Masquerade, paper faces on parade

[thegooddrjones]

Who: Martha, pretty much everyone else in Peaksville
What: The Masquerade Party
When: Day 53, "evening"
Warnings: Will change when applicable.
Notes: Everyone jump in, thread jack, start your own thread, all that stuff. For those who didn't get masks or who got crappy ones? The standard assortment of masks are on a table for you to grab one or

Comments

Re: Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive... :P

[irish_bombshell]

Fiona stood eyeing the table with masks on it as she sipped her drink. It probably looked a bit out of place that she wasn't obviously wearing a mask, but she didn't think it was a good idea, somehow, to go double duty with these things. Just to try and blend in, she grabbed a plain white mask and held it, so that at least she had one. Hopefully it was the kind that the woman she looked like had. If not, well, it wouldn't be the first time Fiona had to do some fast talking.

She turned then and suddenly found herself covered by a (thankfully) attractive man. She barely got out a little noise of surprise before she was being kissed. Fiona was quite used to rolling with the punches, when it came to pretending to be someone you weren't, and she kissed back immediately. This was really wasn't any different from many of the jobs she's worked with Michael and Sam, except that usually the guys coming onto her were people she wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole.

Yes, this was much nicer. If only she knew who this guy was. It had all happened so fast she hadn't been able to get a good look at him. Ah well, nothing she could handle.

"Well, hello to you too," she said, once the kiss broke. This certainly was going to be an interesting night.

[derek_morgan]

While the kiss was nice, it hadn't been reciprocated the way she had the day prior. Her greeting was not typical of Debra Morgan. She smiled what appeared to be a genuine grin yet something was definitely off. There could only be one explanation: she wasn't wearing her mask. Derek observed her curiously with a wide and borderline 'happy with himself' smile.

"You know, I expected to go home and finally give our bed a proper christening but then found myself in this tux. ...I think this thing's even nicer than what West had me in for our honeymoon." He slid his thumb under the lapel to show it off after handing her glass back to her. Derek chuckled softly at himself then slipped his hands into the side pockets of his slacks under the tuxedo jacket. "Miss me?" he asked genuinely through his grin.

His eyes fell to her mask then followed the lines of her dress. She wasn't a curvy woman by any means but there was something alluring about their pseudo marriage--the fact that Deb for all intents and purposes was his. A thought that didn't seem to come to mind when he crossed the line with Emily. That was no doubt going to come back and bitch slap him.

Another day.

Derek had not one worry in his pretty little head. His eyes managed to stay locked on hers and cease from roaming her body. He didn't realize she was missing his matching wedding band because of the mask she had in hand. Any ounce of tease left his gaze, leaving a very warm and smitten stare from his brown eyes.

[fucktonofcoffee]

Debra Morgan had come back from the restroom and found her husband missing. She hadn't expected to find him missing after she'd gone through all the trouble of telling him that she'd be right back, but that was beside the point. The bathroom door in the bar had locked behind her, and she'd had a fucking hell of a time getting the hell out of there, and it was only a good kick that had finally made the door open. Oh, and it had sent her fucking tumbling down into the wooden food and she'd skinned her hand before she'd gone home and gone to fucking bed.

After sleeping for longer than she slept since she'd been in fucking diapers, Debra Morgan had woken up in time for a party. Debra Morgan was wearing a white dress to go with the white mask that she'd apparently fallen asleep in. What the fuck, Deb, she thought angrily as she touched the dappled edges of the mask where they met cheek, who the fuck sleeps in a mask other than batshit fucking crazy people and the Phantom of the fucking Opera.

Despite thinking she'd need to remove the mask to do her hair, when she looked to the mirror (completely fucking glossing over the fact that Derek's side of the bed hadn't been slept in again. Thank you, mask.) she found that her hair was pulled back elaborately and sleeked back as if she'd had a pocket full of fucking make-up people do it. She laughed at her reflection, because what kind of fucking idea was this anyway?

