Masquerade! - Part 4/5

Posted on 28 Feb 2015 @ 4:51am by Chief Warrant Officer 3 Amon Mormont & Petty Officer 1st Class Gabriel Stark & Petty Officer 3rd Class Ellsworth Hudson & Lieutenant JG Grayson Jones & Commander Scarlet Blake & Lieutenant Commander Dea Mialin

3,147 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Episode 07 - Sojourn
Location: Starbase 84 - Holosuite
Timeline: MD07 - 2130

ON:

Mormont felt a bit silly, coming here this late, dressed up. While others had gone for color, Mormont had gone for a black Victorian suit, with a top hat and a simple black mask. It was clothes he was oddly used to, clothes that felt natural and yet unsettling. They reminded him of another time in his life. Perhaps he would have been more at home with something...a bit more practical. He scanned the room, frowning slightly. He was trying to find Gabriel Stark in the sea of people. Of course, with a mask...it was difficult. More difficult to spot anyone. He didn't like how it felt. It would hopefully, eventually, pass.

"Halt! Who goes there!" Gabriel chuckled as he pushed the end of his rifle into Mormont's back. He smiled warmly to him as he slung it firmly back across his back, part of his costume for being an eighteenth century British Redcoat soldier, so named for the flaming red uniform jacket that was tailored to his body, on top of the snug breeches and boots. "A fine Victoran gentleman, that's who...."

Mormont laughed, holding his arms up for a moment before turning, watching him. "Oh..." he smiled, unable to stop it. "You look beautiful." He moved to him, his eyes warm behind the mask. "A fine Redcoat indeed. Ready to fight the French are we?"

"Absolutely, and anyone else that might get in my way," Gabriel smiled warmly to him, pulling close to feel the strong, broad chest clad in Amon's Victorian jacket. "Kind, Sir..." he added in his real, original cut glass English aristocratic accent that he usually tried to soften on a daily basis, leaning to kiss him softly, enjoying the warmth of him close.

Amon moaned with surprise, kissing him back as he pulled him closer. He stroked lovingly over Stark's back, just enjoying the closeness and the freedom of doing this. When the kiss broke, he searched the masked face with awe. "What a fine young gentleman I have in my arms," he said, touching his cheek for a moment, caressing over the edge of the mask.

"Better dance with him then," Gabriel whispered against his ear with a smile, letting his lips brush against it as he wrapped his arms around the back of his neck, moving gently with him to the beat of the music.

---

Abbey finally walked through the holodeck doors wearing a rose red dress which clung to her figure perfectly, showing her hour class physic. Her hair was done in an exotic design which crowned the back of her hair and tied into one plait which ran down the back of her neck splitting her exposed shoulder's. Where the two parting meet a red flower was woven into the plait. Her dress frilled out at the bottom and bounced freely with every step and upon her face she wore a half mask allowing he bright red lips to light up the room. She immediately walked to the drinks table.

Ellsworth finally gave up on finding robocop again. The crowd had become thick with crew and guests, making him feel a little claustrophobic; it was hard to block out all the voices and still enjoy yourself. The dance floor would have ordinarily been inviting, but his mind was crowded and he was feeling a bit depressed from losing his tall, flirtatious man. His lithe body slipped easily between people until he made his way to the outer wall of the holosuite where he could relax for a moment outside the press of bodies. There, in the mental clarity he found, he felt something familiar. He roused something inside him and sparked memories, leading him to look up and down the wall until he found the source.

The young Betazoid grinned to himself and went slinking off down the wall until he sauntered up next to the Spartan, though he just assumed he was some kind of primitive warrior. Regardless, the costume was revealing, and he loved it. The familiar form was turned slightly away, giving him perfect angle to swing his hand back and slap it firmly against Grayson's behind. Grinning, he spoke over his shoulder.

"I'd know that anywhere."

"Then you know what you are dealing with," the Warrior responded, turning to face the owner of the hand. "Most men who do that usually do not live long...or at least offer a drink before taking things further." Grayson at this point wished his helmet did not cover his face so much, so he could show off his flirtatious gaze and wink that went along with that sentence.

Ellsworth's painted lips stretched into a grin; apparently masquerades were nothing but endless, fun theater, leading him to wonder why he'd missed out on them all his life. He leaned closer and drew a finger along Grayson's left bicep, trying to angle his face so some of the mischief in his eyes could be seen through the mask. He hadn't forgotten about his drone - and he doubted he ever would, at least until he found him again - but this at least held the promise of redeeming the evening for him.

"I'm sure you're quite adept at using your sword, so I'd better go with the drink, hm? I'm not sure if they have anything fitting enough for a bold, proud warrior such as yourself, but we can see... Even the strongest among us like a little champagne every once in awhile, right?"

Letting his hand slide down his new potential suitor's back, Grayson continued his mischievousness , "I'm sure a few bubbles hurt anyone...if they brought them back quickly. Tell me this though, my spots are well and truly covered. How could you tell?" Finally he let his hand rest in the small of Ellsworth's back, pulling him in a little closer, allowing some tension to fill between them.

