Gravon looked through the eyelets of the mask, his gaze pushing over the crowd with a mix of idle curiosity and barely harnessed restraint. His assignation for the night was to call on several of his unique skills, the curriculum vitae of the Mandrake house, but also some of his unique talents. Hidden under the cloak was one of his tools, a heavy buffalo leather flogger with tines that reached to the just above the floor. The straps were thick, several of core reaching two inches in width. It provided more than just the contact, but the sound of torment when it struck flesh. The handle was eighteen inches, leather bound in midnight blue to break the monotony of the black. it felt good to have this token, this icon of his status and his house with him.<br/><br/>For a moment a movement caught his eye, and then it was lost. The grace, the simple glimpse of action made Gravon found. It was the movement of a servant, and one of at least adept level. Was his want so great that it was playing tricks on him. He had served at Mandrake since he was a boy, he knew how to master his emotions, so the slight annoyance never made it to his face. Instead he made it into a game, a memory game that he had often used in the be times when he was not called upon.<br/><br/>He began to look to the costumes and colours of the many different people around the room. The guess of a particular person's desires by the way they wore their clothes. The difference between skin showing, a tease, skin displayed, seeking attention, skin reserved , potential. It was always the reserved one who tended to appear in secrecy upon night's doorstep and the Night court's services. He finished his joie and procured another glass, staying close to his patron for the evening.<br/><br/>She made small talk with those who asked of him, never once alluding to his purpose for the evening. He began to undress his patron, it was his calling, his position in the world to extract the extent of pleasure from another person by the use of torment, pain, and a physicality that some would find disturbing. It was the blessing of the Mandrake, the gift that Gravon's house offered to the night court and those who found solace and release in suffering. In some ways, he knew nothing else.<br/><br/>For a moment he moved away from his patron, moving about the others guests in a slow and stately gait. He was a blight amongst a sea of colour. His dark costume and form often time causing other to recoil and clear his way. Even in their fear he could taste the excitement, and that only fueled his own growing needs.<br/>