Without preamble, she pulled on a large diamond necklace and earrings that matched the engagement ring she still couldn't remove. With the addition of heeled shoes (that she almost fell over in three fucking times) Debra Morgan was finally ready to head to the party. She walked awkwardly in among the music, and then she spotted the ass and back of the person who could only be her fake husband. As Ms. (not Mrs., fuck you very much West) saw him, she was wondering if she'd developed some sort of god damn fake bullshit wife sonar. Then he was kissing someone who looked like her and Debra Morgan scowled.

She shouted, because that's what she did when something like this happened. "Oh what the fuck is this fucking bullshit?"

[irish_bombshell]

It was really amazing how much you could find out about people when they think they know you. In a matter of seconds Fiona knew that this very handsome man was a great kisser, was living with the person he thought she was and was... hold up, married?

Well, that brought a whole new level to this, didn't it? Fiona was a lot of things, a little crazy, a bit gun happy, but she didn't like messing with innocent people's love lives. That was just not in the cards for Ms. Glenanne.

Still, how to get out of this without making things worse? Damn, why were all the hot ones taken? Or simply not available? Now she just had to hope that she hadn't missed the mark with Eric. Damn this mask, this wasn't nearly as fun as she thought it was going to be.

And then, just like that, it got wholly worse. The real her started swearing like a sailor and storming over to them. Well, two could play at that game and Fiona's 'cover' (for lack of a better word) wasn't completely blown. Not if she could keep cool, play the part and get out A.S.A.P.

Ahhh, just like the good old days.

Fiona looked around Derek to see the real her (she really was going to have to get names somehow) storming over. She was sure she was furious, but it was hard to tell behind that white mask. Well, here goes nothing.

"Hey! What the fuck is your fucking problem? You always go fucking storming around like that and causing shit? Can't a girl kiss her fucking husband anymore? Some kind of fucking law against that now?"

[derek_morgan]

The locked eyes was broken by a familiar voice calling from behind. Deb. There was finally a reason to quit smiling, even with the mask on. His brow furrowed behind the item but could be discerned by looking at his eyes. Words evaded him. He swallowed thickly and looked between both women, completely unable to tell them apart. While the one he kissed most certainly sounded like the Debra Morgan he knew and loved, the other stared with very familiar eyes.

Everything that happened with Emily hadn't even made him flinch. This, however, left a strange feeling at the pit of his stomach. Derek didn't feel hate or anger but sensed something was wrong. He couldn't remember West specifically and all the tricks the man had put him through. Hints of it began to seep through. The trio of Morgans stood staring at each other like a bizarre Mexican standoff.

"What the hell is this?" he finally asked. Not even the mask could subdue his feelings of mistrust. Derek panned back and forth, visibly defensive yet standing firmly between both women.

[fucktonofcoffee]

Oh. Oh. Oh fuck no this bitch didn't. There was no fucking way that the bitch had just gone and done the stupid thing that she had started to do. Deb's jaw set quickly, her entire body becoming completely molded out of steel forged in anger. This fucking stupid bitch. Her eyes narrowed behind the mask and the perfectly applied make up, and she quickly took a step forward, the balance already altered by her aggressive stance becoming even more off balance based on the additional inches the giant stupid strapey heels gave her.

"Call him your husband again and I'm going to fucking remove my face from your skanky fucking cheekbones with my fucking elbow, bitch." The words were a snarl, because Deb was feeling more than a little possessive right now. Detective Morgan had more than a little bit of an issue with feeling possessive over people even when she wasn't being influenced to find them important, and there was the added piece of the fact that Debra Morgan actually gave a fuck about Derek.

"That bitch has my face," she growled and took an aggressive step towards the woman, her hand extended. The other hand moved furiously toward the open back of her dress for the gun that she was missing from the moment she had arrived here. Fuck did she want that right now. "That's what's going on here." With Debra's hand extended, the wedding and engagement ring she couldn't remove were prominently on display.

