was Tyrian purple velvet with silver and ebony clasps closing the front and ending up in a mandarin collar. Black lace piping accented the purple, the lace around the collar blending seamlessly onto the lower part of Oren's face and into the mask covering the top half.

Eyes peering through her own mask, the Vulcan woman smiled brightly as she disentangled herself from the semi embrace and held him at arm's length for a moment. "Oren!" she exclaimed happily, "my...don't you clean up nice, you look absolutely dashing. I'll have to be careful no-one takes off with my date now, don't I?" She pulled him closer again, replacing his arm around her waist. "Shall we go inside?"

"Of course!" Oren said with a curt nod before holding his arm out to his date. "And don't worry, apart from a dance I promised Ellsworth, you have my undivided attention for the entire night," he assured her, kissing her hand gently.

"You're a true gentleman," T'Vanna chuckled.

Aria Rice, although with her hair up under the hat, a black lace mask on and a dress made famous in Gone with the Wind, brushed past T'Vanna, not seemingly noticing her. Aria was used to corsets. She entered the holodeck, looking around with awe, reaching to undo the satin band that kept her green hat on her. "Oh..." she turned around, quickly, the heavy green dress moving with her for each delicate step.

Allyndra had already figured out what costume to wear. It was easy when dealing with these sort of fantasy dress up affairs that humans tended to love. She felt a little funny walking down the hallway in the getup but then there would be others as well and so she just took a deep breath and continued. When one had one and half meter long wings there was only so much one could do but luckily human and even a few others had a history of something like fairies. Allyndra had been loath to cut her Trellium silk gown but figured she could be the Guild for a replacement later.
The material had been cut to sit just around her breasts and down low on the back.

The hem cut in a diagonal starting high on the left thigh and dipping to end just above the knee on the right and with vertical cuts to make it flutter slightly. Strips of the material had been made into ties which would around her waist and trailed.

A bit more of the material had been used to cover light slippers. The silk caught the light and then shimmered in cascading rainbows through the material Allyndra had dusted her wings with powdered crystal and they caught the light as well. One her head she had a thin silver circlet than twined in an elaborate way. A wand was clutched in her right hand and then on her face was a mask in silver and all embroidered with silver thread and crystal. She doubted though it would do much to really hide her identity. Finally reaching the deck, she passed by a woman in a beautiful gown and was pretty sure she knew who it was and smiled. As the doors opened she figured to complete the look and with a little hop took to the air hovering a few feet off the floor.

Ellsworth lived for this type of thing, and he'd spent days and days designing and redesigning the perfect outfit. His research on masquerades had led him to discover the Carnival of Venice, and he'd used that as a jumping point for his own costume. He'd chosen a columbina-type mask that covered only his eyes, nose and upper cheeks made out of a porcelain-like material and overlayed with a heavily filigreed golden fan-like attachment studded with some sort of flashy jewels. His outfit was no less ostentatious: all white and gold with a high-collar designed to make him look part Venetian noble, part military officer. Now that he was here, he immediately stepped off to the side, pressed himself against the wall and began going through the enjoyable tasks of observing and silently critiquing everyone's costumes.

Skulking along that same wall, Andreus Kohl came to a halt when he nearly strode into Ellsworth. His own costume had severely limited his peripheral vision, and what a vision Ellsworth was. Perhaps it was all the time Kohl had been spending wearing disguises with Tuula, but Kohl and been inclined to clothe himself as a steampunk gentleman. Rust-brown suit trousers hugged his thighs. He was wearing his motor-assist bands over his trousers on his thighs and his calfs, but they had been modified in design. The straps were thicker, and made from brown leather and brass fittings. Similarly, his knee-high boots were studded with brassy buttons up the length of them. Kohl wore a waistcoat to match his trousers, but in a lighter shade. A pocket watch hung from his waistcoat by a chain, and its face displayed an LCARS interface. Kohl's right arm was bare, while his left arm was encased in a series of coppery armour plates. The armour plating was shaped most boldly at the shoulder, and the interlocking plates tapered down to a slender wrist guard.

Over his eyes, Kohl wore goggles made from perfect circles of rose-coloured glass on a brown leather strap. Over his honey-brown hair, he wore a top hat that was orbited by three silver-blue wires. "Who would have thought," Kohl asked, "that any of us would have remembered how to dress ourselves after all these years wearing uniforms?"

Ellsworth grinned, looking out of the corner of his eyes to take in the other man. Given what he was wearing, he wasn't even sure who he was. He didn't even feel familiar, so that placed him in a different department entirely. Regardless, he cut a striking figure that made him nod appreciatively. "Guh, I know! Those things are so drab, you feel like someone's grandma skulking around the ship in her pajamas." He turned his head halfway and gave Kohl another once over, feeling more than a little emboldened by the anonymity of his mask. "Are you some kinda cowboy?"

