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Mystery at the Masked Ball
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Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Feb-26-2007 02:51

It was Wednesday night when Miss Violet Parr got out of a black car, and walked towards the steps of the large building that appeared to face her in the pitch black darkness of the night.

The loud music, blinding lights and sharp noises of laughter and chatter emitting from the large building did not deter Miss Parr from taking a few more confident steps towards the building, the length of her violet velvet dress trailing behind her. A cold chill came over her and she tightened the purple feather boa she was wearing around her bare shoulders. “So this is what he turned the place into.” She commented casually to herself.

Before her stood what once was the Marquee Theatre. Newly designed and quite obviously fully refurbished from the inside as well. Miss Parr reviewed her findings: The ownership of the Marquee has been transferred to Mrs. Georges and her husband Mr. Georges, the previous owner, was nowhere to be found.

The infamous socialite Mrs. Georges had, quite expectedly, turned the Theatre into a Ball Room/Party Hall, and reduced its long creative theatrical history to one long ongoing party. What was once the Marquee Theatre was now the Marquee Grand Hall.

Though the Marquee was not very popular with the New York crowds, Miss Parr more often than not enjoyed viewing the classic shows the Marquee produced whilst she awaited Mr. Georges’ availability or her own recreational benefit.

Miss Violet Parr was determined to expose whatever information Mrs. Georges had to hide. Though she has never met the lady before, Violet was certain that the answers to her most pressing questions would somehow lie under the layers of fur and jewels that Mrs. Georges choose to bury herself in for most newspaper photographs.

Right before she would enter the Marquee Hall, Violet wore a feathery purple mask that would conceal her identity. Tonight she was to be Miss Feathers once again, and she carefully chose to attend Mrs. Georges’ Masked Ball for this very purpose.

Replies

Christopher Keller
Christopher Keller
Well-Connected

Mar-1-2007 14:44

Christopher slipped on his white mask just before entering the Ball room. He was well aware that he was being rather unimaginative by wearing a normal tuxedo and a white sparkling mask. 'No better way to hide than being obvious' was the philosophy Chris adobted for this ball. He was aiming to appear dull and plain so as not to attract anybody's attention, allowing him to observe all the guests and their interactions without being noticed.

'Well, well, well' Chuckled Chris discreetly. He had just spotted the woman wearing the tutu. 'Someone seems to be adopting the exact opposite of his philosophy, for whatever purposes'. Christopher didnt recognise the figure and his gut told him that whomever it was, was not attending the ball for recreational purposes. Such dedication was hard not to respect. 'You'd never catch me in a tutu' Thought Chris even though he had the legs for it!

Before he managed to scar himself for life with thoughts of tutus and frills, Chris was saved the horror by a wiff of violet that seemed to appear out of nowhere. He couldnt help the lump that rose to his throat at the sight of the woman in violet. The violet mask she wore only served to enhance her porcelain ivory skin and gave it an angelic look. He had to close his eyes against the vision she presented and the memories it triggered. He woulod recognise that figure anywhere. It was the way she carried herself and how she always shrowded herself in violet clothing. Its been over a year since he last say his best friend and the painful memory of their last meeting was still fresh and painful.

cont...

Christopher Keller
Christopher Keller
Well-Connected

Mar-1-2007 14:49

'Keep it together Chris' He told himself sternly. 'You're here on a job so get it done'. As painful as his memories of his once best friend were, he couldnt ignore her presence all together although he'll be damned if he let her recognise him. He also knew better than to underestimate her. 'If I know one thing right now, its that you are here for the same reason I am my old friend' He muttered to himself and followed the woman's line of sight and landed on a plump woman with too much make-up on who appeared to have consumed too much alcohol already. He recognised the woman as the Ball's hostess at once.

'Right then, off to work'. Chris moulded himself back into the croud and settled more comfortably with his inspection of the hostess and everyone she chose to interact with.

Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Mar-2-2007 13:56

“It is Miss Violet Parr, Mrs. Georges. Apparently that is name of the young lady who sent the government after your husband.”

