tushanshu_logs | Event | Masquerade Ball

Solomon attends with Raine on his arm--or possibly Raine attends with Solomon on hers. It's difficult to tell. His suit is in shades of black and dark green. His mask is also black, but plain, covering the top half of his face--quite literally. There are no eyeholes, which gives the kedanase announcers something of a start when he looks their way.

Raine is the one who leads him for the most part, and they can be seen once or twice on the dance-floor--mostly in conjunction with Solomon giving quite instructions, admittedly. It's not the first time he's danced since his accident, at least, so there's little in the way of jostling.

For the most part, however, Solomon can be found either near Raine's hand; near the food-and-drink tables; or, in general, mingling with a bland smile and a very deliberate propensity to look straight at his conversation partner with his eyeless mask.

Rue doesn't strike right away.

He gives Wreath and Raine some time to enjoy themselves, some time to get comfortable. Drink a little. Dance a little. And then, just as the two of them are ending a dance and preparing to move away from the dancefloor as the next song starts, Rue saunters over to the two of them in his gorgeously embroidered frock coat and his heels and his pretty mask. It almost, almost looks like he's getting ready to stroll right past Solomon, and then he reaches out and trails one hand up Sol's arm, almost lovingly, to his shoulder. And then kind of drapes himself across both of Wreath's shoulders, whilst peeking over them at Raine.

"My dear, you wouldn't mind if I stole Solomon for one little dance, would you?"

Raine has absolutely no justifiable reason to object, is the thing. She could hardly expect that she and Solomon would keep purely to themselves for the length of the party, and it's not that she believes she has any reason to be jealous; she trusts Solomon, and Rue flirts with everyone. It's simply...

She doesn't know what emotion it is, exactly, that's making her shoulders stiffen, but she's frowning at Rue. "Mister Rue," she says, managing a cool, neutral tone. "I don't see a problem with one dance, but that's up to Solomon, of course. However, I'd appreciate it if--"

Raine cuts herself off there, pulls it back to frigidly precise. "Never mind," she says in a moment. Solomon is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and she can't think he has any compunctions about telling Rue off if he's genuinely displeased. Raine has no reason to be irritated, excepting if Rue is sincerely discomfiting Solomon. Possible, but it doesn't look like it. Yet. "Solomon?"

"Oh good."

It's clear that Rue stops listening roughly two seconds after Raine says "Never mind." Rue slips around Wreath like a snake, all long, graceful movements, hands never once breaking contact with Wreath's clothing, until he's back in front of Sol. One arm stays wrapped around Sol's waist, directing him back out toward the dance floor. If there's an inch of moonlight between the two of them it's hard to find.

Erskine is so, so sorry, Raine. He'll make it up to you.

As soon as they're far enough out into the clearing, Rue turns all of his attention back to Sol and sets them up for the dance--Rue in the lead, with one hand clasping one of Sol's and the other on Wreath's waist.

"Shall we?"

Solomon, for his part, was feeling uncharacteristically discombobulated. He didn't like it, but he didn't have much of a choice, because there were things happening his mind was having trouble connecting together. Like, for example, the fact that he had felt Ravel's soul in the vicinity and coming closer. Solomon had been about to make a witty remark as the man passed, but the fact Ravel hadn't even stopped to say hello to Raine struck him as odd.

And then it was Rue speaking. Rue's hands on Solomon's shoulders.

At which point the dissonance and the need to figure it out overtook any desire to actually say anything. Even Rue's request and Raine's answer took a backseat as Solomon frowned in Rue's direction. He heard the conversation--it just wasn't important. Because this, right beside him, was Ravel's soul. Speaking in Rue's voice.

"Do I--" he began, but Rue was already pulling him onto the dance-floor with a firm, decisive grip. "--have a choice?" Solomon finished by the time they were positioned properly. Rue was leading. Lovely. Solomon had to squash the urge to fight it, but at least he could be grateful that Rue was a decent dancer.

And by 'Rue', he meant, of course, Ravel. "Well played," he said in a low voice. "Well-played indeed, Dead Man."

