"Begrudging the poor man a last look, DuSollier? Or angry because it's nothing more than a look?" Rashida smiles at Cassie as she and Ingilstadt twirl by. "Any of us may be dead soon enough. Why be stingy with photons?"
Shaking her head at Rashida's comment she cannot help but smile. "Look all you want then Taraz. I may be a libertarian but I don't let anyone take liberties - at least not without permission." she winks to the noble.
"I bet you did, Cassonova." she laughs gently, though it has a naughty edge.
The zombie chuckles, obviously happy that the situation has defused. He returns to a table, picking up a fluted glass and examining it before shaking his head.
"I have already had plenty to drink, I think, and obviously cannot hold my liquor as well as the wastrel. Though I'm in general steady on my feet, any more and I may need a cane to support myself!"
He tips the flute towards Cassie and sits down, sighing.
In the middle of a conspiratorial chat, Dame Devries suddenly jumps and flushes bright red. As one of the Baron's Serv-bots skitters out from under her dresses she furiously chases after it and stops it to pieces. She stops for a moment, breathing heavily, and retrieves a note that has found its way inside her dress. After reading it her faces flushes even deeper and she strides directly toward Taraz.
She slaps the wastrel hard, stepping into the blow and putting all her weight behind it. Her hand stings but the print emblazoned on his smug face (or what can be seen of it, below the mask) makes it entirely worth the pain.
She angrily turns away before she yields any more of her dignity to the scoundrel. How had the man so managed to raise her ire after such a brief meeting? She'd stared down warlords and convicted felons without losing her composure- it was as though there was something familiar about the man that triggered an instant dislike. And perhaps a tinge of... guilt?
"Lord of the serv-bots!? Of all the ridiculous, pretentious, infantile, ..." (the muttered invectives continue at some length as she storms off)
Cassie is surprised and leans to the nearest party-goer; "Wow, another beautiful women. Taraz seems to go for go for anything with a pulse. So the Baron is safe, then." she says with a wink.
Eldon can't help but let out a guffaw at Alessandra's reaction. "My boy, that's a war you should be careful of."
"I take it you know all the flanks and strategies to get around some womens flanks?" Cassie asks the General.
Rashida bows an apology to her current partner and sweeps away from the dancers, stooping to retrieve Vorian Ritter's cane from its place on the floor and handing it with a flourish to Baron Von Zombie. "Maybe this will help you last longer in the dance, Baron. Myself, I shall stop now before my shoes play the assassin. Damn these heels!" She sinks gracefully into her chair with a grateful sigh.
The zombie's booming laugh rings out once again.
"Interesting play, Lord Taraz . . . he says as he swirls his drink.
The zombie takes the cane and looks it over for a minute with interest.
"My gratitude, Most Holy, but Her Grace has simply proven too much for me on the dance floor, and these old bones require a rest."
He bows before relocating to a quieter corner where he stands still and silent, obviously lost in thought, leaving the cane for Lord Ritter to retrieve.
I wish to say now, as we approach the end of this first hour that I believe the masons need their time to work, along with the others who may or may not have revealed themselves yet. For this reason, I would like to throw my support in abstaining from any attempts to bring harm to others this first hour. I further will enforce my opinion by stating, that if any should vote to bring harm to another, I will vote against that person in the hope of ensuring no one dies. I hope the rest of you will aid me in this."
As the beautiful woman in black stomps off to pout, Taraz laughs loudly. What an arm! And such spirit, too.
Taraz seems unfazed by this display of affrontery. He snaps his fingers and Serv-bots from all parts of the room, of every shape and size descend on the pieces of their poor brother stepped on so deliberately by the mean Professor Moriar-...Alessandra. Taraz smiles in amusement as the crowd of robots reassemble the small drone with lightning speed. Then the group of Serv-Bots disperses, and once again seem to blend into the rest of the room. The reassembled bot looks around disoriented and at Taraz's coaxing runs to him. Taraz picks him up and places it near his ear.
Once again, Taraz bursts out laughing. "Who would have guessed? And she seems so proper." He places the small robot on the floor and it scurries off.
"Ridiculous, pretentious, AND infantile," Taraz can be heard murmuring. "Maybe she likes me."