[irish_bombshell]

It was at this point that Fiona realized that hey, she didn't actually do anything wrong. She put on her mask the way everyone else apparently had and she hadn't started the kiss. She was just having a little fun at this freak who came flying out of nowhere at her in a rage.

"Spunky, aren't we," she said, smirking playfully. Fiona crossed her arms across her chest, looking completely comfortable in her own heels. She laughed outright at the threat. "Oh please, I'd love to see you try. You'd probably fall over before you could even swing, honey."

Fiona briefly considered explaining it was just the mask she got and that really, nothing had happened. She wouldn't have said anything at all if this chick hadn't freaked the hell out. Maybe they didn't understand how things worked around here, but honestly, could the woman not see one of West's tricks when it jumped up and bit her in the husband?

[derek_morgan]

It rapidly became clear who the real Debra Morgan was. The women he wrongly kissed was dangerously feisty. Derek returned to being amused once the confusion subsided. "Now, Babe...Last time you went and hit somebody, it didn't work out too good for either of us." He wrapped his left hand around her waist and held up his bandaged right to remind her.

In the lax state of mind, he didn't remember the details but there was a hazy thought of Deb clocking him and her socking West. "Let the freak show have her fun. This is a party. You look way too sexy tonight to throw down." Derek held no tease in his voice. He leaned his forehead against hers and wrapped both arms around her.

Derek swayed slowly and held not a care in the world as he gazed at his assigned partner. She really did look wonderful that evening. Never mind that he kissed the wrong version. He leaned in and attempted to correct his wrong.

[fucktonofcoffee]

Oh hell no, this bitch had gone and added fire to the flames. Deb was attempting really hard not to give into how good the anger in her felt. It did feel good; warm and bright in her veins; the feeling of fighting had come dangerously close to feeling how good fucking was. Some part of Debra Morgan's brain, the small part that occasionally told her to calm the fuck down, warned her about this fact.

The warning was validated when Derek mentioned the fact that the last time she'd punched someone it hadn't worked out too well. That was right, one fucking punch had sent her to the god damn cornfield with fucking Catwoman, and the second had ended up making her end up in a lonely fucking bed she shouldn't have had to deal with. Normally Deb didn't get so fucking riled up; she didn't know why Derek could do this too her.

However, when he touched her, she relaxed; it was almost like a switch. She closed her eyes when he leaned his forehead against her, and arms snaked around his fucking neck. Damn right, he was hers and her racing and raging heart calmed the fuck down finally. When he leaned in to kiss her, she kissed him right fucking back, pressing her body to his. Fuck that stupid fake bitch; she could deal with her once she was done with this.

[irish_bombshell]

Fiona was actively trying not to laugh. She hadn't had this much fun in ages! Probably because she hadn't met anyone this easy to rile up in a long time, and that's really saying something, considering her line of work. She actually felt bad for her husband. People had called her crazy in the past, just because she liked to blow up bad guys, but she'd never flown off the handle like this chick before.

Then again, she'd never come across someone who looked like herself making out with Michael.

She shrugged to herself and watched the other two interact. It was always interesting to watch young love... well that and she still expected Mrs. Crazypants to attack her at any moment, even if she did seem to be much calmer now.

"Well, isn't this sweet. Guess Taming of the Shrew was based on a true story." She didn't quite know why she was taunting her, but it sure was fun. She hadn't had a real fight in too long.

[derek_morgan]

It was strange hearing Deb behind him while kissing her. Or maybe it was hearing Deb manage whole sentences without expletives. Granted, the snark was a lot like original Debra Morgan. Derek couldn't help but smirk into the kiss. His arms remained snug around the one kissing him as he broke the contact.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think somebody's jealous." Derek grinned fiendishly, not giving away which Deb he was referring to. He wasn't the possessive type. That required a lack of confidence that he didn't possess. His weakness was of another variety. If a woman moved onto greener pastures, it was because he wasn't good enough. She moved onto something better. He considered himself far from a prize. Even if he had started to long for some kind of normalcy.

