Basteaux pulled at the tight collar of the crisp white shirt, the starched fabric stiff and itchy beneath the green suit jacket. He’d caught a glance of himself in the mirror when he’d been getting dressed and had to admit that he did clean up nicely, but that didn’t mean it was anything like comfortable to wear. He missed his own clothes rather fiercely already – but the worst part was the mask. He’d seen that in the mirror, too, and vehemently hated both the mask itself and the way it looked on him. For all its differences and decoration, it still reminded him too much of the Wood Wailers.
The kid who’d hired him didn’t seem to share the same sentiment. The boy couldn’t be more than twenty, full of energy and youthful enthusiasm. He’d quickly located the young lady he’d been hoping to meet with and left Basteaux to his own devices. The older Duskwight kept an eye on the younger from a distance, watching for any that might take exception to him. The overwhelming majority of Gridania’s Elezen citizens in particular had, in Basteaux’s eyes, never given him any reason to trust them.
So far Basteaux’s crossed arms and cold gaze had deterred most of the other attendees of the masquerade party from coming within less than a few fulms of him. It took him a few moments to register that the sweet female voice was speaking to him.
“I never thought I’d see you in something so fancy.”
He turned slightly to regard the woman who’d spoken. The first time they’d met she’d been masked as well, so it was actually easy to identify her with one now. “You thought right. It’s not something I would choose.” He offered the barest of smiles; it could almost be better described as his frown becoming less severe. “You look very nice.”
Destiney was beginning to think she was going to have a nice collection of new masks till she was done with attending these balls. Her dress had been simple yet elegant in it’s own fashion. The material soft against her skin. Lighting made it hard to tell if the dress was silver or silvery blue.
A smile curved her lips as she spotted his familiar form. From a distance she knew who it was almost immediately despite the mask and fancy clothes. There was only one person she knew that physically reminded her of Leon from this distance.
She moved to stand beside him as he answered her in return. Her hands loosely clasped together behind her back. Not exactly a very feminine way to stand while wearing a dress. But this was Basteaux and they were both hunters in their own ways. She wasn’t surprised he recognized her even with the mask. Even if it was a different mask then when they met. A mask was still a mask.
“Thank you.” She accepted his compliment with a warm smile. “I hope you don’t mind the company. I’m not exactly a fan of large gatherings like this myself. An you looked like you could use a companion who understands. That an we haven’t had a chance to discuss when we were going for drinks.”
Spirit of the Warlock 