Violet Parr had gotten close enough to Mrs. Georges and her entourage of gentlemen to hear their conversation. As soon as she heard her own name being uttered, she quickly and skillfully turned her torso away from Mrs. Georges and pretended that her attentions were diverted elsewhere. She remained close enough to the Georges troop in order to hear their words.

“That silly girrrl! Ha! That silly, silly girrrl!” Mrs. Georges spoke with the thickest foreign accent Violet had ever heard. Her laugh came deep and high-pitched all at once, and even her archaic aura could be felt meters away. “She haz the nerrrve to beelieve my huzband to be bad and wish him eell!”

“My lovely Mrs. Georges,” Violet turned her head slightly to see Mrs. Georges' powdered hand being kissed by the man who just spoke. She continued to hear the conversation. “That Violet girl apparently works for a very high profile detective agency known to be a very close ally of the government.”

“Rrrumorrrs! All Rrrumorrrs! I assurrre my dearrr sirrr: Violet Barrrr iz nothing but an overrrsized, well-drrresseed, little baztarrrrd!”

Violet Parr’s jaw dropped at that. She was about to act upon instinct and turn towards Mrs. Georges and protest, but she noticed a man approaching her. “May I have this dance Miss…?”


Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Mar-2-2007 14:01

“It is Miss Feathers. You may... if you introduce to Mrs. Georges. I have been very keen to meet her.” Miss Parr improvised as fast as she could think.

“Why that is no problem.” The man smiled. “I am Mr.-”

“Let us leave further introductions till after I have met Mrs. Georges.”

The man eyed Miss Violet Parr with suspicion, then proceeded to lock her arm into his, and crossed with her over to Mrs. Georges directly. “Mrs. Georges, please meet my companion for the evening. This is Miss Feathers.”

“Ooh? I have neverrr hearrrd of a Miss Featherrrrs beforrrre.” Mrs. Georges casually brushed her hand against the man’s chest, then turned away from them altogether and attempted addressing another gentleman.

Miss Parr quickly spoke clearly and loudly over the party noise. “Mrs. Georges, it is indeed an honour to finally meet you.”

Mrs. Georges turned with a curious look on her face. “You English?”

“Oh yes! However, I have been told that my accent is relatively plain considering-”

“I utterrrly desbize the English… Everrrything English I desbize… Yourrr tea, Yourrr rrridiculouz clock, even yourrr silly Queen!” Mrs. Georges shot out a vulgar laugh from the depths of her trunk. Miss Parr on the other hand was horrified.

“I am sorry…” Miss Parr attempted speaking. “I am… Come again?”

“What? You do not underrrrstand English?” Mrs. Georges laughed once more before Violet realized that her charm, proper tongue and prim appearance will get her nowhere with this vulgar woman. She decided to resort to plan B, and her plan Bs always included some demonstration of violence.


Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Mar-2-2007 14:06

Violet Parr reached into the depth of her purple purse, took out a tiny sealed container and violently broke it upon the floor. Smoke filled the area, and a huge commotion ensued. In the midst of the craziness, shouts, and screams of ‘FIRE’, Miss Parr managed to violently grab hold of Mrs. Georges, and twist her weak arm so that she could not move.

Mrs. Georges’ screams were lost amongst the screams of everyone else in the surrounding area as she was dragged across to the end of the Grand Hall by Miss Violet Parr in the midst of the anarchy that took place, and finally shoved into the ladies room. Mrs. Georges fell with force on the tiled floor, as Violet Parr entered the toilet and jammed the door lock behind her.

“Now that I have you all to myself Mrs. Georges, I was hoping that you would be more cooperative with my inquiries. Perhaps we can have a conversation that is free of insults and rudeness.” Miss Violet Parr smiled politely.

“What?! Who?! I am the calling the bolice! Now!” Mrs. Georges was trying to recompose herself, but the heavy alcohol she already had took its toll upon her.

“I am Miss Violet Parr, the young lady you just referred to as… Well never mind. I am sure you will not use such improper language now that we have finally properly met.”

Mrs. Georges, half drunk, finally got up and pushed Violet Parr out of her way. “Get out! Go! You bastarrrrd girrrrl!” Mrs. Georges pushed aside Miss Parr and made her way to the door.

