Chapter Text
The letter following the RSVP told all of the party's guests that they're to arrive at a specific time as to not see anyone else arriving. At 8:15, just after the first star, a white beaten-up Toyota pulled up to the entrance gates about 3 miles from the actual manor. The valet, who the driver didn't know, asked for his keys and walked him to the awaiting carriage before storing the car away out of sight. A fifteen-minute horse-and-buggy ride later and he was walking through the elaborate entrance hall through the courtyard encircled by the manor's lengthy hallways. It was lush and green with a light stone fountain depicting fish spitting water from one level to the next until it waterfall-ed over the base bowl into the bottom to be pumped back up. Balconies overlooked the yard and looked to be decorated the same except for a few personal details, but not knowing anyone who lived there, nor knowing how anyone that lived there knew him, he couldn't tell who's room was who's.
The courtyard was empty except for one person. Their outfit matched the invitation's specifics, but it was far different from his own. Sat on a weathered stone bench sat someone with a classic white mask over their eyes made of what he guessed to be porcelain, steel pauldrons on each shoulder with a torn black cape that had to have been new but looked like it had been worn on a decade of questing was hanging off one of them. Underneath the armor, the person wore a black form-fitting muscle shirt, also thoroughly worn, and white jeans tucked into heavy boots. He thought that they had been watching him, but it was hard to tell with this dark hair covering their eyes over the mask. The elaborate costume made him feel self-conscious going with a crisply ironed black button-down left half open and tucked into black slacks. Instead of dress shoes he wore black converse and to conceal himself he used a basic black reusable mask and reflective sunglasses.
He wanted to go up and talk to whoever it was, but as soon as he started over they got up and made a note of walking away. He wasn't alone for long, as the courtyard started to fill. In exactly fifteen-minute intervals new guests walked through the door: the party ran like a well-oiled machine. After himself, someone dressed more simply with a white tee-shirt, black skinny jeans, and, oddly enough, a large decorative spider sewn to a strip of cloth tied around their mouth walked in and lingered around the edges of the party.
9:00- Someone in a long coat, white long-sleeved button-down, a charcoal vest, and a black and white swirled mask that covered half of their face and made him think of Phantom of the Opera arrived and seemed to have no issue striking up a conversation with the person in armor.
9:15- One person with a white sleeveless turtle neck with white fishnet sleeves underneath arrived with a crown of white flowers hiding their hair and the fanciest mask of anyone there covering around their eyes in a pearly detailed white and white face mask, equally detailed under it, contrasted greatly with plain white jeans that looked to already have mud stains around the ankles, even more littering the fresh white vans. They sat where the armored person had and started took out their phone, case-less.
9:30- The last to arrive, evidently, showed up in a full plague doctor costume. The beak must have been actually stuffed with herbs as once in a while the wearer would start coughing, and at one point even took out a sprig of rosemary and subtly dropped it to the ground.
The small party of people lingered for a bit, no more conversation other than Trench Coat and Armored Adam as he had dubbed them. He and Spiderface kept sharing uneasy glances, and he assumed it was because of the ominousness-ness of the situation. At 10:00 the host of the party made himself known by walking loudly out onto one of the overhanging balconies and tapping a knife to a wine glass.
"A-Ten-Tion!" The host called in a put-on accent, "I'd just like to give a big thanks to all of you for coming! I'm happy to announce we have one hundred percent attendance, so isn't that just lovely. I couldn't have done it without you!" The six guests looked between each other curiously, but the host didn't notice or didn't care, "I chose you all specifically because you've each held my interest for quite some time, and I was shocked to learn you all have... certain... connections- to one another. I will be hosting these parties every Friday night, with each of your arrival times fitted specifically to your schedule, and don't worry, I obtained these schedules through nothing but wholesome and legal measures, and I will continue to host them until you all have,,, gotten to know each other a little better. Better in ways you never could if you knew who exactly was underneath these measly little masks. I expect to see socialization, but to get the ball rolling I will have servers coming around with platters of drinks and appetizers. Now, with all of my introductions out of the way, I'd like you all to start on your own. Your host, Thomas," he poised the hand not holding the glass of wine over his chest to reference himself, "wishes you all to have a great evening, and many more to follow,"
He was relieved when Thomas ended his speech with a toast no one could reciprocate and left for the room leading to the balcony. Spiderface, however, made a beeline for him as soon as Thomas was out of sight and his nerves were right back on edge.
"Why have you been staring at me?" Spiderface asked, " 'Cause I don't like it,"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I honestly didn't mean to stare. You have a very unique disguise. I was worried I would be under-dressed after seeing that person with all the armor," He gestured over to where Armor Adam and Trench Coat were talking again, "What can I call you?"
"The Spider, duh," The Spider brushed off. His voice didn't feel natural, like he was straining to conceal its natural tone, "What can I call you?"
"Uh,,, The Handler?"
