#starcmasquerade

“This seems a bit ostentatious, don’t you think?” she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Honestly. I don’t think the festival needs to be so extravagant just to prove whatever point the mayor would like to make about the ban. The laws speak for themselves.” Of course, she wasn’t making conversation just for the sake of it—instead, she had positioned herself near the stage, listening to people talking about the burning of the memorabilia that was due to take place later that night and trying to figure out when the best time to take the items would be.

Not being in costume or wearing a mask gave him an advantage, but also a distinct disadvantage. There were too many people around for him to get a specific scent on anyone, and even if he could, he would only recognize people he’d already met. Logan stood at the back of the crowd, smoking a cigar, and only half-watched the people milling by. A vendor at a nearby booth swung open a swinging door, knocking someone off balance, and it was by sheer proximity that he was able to steady them. “Watch it,” he snapped at the man. The last thing he wanted to do was catch people like some fucking knight in shining armor all night.

Jason adjusted his mask on his face, his eyes flicking back and forth across the crowd. There was something wrong here, that much was for sure, though he couldn’t tell if it was wrong because there was something actually out of the ordinary, or because he just hated what was going to happen later. Either way, he had to be as sharp as possible, and so, while he had a drink in his hand, he certainly wasn’t drinking. Instead, he just shifted his weight, making his stance a more relaxed-looking position as he scanned the crowd for anything suspicious.

He didn’t like crowds, and he didn’t drink, so why he was standing there doing both was beyond him. Maybe it was because he hated what everything here stood for, maybe he was trying to forget how difficult it was going to the festivals in New York, and maybe, just maybe, it was because he could hear the whispers of someone talking about the burning of all that memorabilia somewhere in the distance. Either way, he found himself with a glass of champagne in his hand, off to the side of the festival with his cane in his other hand and a mask completely covering his eyes, hoping to get through the night without any problems.