With one slightly raised eyebrow, Violet Parr turned the plump middle-aged woman towards with strength and slapped her with determination. “This is for the vile descriptions you shower me with behind my back, and to my face.” Miss Parr took a deep breath and went on to speak. “Now Mrs. Georges, allow me to apologize for slapping you a second ago. It is not in me to show rudeness before my elders, yet, with your descriptions of me, you pushed me to the extremes of my weak humanity!”


Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Mar-2-2007 14:09

“You stubid child! You will bay for thiz Violet Barrrr!”

“It’s ‘pay’ and it’s Violet ‘Parr’.”

“That iZ what I say! Violet Barrr you will bay dearrrly for thiz!”

“P… Parr… You see…” Violet Parr’s words faded as her memory raced to her days as a girl in the Middle East: She recalled the days where she taught the little Arab boys and girls English at the local schools. No… Violet Parr was sure that the letter ‘P’ was not in the Arabic alphabet and as such, its pronunciation was not an option to most Arabs.

“Mrs. Georges… What is your first name?”

“I am Mizzes Aisha Georrrges! Wife to the one and only Frank Georrrges!”

“You are Arab!”

“Ha! I am Amerrricaannn! You may call yourrrself Brrritish! But you look nothing like them!”

“I am half English! My father is Sir Albert Parr!”

“Oh? Alberrrt’s daughterrr arrre you? Then in that case I haven’t zaid anything wrrrrrong! You arrrre a Baztarrrd! Barrr eyy”

“How dare you-” Violet briskly stopped. “Excuse me… did you just say Barry? You know Mr. Grant?”

“Who? Barrrr ey, that iz you ey?”

‘Ey’ Miss Parr translated to herself: that is ‘Yes’ in Arabic. ‘Barr Ey?’: ‘Parr yes?’ Was the Arab man with Mr. Georges referring to her? Were they planning on murdering her? Harming her and not Mr. Barry Grant?


Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Mar-2-2007 14:14

Miss Parr shuddered as she turned once more to Mrs. Georges. “Why does your husband plan to harm me?”

“Hee iz rrrich. Hee iz bowerrrful. He muzt get you out of the way. I cannot ztob it.”

“Excuse me? What does that mean? What do I have to do with him?” Violet Parr was losing her usual serenity getting highly agitated and restless.

“You arrre Alberrrt Barrrr’z daughterrr arrre you not?”

“Don’t you dare mutter my father’s name!” snapped Miss Parr, being overly protective of her father.

Mrs. Georges started laughing out loud at that. ‘This no use’ thought Miss Parr. She needed one last piece of information, and in order to get it, she grabbed Mrs. Georges with both hands and started shaking her vigorously. “I need to know where your husband is right now!”

Mrs. Georges continued laughing hysterically, like a mad woman who just got more insane. The artificial white powder on her body started filling the aura around her. She was like an old piece of furniture being seriously dusted. Her croaking answer came choked with body-chilling laughter: “I zimbly don’t know!”

“Fine,” said Miss Parr. She stopped shaking Mrs. Georges and regained her composure. “Have it your way then.” Miss Parr continued as she got a revolver out of her shimmering purple purse. She pointed the revolver at Mrs. Georges and spoke loudly and clearly. “Mrs. Georges, I really hate doing this, but I need to know where Mr. Georges is. My life is at stake. You must have children my age. You must understand.”

“I do indeed.” Mrs. Georges gave Miss Parr a mocking smirk.

“Then stop lying, and tell me where Mr. Georges is.”

“Miss Barrrr. Let uz get one thing strrraight. I do not lie, and deed not lie with you yeet.” Mrs. Georges added with a sly smile. “If you arrre Alberrrt Barrrr’s daughterrr, then arrre indeed a Baztarrrd!”

Miss Parr was about to slap Mrs. Georges once more, but the noise of someone attempting to jerk the door of the toilet open both stopped and startled her.

Christopher Keller
Christopher Keller
Well-Connected

Mar-3-2007 06:15

'You have got to be kidding me. I have one drink, One!!! and you throw this in my face' Muttered Chris dispairingly, facing the ceiling. Everything was going well as he continued his vigil of Mrs Georges, he even noticed a few suspecious characters chatting with the loud hostess and planned to run a thorough history check on them later on. So he decides to accept the nice little waitress' offer to hand him a glass of champaign, nothin wrong with that is there! God help him he even drank the blasted thing.

