The Masquerade

James watched the woman’s body fall limp to the ground as the man walked up. The commentary from the other people at the masquerade was but white noise as his mind began to race.

So this is how it works, he thought. The God of souls can move his own soul and the souls of others into different bodies.

And it was at that moment that he had a revelation. Witholding his desire to tell everyone to shut up, he lifted a hand.

“No,” he said, quickly answering Boris’s question. “But if they had, she probably would have been an inanimate body, if Kartiel didn’t switch out her soul with his own when he possesed her.”

He turned to face Kartiel, taking a few steps towards the man as he stared up into his face.

“And if I’m right, then you were also the soul in Keith’s body just before he died. And if you have any value for souls and the lives of others, the body-“ he said, pointing down at Keith, “no longer has the soul of a person in it, and is just a body. Which would explain why the body of there-“ he said, pointing to the woman who had been Kartiel a moment earlier. “-Didn’t show up until right after Keith died. So in summation, if my theory is correct, you were in Keith’s body, departed when his body died, repossesed the woman’s body, and then came posing as someone trying to solve the murder alongside us. And it’s possible that the real Keith’s soul is somewhere safe - if he even exists. That, or you switched his soul back in just in time for him to die, which would be cruel, but is still a possibility. And as for how the body got that way, I can only assume you did so beforehand, or you did it to yourself while you were in the body.”

He looked around at the crowd gathered and paused for a moment before looking back up at Kartiel.

“Tell me if I’m wrong, and if we can be done with this puzzle.”

Raiden stared blankly at Kartiel, gears moving in his head.
"Hey, what if this Keith is just a clone of a body? And Kartiel just, got into it, committed suicide and yeeted out so it looked like the body died in front of us, and this was all the puzzle with Rendra over here just acting and everything has gone according to her plan of mysteries?" Raiden paused to take a breath, "And in that way nobody died, because the body was grown without a soul, and it's basically just a prop."

Kartiel and Rendra briefly looked at each other, a grin beginning to spread across the later's face as she looked away after a few seconds. "That's exactly what happened!" Rendra said. Now she was positively grinning from ear-to-ear. Kartiel didn't look half as thrilled as she did, but there was a noticeable little smile on his face. "Your first puzzle was solving that mystery. Since my girlfriend isn't here and Kartiel's got some pretty cool abilities, I asked him to help out."

Kartiel pointed at the body of "Keith". "I used magic to make those injuries," he explained. "Once I had injured myself, I entered this room, faked my own death, and put my soul into the body that Rendra had helped me hide away. You even got my motive for my 'murder' correct, Raiden." He thought for a moment, folding his arms and looking him over. "I'd say that you solve this mystery would be a good reason to forgive you for the infamous shirt incident in Atlantis, but I'm still quite upset over losing some of my prized shirts."

Somehow they manufactured a body and used it as a disposable flesh bag just for their 'mystery.'

James stared out blankly past Kartiel with dead eyes. He wasn't happy that they were right. If this was any indicator of what the next few trials would be like, he wasn't happy. Not that he was in the first place, but he was even less so. He slow-blinked as he looked over at Maahes.

The excitement had abated, a little, but the tension was still consistent, with the promise of more trials to come. Consarn it. There would probably be plenty of eyes on Kartiel at any given time. The best I could hope for would be for Rendra to reclaim the spotlight, and unwittingly cause a diversion on my behalf.

At any rate, I was glad that I had let James and Raiden do most of the detective work, this time. It meant that nobody was very likely to have noticed me when I slipped into the crowd, and weaved my way around the back, until I was only a few paces behind Kartiel.

I stayed quiet, with a hand over my dagger, and kept a careful eye on both Kartiel and Rendra.

Anytime, Rendra. I thought.

"Bold of you to assume only your shirts were taken," Raiden said, removing his arm from Rendra.
"Anyway, I feel a bit better knowing someone didn't actually die here. I'm off to get a celebratory drink. If you would excuse me," he gave a short bow before turning around to the buffet table. He walked over, picked up a wine glass, grabbed a juice box (because whay self respecting masquerade doesn't have juice boxes?) and placed the juice box in the wine glass.

He put the straw in and began drinking with a straight face.

Taber piped up first.