How long had Rue been fake? There was a Saracen Rue--Solomon knew that; he'd met the man, seen Ravel and Rue standing side-by-side. But Rue had also gone from frilly frocks, heels and makeup to dress more understated and practical and less concealing of specific features to the casual eye.

"Do I have a choice?"

"No," Rue replied cheerfully, stepping expertly into the first few moves of the dance. "Not really"

If nothing else, Rue was indeed a decent dancer. Erskine may not have had quite the prowess of a Dexter Vex or even Skulduggery on the dancefloor, but he was no stranger to it either. He didn't miss a beat when Wreath spoke again, though part of that had to do with the fact that he was entirely unaware of the revelation Wreath had come to moments previous.

"What, for getting you onto the dancefloor?" Rue snorted in amusement behind the mask. "Are you such a recluse that this constitutes a major victory? Or are you such a catch that I should be patting myself on the back for landing you?"

Solomon did notice that. And he even appreciated it, even though it took some effort before his shoulders relaxed and he submitted to being led. Solomon was himself a good dancer, good enough that having the roles reversed didn't trip him up; but that didn't mean he wasn't accustomed to being in the other position.

Besides, there were other very interesting things to consider. "Yes," said Solomon promptly. "I'm ordinarily slippery as an eel. Though I'm more impressed it you so easily took me from Raine's net."

Raine wasn't the possessive type, but Solomon had noticed the tone in her voice when she spoke to Rue and he certainly didn't mind it himself. It was, after a fashion, something he'd been nudging into existence for months. Now, the question was, did Solomon want to let Ravel know that he knew? Already he had no plans to tell anyone else. He knew how to appreciate masterful strokes, and an alias like Rue lasting two centuries of war was impressive.

Impressive, and typical of the Dead Men.

(Either way, it might be obvious to Erskine that Solomon seemed, abruptly, much more relaxed around him than he had over the network when Rue first appeared.)

Come now Solomon. If you really wanted to be the man and lead the dance you only had to say so~

Rue shrugged. "She did look a bit agitated, poor girl. I suppose I shall have to make this up to her somehow, stealing her man away and all." The suggestive tone of his voice was back in full force, very evident despite the lack of facial cues to go with it. Not because Rue would ever do anything with Raine--short of take her shopping, maybe--but Wreath would know that. Rue very rarely showed interest in anyone not of the male persuasion. Nope, that lewd tone of voice was all for Sol.

The dance continued in silence for another few moments before it began to dawn on Erskine that Wreath wasn't fighting him. Wasn't trying to get away, or argue, or anything of the like. He probably couldn't chalk that up to Rue's winning charm, either.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Solomon smiled, very sunnily. "I was thinking how impressive you are, of course."

How impressively manipulative, the lot of them, to keep this secret a secret for this long. How long would it take Ravel to figure out he'd been discovered? How fun would it be to find out?

"I've never quite realised just how impressive, until now. You've surprised me, Rue."

Okay, something was up. Wreath was being obnoxiously pleasant.

"I've been meaning to ask, darling," Rue drawled, ignoring Wreath's slew of compliments, "how exactly do you see your way around? Is this a trick mask, or...?"

In all honesty, Ravel had never bothered to ask about Wreath's situation in Keeliai. But if Wreath was blind, there had to be a way he was 'seeing' his surroundings. And if Wreath was suddenly acting so friendly toward one of the Dead Men, it probably meant he thought he knew something the other didn't.

Could he have figured out the ruse?

"Oh, that." Solomon half-shrugged, the sort to indicate submissiveness without dislodging Ravel's hand or interrupting the dance. "As it turns out, when a powerful enough necromancer loses his sight, he starts being able to see the parts of people that touch his magic."

Now, was that too opaque? Probably not. Solomon didn't feel too inclined to drag it out, however, which is why, without lowering his tone--but without raising it either; nothing to draw his attention or indicate his next words were important--he said blithely: "I can see your soul."

Erskine had an idea of what Wreath was getting at, though he didn't have enough time to parse the thought completely before Solomon finished it for him.

"I can see your soul."