Raising his arms to gather everyone's attention, Taraz says, "Thank you all for enduring my rather 'individual' means of communication. At this time I would like to say, after much deliberation, I would propose to follow the Baron Gigus' suggestion. However," Here Taraz stops and looks at everyone in turn.
"The problem then becomes that if all submit no vote, save one will that damn the one so named, Von Ryuko? Or will you permit a vote for Null to be as good as a vote for an actual participant a la fete?"
Cassie pulls a cork out of a wine bottle and takes a gulp. Things are hotting up.
"As put forth by others, I also will vote that no one be lynched until we have more information. I do not neglect to vote, rather I do vote, and that vote is for no violence by the group this hour."
The baron slowly makes his rounds about the hall, nodding here, smiling there, a whispered greeting occasionally. Finally, he stands near Ingilstadt, and bows before him.
"I, of course, vote as Lord Ingilstadt has. I will not lynch any one of you unless we know you mean us harm. Even in this brief time I have known all of you, I have seen much to admire: courage, audacity, intelligence. Beauty, grace, eloquence. Even, he grins knowingly, "zeal for life and all its pleasures.
"I vote against paranoia! Against fear! Against death!"
Meowselsworth looks to Duke Leto Atredies once she is deposited on his shoulder by Baron Gigus Von Zombie. "Well, I suppose you are my next dance partner. And indeed, I would agree, I would vote against death at this time," says Meowselsworth. "Duke Leto Atredies, may I have this dance?"
If accepted, once again Meowselsworth dances. It is still adorable.
"Suspicious are not proofs. Personal distaste should not be a death sentence. I would choose life as well," Rashida murmurs softly, "Any who are unwilling to go against that consensus I suspect of being an assassin out for a free reward. We may lose someone to assassins, but the rest of us need not stoop to that level."
Jin smiles at the dancing cat - In this insane dinner party, at least there's something genuine to smile at. It *is* adorable.
Jin turns back to the group, raises his glace, "I agree with the group's reasoning: Let's give our investigators and Masons some time to find these assassins. Voting to lynch someone at this hour would be a blind guess with no way to attach motive. I too vote for non-violence this hour!"
Cassie leans back lighting a cigarette, watching as many profess a love of life. Waiting for one of them to kill.
She flicks her fan open and wafts the smoke away.
Rashida gapes for a moment at Leto's crude joke, then remembers her breeding and snaps her mouth shut with a discernible click of teeth.
Watching Cassie blow a thin stream of smoke through pursed lips, she remonstrates quietly, "Careful. Those things will kill you."
"Well, hopefully I will live to see that day. As would we all..." she pauses "well most of us." she says archly looking around the hall.
Cassies puts the cigarette out on an empty plate; "I hope it didn't disturb you? Turkish. I got them whilst visiting Byzantium."
Rashida stares off into space, muttering, "Seems to... seems to... ohhhh..." Unstrapping her golden, high-heeled sandals, she rises to her feet and paces the length of the room barefoot, muttering to herself and fiddling with the golden snakes encircling her wrists.
Cassie gets up and moves to the noble lady a worried expression on her face; "Are you alright?" 'Has the assassin struck? Is she poisoned?' she puts her her hand gently on the masked womans' shoulder.
Rashida flinches at the touch, startled. "Wha?! Oh... no, no. I am fine. I need to think." She shakes her head distractedly. "We all need to think. Even if we vote for nobody to die right now, another hour will come, and another call for a vote." She pats Cassie's hand and gently removes it from her shoulder so she can resume pacing.
Taraz pours himself another drink and raises an eyebrow when Rashida suddenly displays some unusual behavior. He saunters over and cocks his head.
"Are you alright, my dear? I assure you the Duke's joke was not aimed at you."
Rashida laughs. "But I try to be well-spoken..."
There may or may not be a slight edge of hysteria in that laugh. Whatever the case, it is not a pleasant one.
Cassie back off not wanting to crowd the lady; "Of course."
She moves over to the wastrel; "Interesting, I wonder if everyone will be so reticent later on, hopefully so. Although if an assassin stalks those with 'the Sight' then more than one person could die to their blades this night."
"Once all the people with Sight are killed we are in the dark once more..." she says sadly.