"Sure, nobody died," he said. "But that was still kinda mean? Because we all thought we were going to die horribly and stuff?" He laughed nervously as Eremia let go of him and wheeled around to face Kartiel and Rendra.

"Yes," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Kartiel. "I certainly hope that whatever 'puzzles' you should propose after this one are less...disconcerting."

Spoiler

Hello all! Pardon how late I am- honestly I've been meaning to jump in this for awhile, but boil it down to sheer procrastination- oops. Anyway, I'm going to be throwing my character Damascus into this lovely mix.

For those who don't know, he is a shape-shifting demon who is currently residing in his favorite form- human. Right now, his black hair is done up in a curly mess of a perm of some sort (don't ask). He has bright red eyes, very pale skin, and scruffy sideburns. Here's some pictures of his costume:

Damascus had been having a rough time lately- sleeping inside the tunnels at various playgrounds, under bridges, in shabby hotels when he could afford it. Sleeping strange places really got him used to disorientation every time he woke up, which is why he thought nothing of it when he was jostled awake by some very loud music.

Slowly rousing himself, he pried open his eyes and was greeted by the sight of feet. Or, rather, several pairs of shiny dress shoes. Following his gaze up to the owners of these dress shoes, he saw a group of people holding intricate structures. Instruments! The word came to him about the time that he was able to scramble to his feet.

For some reason, the musicians paid no attention to how close he was, or how he had been practically sleeping at their feet. He wished he could enjoy their music better, but just then he had more pressing matters to attend to. For one, finding out where he was.

"Wonderful playing!" He called to them loudly before taking off to explore what he guessed was a ballroom.

It didn't take long for him to find some people, seeing as they were all gathered around the long refreshment table. His eyes widened slightly as they took in the wide variety of intricate costumes and colors. Glancing down briefly, he hoped that he wasn't underdressed.

Well- it looked like he was in luck. He was wearing some sort of blue suit with gold detailing that he hadn't remembered conjuring. Oh, yes. And terribly itchy ruffles. He hated the ruffles, but there wasn't much he could do about that now.

Pulling at his collar, he walked over to the closest costumed person- a man in a long, white suit jacket. As he approached, he caught wave of the tensions surrounding the group- in this man especially.

Gently, he placed a hand on the person's shoulder to get their attention. If he had been in a better state of mind, he might have exerted more caution before suddenly grabbing one with such high levels of wariness. Alas, he usually wasn't in a good state of mind to begin with.

"Excuse me, my fine fellow. Could you be able to tell me where we are? I don't remember being invited to any sort of... festivity. But, then again, I have been rather absent-minded lately."

Rendra looked just a bit crestfallen at the comment, but didn't seem too bothered by Taber's critique of her puzzle. Vala was inclined to agree that it might have been a step too far - if the relieved sighs that suddenly rang out from where Second and Lorcan were standing were any indicator, or that furious glare that Asteri was giving her from behind his mask - but she also had to admit that it was a pretty good mystery. Rendra had done a great job acting, and the twist with Kartiel had definitely thrown her for a bit of a loop.

Though she had noticed that something was fishy, so at least she could say that she had gotten that part down.

"Oh, don't worry," Rendra suddenly assured Eremia, walking over to where the princess was, "the rest should be pretty tame compared to this. I just needed another god's help and my girlfriend's busy, so I had to put the murder mystery first - I didn't want to spoil things by having Kartiel present all along.

Vala noticed that the other god had wandered over to the drinks table, and was currently in the middle of pouring himself a glass of wine. She knew nothing about Earth wines, but the bottle looked fairly sophisticated and was probably something she should try drinking at some point during the masquerade.

The crowd's attention was beginning to scatter. Rendra began to speak. Kartiel's eyes, among the eyes of all, were affixed upon her.
Yes. It was time.

I drew my dagger, silently, and poised to strike, when I found myself accosted suddenly from behind. In my state of focus the strangers' words barely registered, a few lines after he had already begun speaking.

This was most likely a genuinely disoriented guest, rather than somebody hired to protect Kartiel. If it were the latter, they most likely would have just attacked me while I was preoccupied. Whatever the case, I had to make my decision swiftly, before they drew attention.

They may have already drawn attention. It may already have been too late.

