August 2012: Having re-visited this story after a few recent reviews of this dusty old gem I had shelved for so long, I have decided to edit and continue though with a few changes. Readers who have waited, Readers who have just stumbled upon this story I hope you enjoy the new revision!

And I apologise in advance for any possible hold-ups in updates and grammatical errors. I'll do my best!

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men, they are Marvel Property.

Chapter 1 - Make Haste! The Celebration Awaits

A Game of Masquerades

The night was young and colours of dusk had not quite left the canvas of the sky. Already, the lights of the city of New Orleans were bright and numerous. The city was already alive with merriment but it was merely the crescendo before the grand climax.

The famed French Quarter was alive and brightly lit in multicolour lanterns and lamps this evening. The wondrous aromas of spices and fine wine intoxicated the warm air while the wealthy and beautiful creatures of the night arose from their sunlit slumber to dance and drink the night away. Summer was like an aphrodisiac to the Quarter, setting its senses aflame making its people jovial and eager for festivity. And in one of the many grand mansions of this wonderful city, a birthday celebration had commenced. Carriages mounted by groups of fours, sixes and the odd two, were beckoned into the grand gate entrance of the LeBeau Mansion by the smartly dressed servants. Ladies of high society of every shape and form were escorted by men of equal rank and shape, dressed in all their trimmed and threaded finery. And as requested on their hand-held invitations, the invitees came dressed not only in their finest gowns and coats but with their faces hidden behind beautifully crafted masks. No face was recognisable under these sheaths of white, gold, pink, black and shades of blues. Thus, an air of mystery and intrigue engulfed the atmosphere of the mansion as anybody who was anybody was rid of their identities for this one night alone.

Well, almost everybody.

Graydon D'ancanto let out a sigh of irritation as his gaze turned away from the clock on the mantel for the hundredth time. It was not a minute to six o'clock. He fumed silently. The invitation had said six o'clock arrival. The young gentleman's brow furrowed as he turned his topaz-coloured gaze back to the clock not thirty seconds later. Now it was six o'clock. An irritated growl escaped his lips as he rested his arm on the white marble mantelpiece and scowled up at the grand stairwell.

Now, Graydon was not an unreasonable man, on the contrary he was quite the opposite of this grunting, irritable young man on a regular day. But the restraints of proper behaviour that social conduct held over him were straining under the tardiness of his family. He began to pace as the clock struck three minutes past six. He was about to grumble irritably at the clock again only to stop at the sound of rushed multiple pairs of footsteps that caught his ears.

Graydon turned towards the stairway just in time to see four figures hurry noisily down the steps. The first to make the end of the stairs was his younger brother, Olivier D'ancanto. He brushed off an invisible bit of dust from his sleave before he straightened and sent his version of an apologetic grin in his brother's direction. Graydon simply rolled his eyes but his expression turned less sour as his attention was shifted to the three remaining figures. With the fourth figure being his Aunt's maid, Mary, taking up the end of the three, two women dressed in lavish gowns of emerald green and pale-rose-pink. Mary was still adjusting the elder lady of the two's hair as they came down the stairs like a Mardi Grass parade. By the time they ascended the floor, the elder Lady had grown tried of Mary's fussing and snapped irritably.

"Mary! Child, y' have done enough with mah hair! Lord knows, it's seen better days but don't fuss over it! I'm an old woman! I should be fit to look my age. B'sides, ya'll should beh tending t' Miss Spencer here–Not that y' need anything more, dearest. You look wonderful."

Miss Keira Spencer gave a good-humoured chuckle. Her chestnut-brown curls were swept back into a French twist and curled at the back of her head while resting gently at the base of her neck. She brushed some stray curls out of her eyes as she replied in light tease.

"Oh Aunt Marian, you're too sweet. But you should not sell yourself so short!"

Aunt Marian, who descended the last of the stairs shakily in her age and plumpness of form, merely swatted away Mary's hands as response to the maid's helping hand. She would've smiled and continued the banter until there was nothing left to banter about but she caught Graydon's frowning gaze and forgot the matter completely. An utterly unimpressed scowl spread across her face as she made her way across the hall towards her eldest nephew.

"Graydon Owen D'Ancanto, do not give me that look. Ah am perfectly aware of the time and your disapproval of late arrivals. But ah honestly do not comprehend why y' wish not t' excuse us for being a few minutes late. It's quite acceptable to be fashionably late. I am not so old as to know that is a key trend in society these days."

In spite of the scowl across his face, Graydon still managed to blush at his Aunt's chastising He knew, like all who had the fortune to know the infamous Lady Marian Marquis that whatever she condemned 'acceptable' should not be disagreed with. Besides, in her age and state of mind as a born and bread Old Southern Belle, there wasn't another force to be reckoned with in the state of Louisiana. If she wanted to be fashionably late then all that could be done would be to just go with it. Luckily, the subject was quickly forgotten. Graydon would not have to endure 'never hearing the end of it' from his Aunt for the rest of the night. Aunt Marian had raised a bemused brow and turned her head towards the stairway as she exclaimed.