"Well then," The Spider sighed, "I'm going to go get the rest of the introductions out of the way. Stop staring,"
"Got it," The handler nodded, and decided on his own next target. He decided on the two that had held his interest most of the evening and were conveniently still talking.
"Hey," He said as he walked up to them, "I really like both of your outfits. What inspired them?"
"Is it too much?" Armor Adam asked, "I feel like it's too much,"
"I assured you that it's fine," Trenchcoat said everything as if it had been rehearsed, "Mine had little outside inspiration. A formal setting dictates a formal outfit, and with the temperature dropping, I didn't want to freeze to death. I can't imagine how The Breaker is doing,"
"The Breaker?"
"That gentleman over there with the tank top," Trenchcoat pointed, and The Handler noticed he had a leather glove on only his left hand.
"Yeah, it is getting a bit cold," He laughed, "So, he's The Breaker, I'm The Handler, and you are..?"
"The Judge," The handler nodded then looked to Armor Adam.
"The Knight, and I'm pleased to meet you. What inspired your outfit?"
"Oh you know," He suddenly felt foolish, "You know those, like, James Bonds movies or whatever and they always have the hot guys dressed like this? That,"
" 'The hot guys'?" The Judge asked, "...Noted," For whatever reason, The Handler felt his face light up behind his mask and glasses.
"I, uh, have noted that you noted that. Well, I'll let you two get on with your conversation, and I hope to talk to you again at some point throughout the night. Both of you," He made a point of looking back to The Knight before breaking away and skimming through the crown for the plague doctor, evidently easy to find because of the beak.
The plague doctor was lingering in the corner of the courtyard surrounded by a murder of crows that seemed to have adopted them as their own. The Handler slowly walked over, but no matter how cautious he was they flew off at his arrival. The Plague Doctor let his head drop comically in disappointment before turning towards the disturbance.
"Hey," The Handler said softly as though he might scare away the person as well, "How are you doing?"
"Been better," A deep voice behind the mask responded, "Wish my crows hadn't left,"
"I'm sorry, I tried not to startle them,"
"I know and appreciate that. I'm The Doctor,"
"Fitting! I'm The Handler. 'Your' crows? Did you train them?"
"Less training, more befriended. Trained implies that I own them when we're actually equals. It took a while to earn their trust, but now that I have it they follow me almost everywhere," The handler thought that he was mistaken in picking up a rude tone until The Doctor finished, "I know that I can't control everyone around me,"
"Oh no, It's not like that! It's -" He remembered the fourth rule for expulsion: Revealing identifying information at any point during the party, "It's... not like that,"
"I'm sure it is, but that's aside from the point. My mind, at least, goes straight to some less than ideal things,"
"Yeah definitely not like that,"
"Moving on, who all else have you talked to?"
"The Judge and The Knight," Patton pointed to them in front of one of the ivy-covered cobblestone walls, "The Spider," He moved over to the fountain where he sat by himself watching the water, "and you. I head that he-" He pointed over to where the last of the group was by himself seaming to be watching The Spider, "is The Breaker. He's the last I have to introduce myself to. Have you talked to everyone?"
"No," The Doctor said almost with a scoff, "You're the only one who's come over to talk to me. The only reason I came in the first place is because I know how rich and crazy these people are and I don't want them, like, hiring a hit-man for me or something,"
"I had a feeling they weren't all there," The Handler agreed, "I mean Thomas's speech gave me an idea, but if they're really that bad, maybe we are off better just coming and talking to each other for a few hours and going on our way,"
"Unless they get too crazy and we don't get to leave after we 'know each other a little better',"
"...Yeah. Didn't think of that,"
"Might as well make the best of it while we're here though. Go talk to The Breaker and I'll see if the crows come back,"
"Best of luck!" He waved goodbye and went to set across the bench from his next suitor.
"You're The Breaker, right? I'm The Handler," He held out his hand for him to shake it. The Breaker merely looked up from his phone, which he had brought back out, and nodded before diverting his attention away again, "Did you make the flower crown yourself?" He got a nod in response, "It's very pretty!" The Handler guessed that he got a small smile based on the twitch behind the mask. Before they could actually have a proper conversation a bell chimed from the tower signaling the first person to depart, another detail they got in their RSVP response. The Handler was the second scheduled to leave, but The Knight was evidently the first as he walked by the pair on the bench briskly giving them each a curt nod and smile.
The bench kept silent as the rest of the courtyard, and it felt longer than fifteen minutes for the second dismissal bell. Instead of shouting goodbyes across the courtyard like he was compelled to do, The Handler decided on a more discreet exit and just slipped out the closest exit without so much as a word.
The same carriage driver took him to the edge of the grounds, where the same valet had his car running and warm for him as soon as he stepped out of the buggy. At the stop sign at the end of the lane leading to the main road, he took off his sunglasses and mask, flipping down the sun visor's small dirty mirror, and taking a second to brush back a strand of hair that had fallen from the rest of it slicked back throughout the evening. Night one of many to come, apparently, of looking good and getting flirted with: successful.