This wasn't worth the risk. I couldn't even recall why I wanted so badly to kill him, for God's sake. It wasn't worth risking life and limb, and everything I'd worked for just to get some cheap vengeance on someone I barely knew. It wasn't worth it, I would be a fool to pursue it.

Except. Except he was right there, his attention diverted, only a single pace away from my drawn dagger, only seconds away from justice. If I tarried any longer he would most assuredly notice me, and if I did not take this opportunity now, Kartiel would not lower his defenses again. He could go for the rest of the night perfectly unhurt, performing the sin of breathing, prolonging the travesty that was his life.

I was certain that whatever I loathed him for so dearly, it must have been a good reason.

I wondered if it would come back with the sensation of plunging a knife into the side of his neck.

It didn't, but it still felt right.

I pulled it out, and stabbed him again in the back, for good measure.

Yes. Yes, that felt very right.


...Good god. Whyever had I worn white? The effect just wasn't worth the risk.

Oh. The someone was still behind me, weren't they.

I ripped my eyes from the blessed sight that was Kartiel bleeding out on the floor and glanced back to survey the stranger.

I was taken aback by startlingly familiar soft, red eyes.

"D...Damascus?" I asked meekly.

Damascus had clearly addressed the wrong person. Not only had he been completely ignored, but the stranger in white, as if using Damascus' address as an oppurtunity, promptly unsheathed a knife and stabbed the man in front of him. Twice.

He took several steps back, his hand automatically flying up to his mouth. Of course, this wasn't the very first time he had been witness to murder, but he was shocked and faintly nauseated nonetheless. He didn't even know where to properly look, whether it be toward the body (it would be respectful for him to witness one's final moments, seeing as it told him a lot about their character), or at the murderer, to take needed action.

Then the man in white turned around, and all of Damascus' immediate concerns fell away. He found himself staring at the face of his honorary brother. Or, rather, what wasn't covered by the mask. Memories that he had visited often came resurfacing once more, and he felt a smile stretch across his face.

Pinching himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, he stepped forward, closing the distance he had created only moments before.

"Borish!" A short burst of a laugh escaped him. "I mean- Boris! Boris Di- Die-... Boris! Jimeny, how are you... it's been so long, I- I've been-" he cut himself off before he could splutter himself into oblivion, settling on another short burst of joyous laughter.

Sweet Lord, I was not prepared for that. I was not prepared to meet the sworn brother I thought I had imagined in bouts of intoxicated fever, and I was especially not prepared for him to witness me committing murder in the second degree.

But despite that whole murder business, I really was delighted to see Damascus. I'd missed him very much, admittedly.

"Damascus. Good God! Fancy meeting you here." I said, laughing off my nerves.

"Oh, I've been doing just dandy. It's marvelous to see you, brother! It really is. How've you been?" I asked him cheerfully.

It wasn't until Damascus went in for a hug that he registered the blood on Boris' jacket. And then the knife. Oh. Ohhhhh. Right- he was the murderer.

"I'm doing... well.." he trailed off and stared pointedly at the body. "It's lovely to see you again, Boris, but- ah- why, exactly, did you stab that man?"

"I'm very sorry you had to see that." I said remorsefully.

I tried to discreetly wipe the dagger on my already stained jacket, and return it to the nice discreet sheath, masking the action with my solemn performance.

"I had to preemptively apprehend this villain before he had the chance to really hurt someone. Trust me, Damascus, I know him all too well. It would only have been a matter of time.

He's in league with Rendra, the host of this party, who brought us all here for the purpose of her own twisted games. Our Kartiel here has already demonstrated his callous nature, and I am sure others would agree that he only meant harm to the lost souls here."

"Oh. Well..." Damscus blinked, trying to take in this information.

Though he didn't really believe in using violence to solve problems, if the man was killed to prevent him from killing others, then it was for an ultimately noble cause. And, though Damascus wouldn't normally believe this shallow of an explanation, he really wanted to be able to trust Boris. So, he did, and decided to take his words as truth.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but it's surprisingly wonderful to see you consider the needs of others, ah, to this extreme. Surprising, but nice. Not that I..." He gave a sigh and a hesitant smile, torn between wanting to encourage selfless behavior while discouraging murder. "I'm proud of you." He refrained from adding an I think to the end of this.