"Oh no," Kohl said, with a shake of his head and a dismissive scoff. "Not a cowboy." --He cleared his throat, and stared off into the middle distance-- "Or maybe I am? My research was inconclusive, but I believe I'm an early example of humanity's experimentation with fusing biomechanical parts onto people." Kohl had come across his costume's design while researching his character for Tuula's Victorian zombie holodeck program. The steampunk aesthetic hadn't been appropriate for that holodeck adventure, but Kohl hoped it would suffice for this one. "I believe I'm something called... Robocop."

Ellsworth laughed, a very pleasant sound with an almost lyrical quality. It dropped off abruptly though when he realized it hadn't necessarily been a joke. "What, really? They had things called robocops? Well, it certainly looks...experimental. But pretty cool. Kinda edgy, like, a little dangerous, huh? I heard Earth used to be real dangerous, so I guess that was the robocop times. Everybody wanted to be all armored up. I think maybe the Borg could learn a thing or two from that time period, right? Spice up their drones a little bit, give 'em some panache." He grinned behind the mask, an adolescent mind easily amused by adolescent musings.

Beneath all of his disguises, Kohl blanched at the mention of the Borg. It was an easy connection to make, but the mention brought painful associations to Kohl's mind. But only for a heartbeat. Ellsworth's enthusiasm was contagious on a pandemic level, and teasing the Borg took away some of the power of their reputation. "What are you thinking?" Kohl asked, easing into his gossipy nurse timbre. "Start over with a base colour of silver-blue and coordinate from there? Trade up the junk-shop look for intentional asymmetry and hard edges? Show a little more skin, but keep it classy?"

"I like that! The silver-blue should work well with the whole half-undead skin tone thing they've got going on. Maybe when they get their fashion act together, they can work on their attitude, too. I mean, they've got the delivery of a Vulcan politician, all droning and authoritative. It's like, 'Do I even want to be a part of this Collective? They don't sound very friendly. Maybe pick one spokesperson, you know? Like, assimilate someone who worked in PR, make people look forward to the whole becoming a drone process," Ellsworth said, matching the gossipy tone. He turned his head slightly, annoyed at the lack of peripheral vision in his mask, and wondered who his companion was.

"No, do y'know?" Kohl said, somewhat nonsensically. His vision was similarly impaired by his goggles, and so Kohl stepped away from the wall to face Ellsworth directly. Doing so gave him no better idea of with whom he was speaking. Despite this, Kohl's words were coming out faster now, practically overlapping. "Oh, I know! The spokesperson needs to be a professional singer. He should be singing, 'you will become one with the Borg'. Because, honestly, when a man sings a verse with devotion and veracity, it resonates with me. It sounds more like truth than when some jerk is talking at me. They need to hire a Betazoid or a Risian, someone in touch with his sensuality and every plane of reality. He's gotta make me say: I want your assimilation tubule inside of me."

Ellsworth's painted lips stretched into a grin, and he pushed himself off the wall. He felt like he never really got a chance to cut loose and be silly; between the anonymity of the costumes and an opening like that, how could he resist? Two careful steps on the balls of his feet brought him close enough to the robocop that he could reach up, brushing his cheek with the back of his hand, and playfully flick at the brim of his hat. He leaned closer still, close enough that his jet black eyes could be seen through the two holes in his mask, and began to sing in a quiet, slow, sultry tenor:

"You are so distinctively distinct, from your hands down to your feet." Ellsworth brought his hand down from the hat, tracing a line with his finger along Kohl's temple, cheek, jaw and neck before finally running it down his exposed arm to intertwine their fingers. "Can't you see that without you I'm simply...incomplete?" In concert with the last word, he pressed a leg between Kohl's and hooked their feet together, drawing himself closer.
"Why must you resist? Robocop, you've...got to desist..."

Ellsworth circled around him as he sang, holding his hand and winding his leg around Kohl's as long as he could before freeing both of them before he caused discomfort. When he rounded back to the front, he placed both of his hands on Kohl's chest and threw himself into leaning against him, using the differences in their height to lay his head on the Argelian's shoulder as well as the mask would allow. He turned his head and strained upward until he knew his warm breath would be falling upon Kohl's neck and continued singing in a near whisper, altering his tone to sound pouty and pleading.

"Won't you...lower your shields and come with me? Surrender your ships, it's easy, you'll see. You can earn my affection, with your defection. Just a quick injection, and together we'll achieve nothing short of..." Ellsworth moved his hand until it rested over Kohl's heart then stood on his tip-toes until his lips were actually pressed lightly against his neck while he sang the last phrase. "...absolute perfection...."