Only a few centuries of practice at play-acting, followed by a cool century of pretending that yes, everything was fine, no he wasn't falling apart, kept Ravel from flinching back completely out of Solomon's grasp and out of the dance. As it was he winced, though the mask would have covered that even had Sol been able to see him at all.

So Wreath knew. There was no getting around that now. If he was telling the truth, no amount of backpedaling would cover the fact that Wreath could see him.

But what else could he see?

"You must be so proud," Ravel replied, maintaining the nasal British accent.

"Oh, I am," said Solomon lightly. He couldn't see the wince, but the way Ravel's shoulders tensed under his hand was impossible to miss. "It's so amazingly ironic. I leave the Temple, and discover depths of our magic of which they only dream."

Ravel was composed, Solomon would give him that. Not that Solomon expected otherwise; Dead Man, and all.

"Don't fret your pretty head too much," he added with self-deprecating amusement. "It's much more limited than it sounds. I can tell who you are and I can see that you have scars, which frankly sums up half the Foreigners in Keeliai. I can't tell where those scars came from and I can't tell anything you want or intend to do. Your deep, dark secrets are safe from me, Rue."

Whatever the other deep dark secrets might be, to make Skulduggery treat Ravel with cool indifference or irritation; much as he had Solomon for decades. Not that some of those scars were much of a secret, but one did not discuss those matters with a man as tense as Ravel currently was.

Either way, it ought to be a clear enough statement for Ravel to know Solomon wouldn't destroy Rue's cover. Too much fun to be had, there. Solomon wondered if China knew.

Rue. Wreath was still calling him Rue.

And was he actually trying to be reassuring? This night was just moving right along from one surprise to the next, wasn't it? Ravel focused for a time on keeping up the steps of the dance, not faltering in the image he was projecting to the rest of the party as he thought things over. Aside from the learned distrust he'd held for Wreath for over a hundred years, there was no actual reason to believe that Solomon was lying about any of this. But he wasn't going to expose Rue's identity, either.

So what now?

Now the song and the dance were winding down around them, and maybe now was a good time to spring the little surprise he'd planned for Raine and Solomon. There certainly wouldn't be a better time, he thought--not with the look Raine had shot him before he'd stolen Wreath for the dance.

Still clinging to Wreath as Rue was wont to do, Ravel glided back across the dancefloor to where Raine was waiting and then attempted to catch her arm up with his free arm, hooking them both, one on each side.

"Come along, darling. This way."

Raine had mostly lingered near the outskirts and the refreshment table, attempting not to give this interlude any more weight than it justly deserved. She was not, however, watching the dance floor. At Solomon and Rue's approach, she half-turned, cuing more off Solomon's presence than Rue's, and was more than a little surprised when Rue caught her arm as well. "I-- what?" she managed, blinking and bemused, but she didn't stumble beyond the first step.

"Where are we going?" she prompted in a moment, wits about her now. She was cooperating mostly because Solomon himself seemed unconcerned and would have warned her if something untoward was in the offing, not of any great fondness for Rue.

Ravel was obvious thinking things over, but Solomon was still mildly surprised when his only reaction was to keep dancing, and then when the song had finished to lead Solomon quite courteously off the dance-floor. Well, courteous according to Rue, at any rate.

Solomon smiled sunnily in Raine's direction, or as best as he could manage given that they were on either side of Ravel. He was far more relaxed than he had been before, and even during their three-way conversation over the handset. "It's okay," he said cheerfully. "Rue and I have come to an understanding. He's quite the convincing fellow, once you get to know him."

He had to admit, though, he was curious as to what Ravel was planning.

An understanding. Rue laughed brightly, a nod to the conclusions one could quite easily draw from that kind of statement. Inside, Erskine was sighing a little if only for Raine's sake. It had been fun at first, but it was infinitely more amusing to poke fun at Solomon than it was at Raine. At least none of it was real. And maybe this would make up for it.

Without a word of explanation, Rue all but strutted across the party with his two captives in tow on either side. Just off the side of the refreshments area there was a little corner of courtyard that had been roped off. It wasn't easy to see from the main part of the masquerade, or even from the refreshments table. Only if you knew to look for it.