But nooooo, he cant even have a drink without hell breaking lose. It would have looked suspecious dammit if he just stood there like an idiot watching people without even a drink to make him look more at ease with the general population of the Ball.

***
Ten minutes earlies...

He had just accepted the drink from the waitress when he glimpsed Ms Parr walking gracefully towards the centre of the hall just off the dance floor. He didnt fail to notice her inching her way closer to the small herd of hypocrites surrounding the Mrs Georges. Made him smirk slightly that did. 'Too polite to force your way into the conversation, but not above eavesdropping and using your admirers to get you where you need to be' Thought Chris fondly.

He was sipping his drink measuringly when he sensed something was amiss with the exchange between Violet and Mrs Georges. It was nothing outwardly obvious but his experience in reading people and fimiliarity of Mr Parr told him what he needed to know. Ignoring thoughts of the past, he studied the tightness of Violet's pursed mouth and her stiff shoulders. He only had a second's warning when her eyes narrowed dangerously before chaos ensued.

He did not let himself be distracted by the screams and panic that took over the room. Chris kept his eyes trained on his target regardless of how hard it was to see. He saw Violet grab Mrs Georges and drag her away in the direction of the toilets and made to follow them.

Cont...

Christopher Keller
Christopher Keller
Well-Connected

Mar-3-2007 06:32

SLAP

'Ouch' Thought Chris, 'I could practically feel that slap' He snickered to himself. His annoyance at Mr Parr's drastic measures melted away in the face of this most recent development. Chris was leaning against the toilet door listening to Ms Parr's rather creative new method of interrogation.

Mrs Georges drunken outrage and unwillingness to cooperate only served to make the whole affair more entertaining for Chris. His amusement over listening to the pair argue didnt prevent him from realising the seriousness of the situation. His quite snickering turned to cold fury as he discovered that Violet's life was at stake. The conversation was drowned by the sound of his heart thudding its way out of his ribcage. He swallowed his panic down and forced the bile back in his throught when he felt the hairs at the back of his head stiffen, the telltale sign that someone was approaching him from the back. He spun around just in time to deflect the first blow but not fast enough for the second one, it caught him right on his jaw and incapacitated him momentarily. When Chris regained his footing, he found his assailant had abandoned him to try and pry the door to the toilet open.

'Oh no you dont' Chris threw himself at the muscular torso infront of him and threw him off to the side and then proceeded to kick him in his groin before knocking him unconcious. After making sure to strip the man of any weapons he was carrying, Chris hid himself in a crevice off the wall and waited for Violet to come out of the toilet to make sure she left the Ball safely.

Violet Parr
Violet Parr
Thespian

Mar-7-2007 11:32

Violet Parr unlocked the door of the toilet in which she, more or less, interrogated Mrs. Aisha Georges, and was ready to confront any attacker. To her sheer surprise, a heavy man lay unconscious upon her feet. Miss Parr quickly wore her feathery purple mask, which she took off a minute ago before Mrs. Georges, and turned in time to see Christopher Keller in the shadows; she managed to prevent a scream.

“Christopher? Well oh for heaven’s sake, of all the people in this city!”

Christopher, always quick to act, was also swift with words. “Violet, you should leave, you are in grave danger!” He then made his ultimate observation for the night. “Yet you dress like purple target for any possible assailant!”

Violet looked at her clothes, and, puzzled, she muttered. “This is Violet not Purple!”

“Violet, you really need to leave now.”

“I am not done with this party or this woman.” Violet Parr pointed at a now collapsed Mrs. Georges, seemingly as a result of her fear of receiving yet another slap from Violet’s hand.

Christopher objected. “You can’t do this now! You’re in her territory!”

“I could care less if I was in her bedroom. This is not the time for a heightened sense of security Christopher… Oh… where are my manners.” Violet pulled from her purse a lilac handkerchief and attended to a bloody wound on Christopher’s face. “I see Violence is still your Mistress Christopher.”

“Ha! Violet, I heard that slap inside! Don’t preach what you don’t practice.”


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