Kohl's body swayed in response, enthralled by the Venetian noble's dance. One of his hands landed on Ellsworth's left hip and snaked around his lower back. Even more than the dance, it was the brilliant spontaneity, the pleasing melody, that motivated Kohl's free hand to gently raise Ellsworth's face by the chin. Kohl leaned his own chin down to brush his lips across Ellsworth's lips with all the pressure of a shadow.

Ellsworth eased away far enough to separate their lips and allow his eyes to focus on the face in front of him. There was something thrilling about being pressed up against a stranger, and something yet more thrilling about playfully seducing him in a darkened corner of a ballroom with all the safety and freedom that anonymity offered. Of course, the anonymity wouldn't last forever. He would discover the robocop's identity eventually, whether later in the evening or at some point on the ship when he felt a familiar mind go wandering past him. If anything, the pressure of that timeframe and the still fresh wounds from K'os's departure pushed him deeper into his natural state of recklessness.

"You make a pretty good drone, robocop," Ellsworth said with a playful smile. He relaxed the tension in his back and allowed Kohl's grip around him to bring them back closer together, close enough that he could lean up and press his lips back to Kohl's. The kiss carried far more weight than a shadow this time, being something full of all the unbridled sensuality one might expect amid a heated moment while clothes were torn off, candles burned and cool sheets awaited. When Ellsworth pulled back again, he looked as mischievous as one might expect for a man hiding behind a mask. "So... Are you gonna take me out there to dance, or do we need to go over some more assimilation protocols?"

Before he could think of what to say, Kohl was disentangling himself from Ellsworth, but only so he could take the Venetian noble by the hand. Leading him towards where the other people were dancing, Kohl strode there on eager strides. "If you wouldn't be ashamed to be seen with a mere drone," Kohl said playfully, "I'll dance with you as long as you'll have me."

"I'd never be seen with some low-level worker drone, of course not," Ellsworth said, allowing himself to be led by the hand to the dance floor. "But a tall, dark, handsome drone? For that, I can make an exception..."

---

Outside, the woman stepped up, glancing around behind her black mask. Her blond hair was set up, curls carefully falling down, one going over her right breast. She wore a wine and dress, either late Victorian or early Edwardian style. The skirt itself was black satin, layered up with black lace details and a bustle. The corset part was wine, made out of a thick and matt velvet, the straps made of the same material. She wore a choker necklace, beads and black velvet doing the job, alongside black chandelier earrings. But Amynta Markos was waiting for someone. She expected that her...well, plus one...might show up. She had dropped hints. Although to confess, she made a mental note next time just to ask outright.

"Does the lady require a chaperone?" Alexion Wylde's voice sounded close to her ear as he touched her slender, corseted waist from behind. He chuckled, turning her to take a proper look, his grin clearly appreciative of the fine figure of a woman he saw in front of him. The doctor himself was clad in an outfit from Earth's past that he'd managed to find in researching after the many hints Amynta had dropped to him. He wore a tailored black tux, compete with a crisp white shirt under the fitting black dinner jacket, and a black bowtie. His mask matched with simple black velvet, a slimmer mask that simply covered the eyes. "Mask or not, I'd now that body anywhere...." he chuckled, not caring if they weren't really 'out' as seeing each other.

Amynta smiled, unable to stop it as she touched his arm in a gentle gesture. "You..." she looked at him, her eyes shining. "You look like a true gentleman. And yes, she does require that. Something handsome on my arm to make the dress seem less..." she sighed and shifted. "It's awfully tight around my ribcage. And the bustle makes sitting an interesting experience."

Alexion chuckled, offering his arm to her as they walked, looking around to take the large outside garden area in, enjoying the 'fresh' air. "I could always loosen it," he glanced to her, managing to keep a straight face. "Should the lady require later. I am here to serve."

She watched him for a long moment, a small smile curling her lips. "Mm..I like a man who can serve. In fact..." she moved her fingers to his jaw, caressing with her fingernails. "I am counting on it."

TBC:

PO1 Verity Thorne
Chaplain
USS Galileo
[PNPC Blake]

EMH MK X-b
Emergency Medical Hologram
[pNPC Holliday]

ENS T'Vanna Murray
Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Galileo

Oren Idris, Ph.D.
Archaeologist/Anthropologist
USS Galileo

Lieutenant JG Aria Rice
Security
USS Galileo
[PNPC Devin]

LCmdr Allyndra illm Warraquim
Chief Medical Officer
USS Galileo

PO3 Ellsworth Hudson
Quartermaster
USS Galileo
[PNPC Mott]

Lieutenant Commander Andreus Kohl
Chief Research Officer
USS Galileo

Lieutenant Commander Amynta Markos
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Galileo

MWO Alexion Wylde
Doctor
USS Galileo
[PNPC Blake]

 

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