A/N: I better explain before people get too confused. This is a story, yes, but it's also a guessing game. The point of it all is to try to figure who's who before everything is revealed in the final chapter. The first chapter is just the e-mail sent to the Shinra employees, as well as an introduction to who might or might not be at the party. This part that you're going to be reading right now is the story, the part previous was just the intro. Hopefully that clears it all up.

Shinra Masquerade

Black and Blue

She wore a blue on blue suit and pant combo. Too dark to be baby blue, too light to be midnight blue, so it was called Turk blue. Kinda a pun, in a sick way, since none of the other Shinra "suits" dared to wear blue or black. The colors of bruises were the colors of the Turks, and no one had the guts to challenge that claim.

The elevator made a cheery "ding", and Elena smoothed her suit down with moist hands. Was she nervous? Yeah, a little. It was stupid the way the small things got to her, how the unimportant things could put a bit of shake into her, and she hated it. "Humanity verses professionalism, the never ending war." Rude had made that comment when he'd walked in on her swearing up and down after her nerves had made her jump before she had looked. Granted that "jump" had been the right thing, she'd done the right thing, but how she'd done it had shaken her up.

Shaking her head, banishing the incident from her mind Elena grimaced as she considered the job before her. It wasn't an assassination she was heading today, no espionage this afternoon… or rather no hard core espionage. She'd got the attachment, and the letter, and had already spent half an hour pouring over it. Picking through the naissance of language, trying to pin down who had sent it by word choice alone.

But whoever had sent it was canny, they'd changed style part of the way in. And while it wasn't enough to be blatantly obvious, the change was there. A half hour of musing had left the novice Turk with the following conclusions: either she was dealing with a literary pro who made the change deliberately, that or it was someone with multiple personality disorder, or the author was intelligent enough to have an impressive vocabulary and unfortunate enough to be going through PMS at the time of writing. Also the ending line "Hope to see you there!" was just jarring. Too abrupt to be planed, it seemed an impulsive tag on, and an affectionate one at that.

Which just null and voided everyone in the Shinra Co. from having sent the missive. "Affection" and "Shinra" were at best an oxymoron, at worst they were some odd anti mater concepts that would explode on contact and wipe out a few levels of the Shinra complex while they were at it.

Was this some insane AVALANGE scheme to kill off newb Turks then? Elane seriously considered it, and had packed the appropriate heat just in case. Tucked under her sleeve was a familiar bracelet of sorts, the small circular holes were filled with what she considered the most balanced of stones. And no, she wasn't thinking color coordinated Wautian fung-shui balance either. Lightning material (mastered) as well pre-emptive, a sense, and a regen, were set in those slots. Aggressive and one defensive, and her gun, just to cover all the bases. She smiled and patted the weapon affectionately.

Nothing seemed out of place, nothing suck out in her mind as she aimlessly strolled down the halls of the pre-designated floor. "The calling card is illumination, my trademark." That had been the final line in the document, the answer to where had been a number and that piece of cryptic script. So it was when she found a door to the manager's café ringed round by Christmas lights that Elena just stopped and gapped.

"You've got to be effin' kidding me."

Cheerily the lights flickered, the electricity was tinted a mako green, and though the lights were supposedly colorless due to the off white glass there was a blush of green around the door. They flickered, not by design, but because of the fact that the wires were so worn that the electric current occasionally snapped out of the wire's breaks with a quiet pop or two. As time went on and she stared, and nothing happened Elena gathered her resolve. If this was an AVALANGE plot to kill her it wasn't going to pan out the way they wanted it to. Oh no, she wasn't going to die here, under some bloody defunct x-mas lights for God's sake! Tseng would never let her hear the end of it! Hell, Reno would have such a field day with it if she dared to go out like this.

"Alright," She muttered under her breath. "I'll just get this over with fast. Kill the deranged son of a bitch quick, then head out fast. Never was here, no one will ask what I did Friday night instead of hang out with the Turks at their bar if I throw the body down the trash shoot… If I'm fast enough," she added hopefully, "maybe I can meet the guys up at the One Eye and only be a little late!"

Silently Elena padded up to the door. One hand gripping at her gun, the other reached out for the knob. It was then the door opened before she could give the knob a little turn. A long yellow nose poked out from the darkness beyond the door. Gaudy yellow… no chocobo yellow! The nose was quickly followed by a face, and what a face it was! Slanted forward, speckled with feathers of yellow, red, and orange, the person approaching her wore a sloping mask. The long nosed person –no, it was a beak, the thing was too angular to be called a nose- was clad in a vibrant sunny hue that instinctively brought smiles to children's faces. Despite herself Elane cracked a grin at the robed figure, who obligingly stepped out of the dark room so she could look at him. He/she stared at her from behind the yellow tinted goggles, the yellow was so intense she felt sorry fro the poor guys eyes, they must hurt like heck.

"This doesn't look like a Turk training lesson, or even a mission."

Mutely the figure cocked its head, and though the face was a featureless blur of feathers she imagined it wore a smile.

"This some VP's idea of a joke? Some kiddie costume party for the suits?" Elena continued, waving the hand that wasn't holding the gun to indicate the costumed person's form.

The person bobbed his/her head, he/she was holding fast to their silence.

"So, you aren't going to talk to me? Do I know you?"

"That's the name of the game Dahling!" The figured in yellow purred, its voice smug and screechy. Immediately Elena thought of Scarlet, a glance at the person's large feet debased her of that notion. The person turned on its heel, the obscuring robes speckled with feathers swished around the fauxly talloned feet –little more than shoes with colored paper put over them, Elena noted- like the hem of a dress. Too big, those feet were way too big to be Scarlet's. "I'm Phoenix, and you are Elena, that's all you need to know. Come in, come in, and don't shoot me please. I'm not that fond of the color red!"

"Then you aren't Scarlet." Elane deduced.

A rueful chuckle escaped that throat. It was deep, commanding. The voice behind that yellow bird mask transformed, thickened, and was clearly masculine… as well as being utterly false.

"Now now, no guessing till the end! But, do come in! Come in come in! You shant be early, but you shant be late, have a sip and a bite then prepare…"

Feather gloved hands beckoned even as that false voice crooned just for her. Elena smiled, incredulous, at the person in the phoenix suit.

"And what am I supposed to prepare for?" She challenged.

"For this and that and other things." Was the Pheonix's mysterious reply