Ellsworth, playing his part, put a little resistance in his muscles, as if he was an uncertain victim being pulled into the stronger warrior's grasp. Though the body resisted, it was clear that the eyes absolutely did not. "Armor on the battlefield might be enough to fool your enemies, but can you truly hide your mind from your friends and lovers? Especially if they have a talent for sensing things." He grinned and leaned forward until his dark, inky black Betazoid eyes were fully visible through his mask while a nimble but strong hand snaked its way through the pleats on the side of Grayson's leather armored skirt until he could drag nails across skin. "Besides, it may have been a few weeks, but I'd still know those thighs anywhere - so strong and sure."

"Hmmm and here I thought I was good at covering my thoughts," Grayson teased, "and you got one freebie with them, but if you want them again, you need to work for them tonight." Grayson continued his playful taunt as he took Ellsworth's hand, placed it on his thigh and used his shield arm to conceal it.

"With so much going on around, so many chattering voices and so many scattered thoughts, one's mind seeks out the familiar with greater than average intensity so as to have something to latch on to," Ellsworth said, struggling hard to come up with language he thought might be suitable for a member of upper-class Venice. Despite being able to pull it off for a time, he knew the limitations of his vocabulary were likely to reveal themselves soon; thankfully, he could also rely on language he had a far better mastery over. "You're going to make me work for them now, are you? Well, lucky for you, I'm a hard worker..."

Ellsworth made a half-step backwards, almost so that there seemed to be a respectable amount of distance between two people chatting during a social event. But behind the shield, he was taking full advantage of the discreetness to trace patterns along flesh where his hands had been in weeks gone by and had since longed to be again. He averted his eyes and lowered his voice into a husky whisper, voicing the instinctive thoughts that came in the heat of the moment as he glided his smooth hands across corded muscles. "I've missed this. And you."

Letting his skin shudder, Grayson managed to whimper out, "In all honesty... I've missed you too. Not just the playful touching and banter, but...you give good hugs when a boy needs them most."

The young Betazoid had managed to work his hand along Grayson's outer thigh up to the waist of the armored skirt, but he had to work to keep the surprise out of the movement of his hand. He'd heard a lot of seemingly flattering things leave the lips of men above and below him over the course of his life, breathy whispers in dark corners and unrestrained cries of love in the throes of a single night together. But rarely did anyone say anything sweet, much less sound sincere. It had brought him up short; he liked it, and the emotionally selfish person inside of him wanted to hear more.

"You're just saying that," Ellsworth said teasingly, dropping his hand out from beneath the rough feel of the leather to press his palm against Grayson's chest. He pushed a little bit, as if playfully dismissing him and his comment.

"I'm not." Grayson caught Ellsworth's hand in his own, keeping it against his chest.

Ellsworth was well-practiced at playing bashful, and it helped that he was genuinely flattered. He smiled demurely and lowered his head. "You must be one of those warrior-poets. Strong and graceful on the battlefield with a brilliant tactical mind..." He turned his head up to look at him again and brushed his free hand against the temple of the helmet, as if he were nudging the hairline beneath it and following the trail of spots. Then his hand fell to Grayson's chest, resting over his heart. "And soft-hearted in the darkness of the night, whispering sweet and tender words of love and affection. You know, to whoever's lucky enough to be around."

In his confident, very charming way, Grayson picked up Ellsworth's words and turned them around. "You are around. You're here."

Ellsworth twisted his hand in Grayson's, enjoying the way they cupped together. He grinned up at him and closed the distance between them again, knocking at his shield with a knee as if he wanted him to discard it so the Trill could free both hands to place on Ellsworth's body. When he spoke, his voice carried the tone that walked the fine line between request and command. "Dance with me."

Staying in character, Grayson very menacingly took his shield off his arm and as he softened his features and body, placed it on his back, each strap of the shield going through an arm and onto his shoulders like a backpack. Grayson held out a hand and wait to be lead.

"You're very committed to the role," Ellsworth said, taking the Trill's hand and leading him out on to the floor. It was still crowded and a hundred different thinking minds were swirling around him, but keeping a hand on Grayson and focusing on his eyes helped give him enough clarity so that he didn't get queasy. "I like that in a warrior. Selfless. Determined. Tending to the needs of others. Strong. Indomitable. Yet still graceful on the dance floor..."

When they were on the floor and moving in time to the Andorian rumba or whatever was playing, Ellsworth eased his arm up from Grayson's waist so that it passed hidden beneath his exposed skin and shield. It allowed him to lightly draw his nails over a portion of the Trill's back that he remembered to be particularly sensitive; as they moved together, it became like a game to see if he could distract Grayson enough that he lost his rhythm.

"You do know how to charm a man... and exactly where my buttons are and how to press them." It was at this momment Grayson was glad he had a helmet on. He would be very tempted to go in for a kiss right now, but glad he couldn't. This time, if a man wanted him...really wanted him and for more than a night, he would make them work. Grayson was tired of being disposable to people, he wanted to finally mean something.

"Mm-hmm," Ellsworth said, though there was a sudden hesitation in his touch.

