Gathering: Masquerade Ball

[concierge]

A large sign placed prominently in the Nexus lobby reads:

The Nexus Hotel
proudly presents the
MARDI GRAS MASQUERADE BALL

Event Location
Nexus Dining Hall
8 PM - 2 AM

Masquerade dress recommended, but not required for all guests

The Dining Hall's central table and chairs had been removed to create a dance floor wide enough to accommodate fanciful masquerade costumes. On one end had been placed a long bar providing free drinks, and on the other a small chamber orchestra providing the music for dancing. The entire room was bedecked in gold bunting and twinkling candlelight, and masks were available for those guests who hadn't brought their own.

Comments

[praiseandglory]

"Is there any other way to fight?" Porthos asked with a grin. His fighting style would be called dirty by a great many people; he didn't stand on ceremony, or conventional weapons. But he always gave people a chance. "Just name the place." There were a few great spots outside, depending on the kind of terrain one wanted for their sparring.

As for any double-entendre linked into the conversation, it had gone right over Porthos's head - for now. He wasn't the Musketeer most versed into conversational tricks and subtleties, but he might still catch up, if only because it was hard not to let his mind wander with that look in Mademoiselle Phryne's eyes.

[phrynefisher]

As great a respect as she harbored for what had been the first sport to allow women to compete in the Olympic games, Phryne was certain that what lessons she had taken from her own brief foray into fencing would be surely miles away from anything she might learn under Porthos' tutelage. Fencing had allowed adrenaline and sweat, but had never seemed exactly practical with its myriad of rules of where you were and were not allowed to strike. An artform, certainly, but she had been more attracted to the older styles of the sport no longer in use. Daggers, and the like.

"Oh, I do like you," she told him, approvingly. Fencing was all well and good for the gymnasium, but it could not help you in a fight for your life. Given the situations she leapt into, one more weapon in her arsenal could only be a benefit. If it happened to come with a handsome Musketeer's attention for a time, all the better.

"I'm sure we could find some place," she said, drawing the pad of her thumb along the rim of her glass as she watched him from across the table. "The gymnasium, the gardens, perhaps. Or-" she let her words hang a moment before she smiled and added, "We could always begin in my room."

[praiseandglory]

Porthos opened his mouth to answer that he wasn't sure her room was the most practical place for that, before his brain finally caught up with what she was actually saying, and not a second too soon. He broke into a grin, and tilted his head in assent. "I did say name the place."

He hadn't realised his words would end up working on quite this level, but conversations could be funny that way.

[phrynefisher]

Phryne was certain of three things then: that the Nexus had the potential for adventures she had only dreamed of; that French champagne drunk by the bottle never failed to appeal; and that there was no reason in the world she need choose between the offer of a improving her swordsmanship and inviting the man to her room for other entertainments. She might have thought she had misstepped in her suggestion had the expressionary flash of confusion not dissolved almost immediately into the more welcome return of his grin.

There was an openness to his expression she quite enjoyed. Not simply the cut of his grin into his cheek or the pull of his scar across his eyebrow with each shift of emotion, but there in the way he seemed to all but broadcast his moods as if on a marquee.

"You did," she agreed. "I have heard it is very good form to begin with a sort of warm up activity. It really is only common sense we might start there."

[praiseandglory]

"We wouldn't want to pull a muscle," Porthos agreed, as if he ever needed a warm-up, but now that he was actually aware of what they were discussing (and he had to wonder if they had been discussing it for far longer than he had noticed), he was hardly going to stick to the literal meaning of things. "And good form's so very important," he added, the smile twitching at the corner of his lips reflected in twinkling dark eyes.

There was absolutely no doubt, from the way he looked and sounded, exactly how appealing he found the idea. How appealing he found her. Beautiful, smart, daring, funny - and open to a spot of violence. His favourite things in a woman.

[phrynefisher]

Every aspect of the hotel appeared to have been tailored to give its guests the richest experience possible. The strangest, in so many ways, but without a pause in the thrill of the anticipation of a new adventure. The masque with its delicate balance of elegance and entertainment was no different, and where Phryne might've liked a seat then she could more easily lounge against without the sharp edges of its borders if she chose to drape herself in its arms in any other way but mostly upright, she had no real complaint. Certainly not while she shifted to lean back against the chair's back in watching the man across from her.

"I've never heard any complaints," she replied, voice warm with flirtation and amusement not soon pulled apart. The chilled glass against her fingers where she curled them against the delicate stem of her flute saw her lifting it to him in a small toast, "Then again, a more hands-on exercise would be in order to get a more informed opinion. Don't you agree?"

[praiseandglory]

Complaints - no, she wouldn't hear any coming from Porthos. He was all short of them right then and there; couldn't even have complained about being stuck here and missing Paris, in that moment. There were things, and people, worth pushing that sort of thought aside, and Porthos felt confident that Mademoiselle Phryne was one of these people.

"Musketeer," he replied with another warm grin, because that certainly informed what he was about to answer. "I never turn down hands-on exercises."

[phrynefisher]

Behind a polished, silver wattle door on the third floor, her whole world stood waiting. All that was her life at the present - her friends, her home, Jane, Aunt Pru - were held back by one door among hundreds within the hotel, and where there was a security in knowing she could return at any time, her discovery of that door had been too well timed for her to want anything but to explore what the Nexus had to offer. She needed the freedom to chase what adventures might come without thought to what she had left behind for the time being, and where it would surely not always be the case, Phryne felt no guilt in taking some time for herself.

No more than she did for smiling over her glass at a handsome musketeer and speaking in double entendres with the taste of champagne on her tongue. She drained the last mouthful of the drink from her glass, swallowed, and then spoke. "And if I suggested we begin tonight?" she asked, setting her glass back down on the table with a care that belied the feeling of lightness that had only a little to do with the champagne, and the curl of anticipation in her stomach when she looked at him. "I could always borrow another bottle"

[praiseandglory]

"Let me get that," Porthos answered gallantly. It wasn't that he didn't think her capable of appropriating a bottle, but offering to do that for her seemed like the thing to. Especially given what they were talking about. Being gallant to a woman inviting you to her bedroom seemed akin to a duty, albeit a very pleasant one.

Never one to say things he did not mean to go through with, Porthos stood to go and fulfill his duty - after he gave her another small bow, first, eyes glinting in promise.

[phrynefisher]

Let it never be said that the Honourable Phryne Fisher missed the opportunity to appreciate the view in watching a man walk away. Better still that he had left her with a half smile pulling at her lips and the darkness of his eyes at that last look adding a speed to her fingers as she bent to retrieve her heels from where they'd been abandoned beneath the table.

It was an easy enough thing to slip her feet back into them and tighten their delicate straps. As it was to collect their glasses in one hand and make her way toward the door, catching Porthos once he had appropriated them another bottle. There she smiled at him and slipped her arm into his to lead him off toward her room and away from the chatter and buzz of the masquerade soon left behind them.

Had any been looking for either of them, the last that would've been seen of them was of her slow smile as she let them through the door, her arms wrapping around his throat as she pulled him in after her and let the door click shut behind them.