"That depends on the game you play, my sweet DuSollier. Outwitting assassins is one of my favorite pastimes. It's the whisper of a traitor scryer that piques my interest. I play to oust him or her!" Taraz says with a wink.
"Incidentally, that's quite a nice wench...er, pardon me, I mean wrench you have there, Ms. Cassie."
Rashida stops dead at Taraz's words, head snapping to stare at the man. "Such a one would not be a paid assassin." she whispers, gears turning behind those black eyes like the ones in The Wastrel's busy little Serv-Bots.
Taraz takes a swallow from his goblet and nods at the newly paranoid Rashida. "Indeed, quite the twist. It's a first for me. Usually it's just the same boring attempts on my life. The notion is fascinating. I wish I had the means to divine motive and secret designs. Oh, what fun that would be!"
Taraz chuckles. "If I could do so, I would divine what delicious secrets our indignant diva hides behind her outrage and mourning."
Then Taraz sets down his goblet and releases the clasp of his hooded cloak. Taraz offers his hand to the nervous scion of the gods.
"Come, dear Rashida. I have not yet shown the skill a life of leisure has afforded me. And besides, a turn around the dance floor will help release that nervous energy you seem to have." Taraz smiles showing perfect white teeth, his eyes sparkling.
Taraz gestures to the orchestra, and they begin to play music to which one may dance a cha-cha.
Rashida's eyes remain locked on Taraz. "Even if you had that ability, why would anyone believe you? You would have no more credibility than Dame Devries with her claim to be a Mason. And a scryer who was also a traitor could be most destructive. They would need to be taken out like the viper they are." Her fingers stroke a snake-bracelet, which unwinds and rewinds about her wrist, settling itself more comfortably.
At Taraz's invitation to dance, she nods and glides to his side, still barefoot. "Try not to step on my toes, Lord Rorenson."
At the small handbag at her side, just sticking out is the handle of a wrench. Cassie pull it out slowly; "I do like a shapely wrench, it's useful for gauging things." she hefts it professionally before putting it back down in the bag.
"Intriguing ploy Mr Taraz."
"I need another dance, and then another brandy, perhaps both."
"Hopefully not simultaneously?" Cassie jokes, and sensing the Dukes crude humour. "I would hate to be covered in a sticky fluid." she flicks the fan in front of her rapidly reddening face hoping no-one had heard the 'quip'.
She holds out her hand if the Duke wish another turn.
Taraz bows low over Rashida's hand bringing it just shy of his lips. When he returns upright, some petite Serv-Bots appear, run up to him and deftly take Taraz's boots as he steps out of them. The color of the hose beneath is a deep purple and matches well with the midnight blue and silver of his trousers. Taraz smiles with a wink.
"Your servant." And Taraz leads Rashida like one who has spent a great deal of time dancing, drinking and making merry. In other words, expertly.
One-two-cha-cha-cha.
After casting his vote, Gigus takes a seat at an empty table, the blue eyes of his mask following the dancers, his wasted hands idly tracing designs on the tabletop in spilled wine. He is clearly lost in thought, though he occasionally smiles to himself.
If nothing else, I enjoy the beauty of the music; the grace and beauty of my companions that I will never possess myself; and clearly anyone who harms a single hair on the hide of that precious feline Duchess is going to be torn limb-from-limb by the entire party.
"Well, I will not cast the first vote. Is everybody ready to Wang Chung tonight?"
Rashida places her hand in Taraz's, laughs a much healthier laugh at the boot removal and the ServBots' antics, and follows The Wastrel's lead around the ballroom floor, tension wearing away with the exertion of the dance.
As the song winds down, the dancers are given a moment to catch their breath before the next song comes on. Some kind of smooth jazz for dancing slow and close begins playing. The saxophone is sexy and draws the ear.
Taraz once again offers Rashida the chance to dance with a gleam in his eye.
Rashida hesitates briefly at the look in Taraz's eye, then again lays her hand in his, face determined.
Stretching as she gets to her feet, Cassie watches as the group all dance together. "This has been a lovely ball so far. Rashida, you come from the Near East, Egypt I believe? Which dynasty?"
"Theirs promises to be a most interesting partnership," Gigus observes quietly, watching Taraz' and Rashida's elegant dance.