#OutGlutMasquerade The final night update part two continues to shed subtlety at an alarming rate. The Rake and Meritomb have upgraded their dance into a thoroughly messy kiss, complete with Meritomb lifting her clean off the ground to close the height difference. The Raven and Donskoy have quietly agreed that whatever this is does not need to end with the masks, with Donskoy promising future attention once names become available. And, perhaps most suspiciously, Madame Voleur has apparently decided that one dangerous bureaucrat was not enough, leaving lipstick on the Bourreaucrat’s mask and receiving what I can only describe as an extremely bureaucratic hand-kiss in return. He has accused her of wanting to be caught. I am beginning to suspect he is correct. Elsewhere, Room Three has developed the sort of problem that is difficult to describe without sounding superstitious: something there appears to have been quite literally redacted from the space around it, and the Noir has gone looking. I would advise against following, of course. But then, I have never been especially good at discouraging people from boarding strange vessels simply because the waters ahead look dangerous.
