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derek_morgan April 16 2011, 20:47:52 UTC
The previous twenty-four hours were a stark contrast from the day before. Familiarity offered quite the comfort. Emily had aided his recovery from his poor decisions after the fall out with Deb. Derek had managed to avoid the other Morgan, or maybe she simply wasn't looking. As usual.

However, all the bitterness he had contained was gone after donning the black mask at the Sheriff Station. His hand was still injured but not something Derek paid much attention to. In fact, the mask had a better effect than the pills Wilson prescribed.

Hangover was gone and he returned from the station to home for a change out of the uniform Emily had retrieved for him. She had been kind enough to pick up a set of casual clothes as well but Derek had a specific outfit in mind. Even in the chaos with Deb, memory recalled a black suit in his closet ( ... )

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emily_prentiss April 16 2011, 22:18:43 UTC
Being one of the newest arrivals to town, Emily knew very little of West's previous exploits. Sure, Derek had told her a few things, as had her unconventional housemate Abby, but all in all she hadn't found anything particularly strange about the mask. Well, other than the weird desire to put it on.

Which she did, if only after Morgan had donned his and seemed no worse for it. And the second she had hers snug against her face she understood why. Every single thing that she hadn't even known was bothering her ceased to be even the slightest of problems.

Hell, it seemed silly to even think there was such a thing as problems. Life was just great. And no one would've been able to tell her otherwise ( ... )

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Jumping in at RC's request/demand. fucktonofcoffee April 17 2011, 01:25:06 UTC
Deb had found a white mask, and she'd held onto the damn thing for a good long time before she'd slipped it on. When she pulled it on, she found that nothing else mattered. It was a balm for the anger that coursed through her veins and the echoing pain in her chest. After all, nothing mattered, not Jim leaving, not Derek being the world's worse fucking asshole, nothing ( ... )

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Rawr derek_morgan April 17 2011, 03:02:48 UTC
Emily had barely returned with drinks when Derek caught the glimmer of the mask on the feminine body heading toward him. He recognized the eyes and lips, moreover, the matching wedding band on the woman that charged toward him. The mask had taken quite the hold of him. There was nothing but a smile on his lips as Deb walked up.

The kiss was unexpected but Derek needed no prompting. His left hand held out the drink so it wouldn't spill on anyone but his wounded right carefully slipped around the slender body against his. Kissing for an audience wasn't on his dossier but there were influential masks involved. And maybe he needed the demanding affection regardless of influences.

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jusonepistachio April 16 2011, 22:44:06 UTC
Abby Sciuto was high ( ... )

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csi_eric_delko April 16 2011, 22:52:34 UTC
After the little back and forth with Fiona over the journal, Eric had decided to try on the mardi gras jester mask. It was just a mask. Even if it had some kind of mask property like the film of the same name that had starred Jim Carey, Eric could always take it off ( ... )

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jusonepistachio April 17 2011, 04:41:24 UTC
Abby's answering grin was wide, gray-green eyes shining behind the mask. "That an order or an offer?" she said, leaning forward, palms on the bar edge.

She gave him a less than subtle once over, decorum a nicety that didn't seem all that pressing. She was liking everything anyway, but he was definitely no slouch in the looks department. And she liked that too.

Returning her gaze to his, her grin went more teasing. "Though I'm not sure there's a beach around here. Maybe a lake though. I think a nice skinny dip might be a better choice."

She gave him a quick wink, flirty but not without a trace of good old innocent fun too. "Unless you have something else in mind."

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csi_eric_delko April 17 2011, 05:09:53 UTC
Oh, she not only was quick enough to know how to decipher his innuendo but played along in a more than friendly manner. Eric was impressed. And growing increasingly excited. His hands splayed on the counter as well, near hers as they seemingly sized each other up.

"Lake it is," he answered huskily with his grin matching hers. "Less sand rubbing in sensitive areas." A chuckle grumbled from his chest as their eyes were locked. He was about to ask when they would leave then a woman walked past.

Not as shapely as the one in red but just as easy on the eyes from where he stood, the new arrival grabbed the tie of one of the patron's and pulled the man into a kiss. "Damn. Guess I should've worn a tie."

Eric brought his gaze back over at the barkeep with his lips tugged in a smirk. "But then that guy looks like the Dark Knight while I'm favoring the Joker. ...Who was your favorite?" He folded his arms between where her hands rested and leaned in.

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house_onthehill April 17 2011, 18:01:58 UTC
Sitting in a corner of the bar, enjoying himself of virgin drink mixed with 1950's Dextromethorphan and Codeine, was House. Wearing a blank mask, he honestly did NOT want to be recognized by the populace inside, partying their lives away. He finally got over being blind by Morse-code trolling with Fiona but what he really, REALLY wanted was to have Wilson again. They were so happy before all this mess but when Amber came back to life, that in of itself almost destroyed House's resolve. HOW CAN YOU COMPETE WITH A GIRLFRIEND, BACK FROM THE DEAD? He tried to rationalize it that Wilson was going through a curious phase with - and the thought died there with Greg's appetite.

So he made himself a recluse and hid away in the building, letting Amber have her time with James...for the time being. He had a plan and that was to use this mask thing to get closer and talk to him as he would before the memory swipe.

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manipulatvebtch April 18 2011, 01:28:17 UTC
Wilson had been chatting up Emily for minutes, hours, days... he didn't know and the idea of time didn't really occur to him. All he knew was that drink refreshers were needed, stat. He excused himself and headed over to the bar. God, when was the last time he'd felt this damn good? He felt high on life and it was like everyone in the room was suddenly happy and open, and god damned attractive. He hadn't felt this flirtatious since he was married to Bonnie.

It was then that he noticed the familiar figure sitting by himself in the corner. It was strange to see him in the blank mask, though he couldn't really figure why. It seemed to change House's face in Wilson's mind more so than he ever would've thought. Still, it felt like it had been forever since he'd seen the man and he missed him, and this night was not a night for any sort of downer. He would miss his best friend no more ( ... )

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house_onthehill April 19 2011, 04:05:38 UTC
"That's because I want to have witnesses for when I drink my body weight in alcohol...though you're beating me to it," House remarked, taking one last shot of the booze and staring at the gaudy mask and the man behind it. Wilson being this flirtatious meant one thing and one thing only: Amber had slept with him and he was horny. The devil in Gregory House came out for a second in the form of a dastardly idea: he was definitely going to enjoy this.

Letting his cane tap James' leg, he swiped it quickly, if to just elicit a response. "Can't be that big a surprise; you're not making a spectacle of yourself."

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manipulatvebtch April 19 2011, 04:35:58 UTC
Wilson laughed, though part of him realized it wasn't really funny. In fact, he wasn't quite sure he understood at all. Why would House wear a mask that covers most of his identity to get witnesses? But as soon as the slight concern entered his mind, it left again and he found himself once again feeling nothing but happiness at the sight of his wayward friend.

"And why would I make a spectacle of myself?" he asked, raising an eyebrow but still smiling. His hand remained on House's shoulder and he squeezed slightly. It felt unnaturally good to just touch the other man. This didn't concern him like it normally would've though, so instead when he felt the cane tap his leg, he let his hand slip off his shoulder and down his back.

Another brief thought that this should concern him flittered through his mind, but it didn't stick.

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