A table for two sat in the corner, complete with pretty tablecloth, candles, flowers, and fairy lights suspended above. A nice dinner, just a cut above the fare served at the party, and a bottle of good wine waited for them.

Rue detached himself from the two of them and gently nudged them forward.

"For the lovers~"

"Oh," said Raine, taken off-guard, when Rue's intent became apparent. She hadn't known what to expect, but if forced to guess, she would not have been anywhere near this. "This is-- this is lovely. Why...?"

It didn't make sense, said the suspicion following immediately on the heels of the startled delight. She herself barely knew Rue, and judging by their conversations beforehand, Solomon and Rue weren't on the best of terms. And this most recent 'understanding' could hardly have generated this; Rue would have had to prepare this beforehand. Nor could it have been Valdis' handiwork.

In other words, Rue had done something kind for the couple specifically, rather than one of them separately, and Raine couldn't see why he was at all interested in their relationship.

She stopped herself from frowning dubiously at Rue, and instead took Solomon's arm, since they had both been set adrift. "Thank you," she said, polite, "but I have to wonder why you went to the trouble to set up a-- a date for us."

Solomon indulgently allowed himself to be pulled along, though he had no idea what Ravel had planned. By the time they stopped he still had no idea, though he tilted his head and took a deep breath, and his eyebrows shot up behind his faceless mask as he smelled wine and flowers.

Raine's words as she took his arm confirmed that there was something laid out there, and Solomon stretched out a hand to feel the shadows of the table and the chairs.

"Why, Rue," he said with a degree of bemusement he didn't bother to hide--call it recompense for the surprise he sprang on Ravel earlier. "You've depths I never imagined."

Rue shrugged slightly, then dipped into a deep, flourishing bow.

"Consider it recompense for stealing Solomon away from you, my dear," he replied, addressing Raine first. He should have known Raine would be suspicious, though he wasn't terribly concerned about it either way. There wasn't actually an ulterior motive to discover, even should she try.

To Solomon he nodded, tilting his head a little in lieu of a grin they wouldn't see behind the mask anyway. "Tip of the iceberg, dearest," he crooned. "Merely the tip of the iceberg. Now if you both will excuse me, I have a masquerade to help run. Please enjoy yourselves."

With another little flourish, Rue pivoted on one foot and strode away.

Raine still eyed him with some little suspicion, but she inclined her head. "Thank you," she said again, and managed a smile for him, and watched him go.

"He really has gone to some trouble," she added, for Solomon's ears, when Rue had departed. "There's-- fairy lights, I believe they're called? From the decor to the food, it's... above and beyond, really." This was now more thinking aloud than informing for Solomon's benefit, and even as Raine moved toward the table she looked up and over, at Solomon, trying to discern if he knew something that would give some reason for this. The half-mask hid much of his expression, but even so it did not take a genius to be sure she'd missed some vital point.

"What did you two talk about?"

"I can smell it," Solomon assured her, stretching out a hand to feel the table's shadows. He found a chair and pulled it out for Raine. "Master Healer Sage."

Then he found his own, skirting the table with his fingers running along its edge. "Oh, a few things," he said breezily. "Talents, gifts, the depths of my genius. We bantered, that's all. Wine?"

He reached out for it, knowing full well that one thing he would never quite master was the art of spilling everything he was pouring, and that Raine's obligation to help with distract her long enough for the food to distract her more completely.

Raine had long since given up the disagreement about that particular title, and so she only sat, absently crossing her ankles to one side. "That's all," Raine repeated, skeptical, but as Solomon had predicted she was distracted by the issue of pouring the wine. His shadows and his ka could compensate for many things, but not everything. "Yes, wine would be lovely."

She knew Solomon well enough to guess, a few minutes later when she had been nearly thoroughly distracted by first wine then food, that he was redirecting, but if he was so determined, she likely wouldn't get it from him, and it didn't seem a bad thing, in any case.

Raine was more than content to settle down, and enjoy the date. The matter of Saracen Rue could be dealt with later.

Event | Masquerade Ball

Solomon and Raine

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