Beneath the Venetian mask, his brow was drawn together in thought and concern over the feelings emanating from his dance partner. Reluctance? Questioning of one's self-worth? They struck a chord with him, mirroring very much some of his own feelings, and it was leaving him feeling torn. He'd already gotten his hopes up with one mystery man and been ditched by his roommate "date," so now was he going to have to allow himself to be let down again? There was a part of him, the darker part, some remnants of his old life, that pushed him to selfishly tend to his own needs. But it was tempered by what little personal and emotional development he'd managed over the years.

"So," Ellsworth began, wondering how best to phrase things. They'd been together before in the most casual of ways, an arrangement he'd come to enjoy. It was unfettered and free and passionate, always waiting in the wings for whenever one or the other might need it. Now he wondered whether there might be emotional needs that Grayson was looking to fulfill, needs that Ellsworth was decidedly unqualified to address. He put on his best teasing smile and asked in a high voice, hoping it might add some levity to his heavy-handed approach in what he felt was a tense and awkward situation, "Am I gonna get to see your spots?"

"Keep playing your cards right and you will," Grayson then leaned in a little closer, "I will need some help to wash all this body paint, make-up stuff off. Well, that and I managed to secure some temporary quarters here on the base."

"I bet they're very spacious and well-appointed. You know, I've always been curious about the temporary quarters on the starbase. Do they look different? Smell different? What's the layout like? Is the bedroom in the same place as most starships, or have they moved it?" Ellsworth gave him a crooked grin as he looked up at him. A few moments ago, he was thinking how much he hated the Spartan helmet, but now it just seemed to heighten the anticipation. "Am I going to have to fight you for the privilege of knowing? I don't have a shield or a sword, but I'm pretty quick on my feet and I'm a good wrestler."

"Save that for later," the Spartan said with a very playful tone, "and the rooms are spacious enough but still very, very Starfleet."

Ellsworth leaned into him with a wicked smile. "I'm sure we can do something to bring them to life..."

"I'll follow your lead then," Grayson continued to play as he leant in and managed to sneak a kiss on the cheek from behind his mask.

---

As she walked into the suite, Scarlet Blake certainly cut a different figure than the other women the elaborate garden landscape. Instead of a dress, she wore snug breeches with knee high boots, a white, laced eighteenth century man's shirt, and a black, frocked cape over her shoulders. Her dark hair was up apart from a few stray wisps, captured under her tricorn hat, and her mask was a black eyemask of a highwayman from eighteenth century England's legend.

Looking around, Scarlet's gaze fell on a steampunky, leather clad assassin. She tilted her head with a chuckle. She'd lay bets on that being the body of a marine. Still, only one way to find out. She moved across to him, pulling the two pistols from the thick leather belt hanging on her hips, sticking them into the assassin's belt. "Stand and deliver! Your money or your life!"

Dea turned in time to see Blake asking Luke for something. From a distance she watched behind the Black Canary mask. Staying in character she didn't crack a smile. Her role for the evening was to protect those that needed it but so far it appeared Luke was handling the situation on his own.

Eoghan stopped his people watching as a woman in black stepped into his vision, he smiled widely at the beautiful woman who seemed to appear from nowhere. "I want to call you Cinderella but you seem to have too much black going on for that...would cat woman better suit?" The man had a black mask afixed over his own eye with a cloak over his shoulders and a 18th century American army uniform under the heavy material.

Turning her attention Dea gave him a slight smile, "I'm amused watching guess. You're right its not Cinderella. And although Cat Woman also wore black thats not it either. Its Black Canary."

Turning the name over in his head, Eoghan tilted his head slightly to the side with a smile. "I think I prefer Cat Woman....A cat is elegant in her presentation, preferring to wrap herself around a person before attacking. You can't turn your back on her for fear that you may miss something."

"Well I wanted to be different. But yes I like Cat Woman as well," Dea commented with a smile. "And you would be?"

Grinning as he gave the woman a deep bow before looking back up into her eyes. "A man who's very smitten...will the lady honor me with a dance?"

Dea nodded even more amused by his answer, "Certainly lead the way." Following her partner to the dance floor. "I've never been one to turn down an invitation like that." So far it had turned into a very interesting evening at the ball.

Taking one of the woman's hands on his, Eoghan laid his other on his waist before drawing her closer. As they both moved intime to the beat, he ran his thumb across her knuckles, "Hum....Not afraid to use your hands?"

Smiling as the woman stayed silent, Eoghan easily drew her a little closer as they lost themselves in the music and dance.

TBC:

Master Warrant Officer Amon Mormont
Security
USS Galileo
[PNPC Markos]

PO1 Gabriel Stark
Security
USS Galileo
[PNPC Blake]

PO3 Ellsworth Hudson
Quarter Master
USS Galileo
[PNPC Mott]

Lieutenant JG Grayson Jones
Assistant Chief Engineer
USS Galileo

CMDR Scarlet Blake
First Officer
USS Galileo

LT CMDR Dea Mialin
Flight Control Officer
USS Galileo

Ensign Eoghan O'Callaghan
Operations
USS Galileo
(Random NPC by McCarthy)

 

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