"Where is Anna-Marie? I thought she was behind us?"

The elderly woman turned her gaze about her young charges and when Anna-Marie did not make herself present out of thin air, she turned to her maid and ordered her to fetch her. Mary began to ascend the stairs again as quick as a rabbit, while Graydon heaved another sigh of irritation at yet another hold up.

"Is there anything else to delay us further?"

Though he had muttered it softly under his breath, Aunt Marian caught each word and sent a stern look towards the eldest of her sister's sons. Her mixture of Southern and Cajun tongues grew thick with chastising.

"Really, Graydon, have some form of understanding. You and your brother do not have to put much effort for such occasions as these. Do y' not want your sister to look radiant? How else is she to encourage a beau to dance?"

While Graydon continued to scowl and muttered not so quietly that he would rather his sister didn't catch any beaus, period, his brother Olivier attempted to diffuse that argument before it could start. Clapping his brother by the shoulder, he laughed jovially with a jester's smile spread across his face.

"Don't be so cranky, Gray. This is supposed to be a night of celebration! Why not let yourself relax a little, huh? Some wine, dancing and belle femmes await us!"

While Aunt Marian and Graydon rolled their eyes, Miss Spencer uttered a small chuckle as Ollie dramatically began to dance with an invisible partner around the grand foyer all the while humming loudly to a quick-paced waltz. He stopped only when Aunt Marian insisted that he was making her dizzy. When the commotion stopped, Keira approached Graydon with a teasing smile.

"Oh really Graydon, you should relax. You don't have to be the matron of responsibility all the time you know. No one would think badly of you if you decided to take a break this once."

Though it was hard to tell, what with the leather black mask hiding most of his face, Keira was sure that he was actually blushing a little. He retorted quickly, his tone straining to remain composed as he willed himself to calm.

"Cousin Keira, someone has to take responsibility for ya'll. What with mah parents back in Mississippi and Ollie preying upon nearly every young lady between fifteen an' twenty, who else is gonna look out for you and mah sister?"

Keira actually blushed a little at his words but brushed off the surge of appreciation she felt with a small laugh. Though it wasn't as noticeable now, what with the white leather mask that hid half her face and framed her eyes, her eyes sparkled a little at the compliment.

"As much as I appreciate your concern Mister D'Ancanto. I know perfectly well that if you had your way, I have no doubt that you would beat every gentleman that set eyes on you baby sister away with a stick-"

Keira barely managed to finish her sentence as Ollie let out a high whistle of appreciation and literally pranced towards the stairway. He ignored Aunt Marian's scolding for the inappropriate amount of prancing like a deer. He grinned from ear to ear and watched the figure at the top of the stairs.

"Well would ya'll look at that! Look who cleans up pretty damn well for a little Rogue!"

Aunt Marian gave him a look most murderous. She highly disapproved of the misuse that oddity of a nickname instead of her niece's real name.

"Really Ollie, do not encourage the use of that uncivilized nickname. Address Anna-Marie by her name. I'll have none of this Rogue business you've grown so attached to."

While Ollie shrugged at his Aunt's scolding, his sister he had endeared as the little Rogue descended the stairwell at a careful quick pace. She was still fixing her mask into place as she spoke.

"Ah'm sorry Ah'm so late Aunt Marian. Ororo was having some difficulty with mah mask. Mah hair kept getting caught in the ribbons."

Clad in a midnight-blue gown, the fair-skinned Anna-Marie D'Ancanto gave a mild, apologetic smile towards her aunt. At her family's bombardment of staring, she pulled self-consciously at the edge of one of her long opera gloves. Did she look as ridiculous as she felt?

"Is there something on mah face?"

While Ollie and Keira chuckled and the spell of staring seemed to break, Aunt Marian simply smiled proudly and insisted she looked as radiant as she should. Relieved, Rogue reached the last step of the stairs only for Ollie dramatically bowed and offered her his arm, causing her to chuckle amusedly and their Aunt to scowl.

"Really Ollie, can you not be serious for one moment? Lordy, sometimes ah wish y' and your brother would exchange traits. Would give meh some much needed peace of mind!"

While Graydon blanched at his aunt's words, the youngest of the siblings and Miss Spencer tried to smother their amused snorts and chuckles as Aunt Marian began to lead their troop out of the grand town house.On the way out, she glanced at the grandfather clock near the door and exclaimed.

"Graydon, y' should keep better watch of the time! We shall not be fashionably late at all now!"

Hope you all agree with the changes! REVIEW!

-Gams