Debra Morgan had started to give him that. Courtesy of West, of course. They were a married couple (even if it was a crash course). The sheriff and wife. Their home, an actual house. It felt good, and utterly amused him in the moment, to have his faux wife staking claim against the fake version of herself. Derek grinned in the smitten intoxicating manner the mask had a tendency of making him express.

[fucktonofcoffee]

Deb didn't break the kiss while Fiona attempted to rile her up again. She had what she wanted: her husband's arms around her, and everything else didn't even really matter. For a moment she didn't say anything, and she let her fingers do the talking. Well, in this case she gave the tramp the one fingered salute.

Fuck that girl.

She tutted when he said that someone was jealous. Of course she was jealous, after all she'd always been the jealous type. For Deb, most of the time attention equaled love. She'd spent a good portion of her life being ignored and wanting attention and now she fucking had that and wanted to keep it snug as a bug in her arms. She wrapped her arm more tightly around him, because Derek Morgan was definitely a prize in her eyes.

"Let's dance," she added, wanting to get away from Fiona as quickly as she possibly could.

[irish_bombshell]

Fiona laughed outright at the jealous comment. "Sounds more like you trying to get some creepy threesome action," she said blatantly. If there was one thing that Fiona knew, besides guns and explosives, it was men and when men told a woman they were jealous, it always had to do with sex.

"I like you," she directed to Deb. "A bit crass for a lady, but definitely a respectable set of balls. I can definitely see who wears the pants in that relationship." She chuckled, but was quickly becoming bored with the scene. She looked around trying to see if there was anyone else she could mess with, maybe Eric. Now that would be a good time.

[derek_morgan]

Derek had no way of knowing what went on behind his back but knew, even in his intoxicated mask state, that getting the original Debra Morgan away from the faux version was a good idea. The comment about a threesome was intriguing if there was a chance in hell the original article would be interested. Not even the mask could get him to believe that one.

He laughed off the comment about who wore the pants. "You're sadly mistaken, Sweetheart. When the two of us are together, nobody wears much of anything." Derek winked at the Deb in his arms as he walked her carefully backward toward the dance floor. "Ain't that right, Baby?"

The mask was a beautiful thing. Everything was beautiful. The music. The people walking around. The scenery. The one wearing the matching wedding band in his arms. Derek would gladly slip away for sex but he wasn't staring with solely wanting eyes. There was a relaxed expression of genuine affection and enjoyment that outweighed a drive for carnal pleasures. However, it wouldn't take much to stoke those embers.

Sorry for the late.

[fucktonofcoffee]

Deb rolled her eyes about the creepy threesome action, but she didn't comment on it. Let the woman think whatever her little fucking heart wanted too, Debra Morgan was pretty straight and she certainly wasn't going to break that for having sex with someone in a her mask.

She really wasn't that conceited.

Deb was however, rather amused by the way that her set of balls was mentioned. "Well, I'm glad you approve. Who the fuck are you when you're not borrowing my face?" But her fingers rolled up and down Derek's arms for a moment, in a manner both protective and predatory. She was happy just being here and touching him, even if the idea of getting naked later seemed like a good idea too.

No worries. :D

[irish_bombshell]

Fiona chuckled and shook her head. "Oh sweetie, you act like I wanted this face. I didn't borrow anything. I put on the mask I found, just like everyone else here. It was West who thought something like this would be funny. I'm just trying to make the best of the situation."

Grabbing another drink from the table behind her, she shrugged at them. "Well, I'm bored. You two have fun making out like teenagers," she said, as she turned to walk away, calling over her shoulder, "I'm Fiona by the way. Good to meet you both." She smirked again and continued on.