libraryassistants: (Default)
Unfinished Library Mod & NPC Account ([personal profile] libraryassistants) wrote in [community profile] unfinishedlibrary2026-01-23 06:56 pm

perhaps you have learned it without a book - MOONLIT RIVALS LOG 1

Who: Readers and Actors galore!
What: The Story begins- and so do preparations for the Masquerade!
When: The three days prior to the Masquerade [ooc timeline: 1/23-2/5]
Where: The city of Montica
Content warnings: Please include any warnings in headers!

First Quarter Moon

Now that most of the Editors know what to expect, the draw into the Story is likely more obvious this time. There’s a subtle urge that encourages their feet to turn towards the Stacks; a slight shimmer in the air that thickens the closer they get to the book laying open on an innocuous library cart.

Those who resist the Story’s pull will be drawn in eventually. Whether the compulsion is successful, or whether the Librarian passes by to sweep them in - all Editors will enter, and all will experience the Story’s start together.

(Editors who have gained the skill Ex Media Res will be able to resist the Story’s pull and hang out in the Library. Drop us a note if they’re using this skill!)

Our Beginning

The Story begins as night makes its transition to morning. Montica is a city that never sleeps, and some Editors may find themselves taken aback at how the absence of sunlight has done nothing to deter the nightlife.

In particular, at the hour our Readers arrive, there is a clean-up going on at the centre of town. People are grumbling as they sweep debris from the streets, and those who are familiar with supernaturally-powered fights will recognise this scene for exactly what it is: the aftermath of some powerful entities having had at it. Hang around too long and you may find yourself with a broom or hammer thrust into your hands, the expectation that you’ll help having been made clear.

Those who leave the clean-up will find themselves welcome in the city’s inn, where visitors hover by the windows, chattering excitedly about the fight that had just broken up. Some people think they’re lucky to have seen it - others think they’ll be luckier if they go the next few days without seeing another one.

The inn is warm, full of gossip, and by some marvel still has private rooms available to rent. Readers will find themselves with enough coin in their pocket to afford quite a bit, this time around - but don’t go spending it all at once. Those who are astute will hear the talk of a masquerade going around, and if you want to attend, you’re going to have to dress appropriately.

Welcome to Montica

Montica itself is a city built from stone, with the buildings packed closely together along cobblestone streets. Flowering vines creep along trellises, their gentle fragrance perfuming the air. The sky is clear and smog-free, the water flows cleanly, and a sense of magic drifts comfortably in the breeze.

The city is almost evenly bisected by loyalties, a hard divide running clearly through the centre of the town. Only a small ring in the centre is considered to be neutral territory - though that’s becoming more and more disputed with each passing moon.

To the north, buildings seem to have a fondness for silver. It seems they’ll take any excuse to work the precious metal into everyday items, from cutlery to window fastenings; and some particularly zealous citizens proudly don silver jewellery and pins in their day-to-day wear. In this section of town you will find the dwellings of the old vampire clans, littered with antiquities and casual opulence.

To the south, the people are fond of spices. Garlic flowers pepper garden beds and the dried bulbs hang from doorframes, and there’s hardly a meal cooked without it. Some industrious workers are busy building small moats of flowing water through this half of the city – you’d better mind your step, lest you get in their way. Located amongst these homes are the dens of the werewolf packs, warmly furnished and brimming with life.

No matter where you are in town, whether you’re surrounded by silver or dodging moat diggers, whether it’s day or night or nebulous twilight, there’s one topic that’s on everyone’s lips: the Umbra Masquerade.

It’s a once in a human lifetime event, and the city is abuzz. Some of the elderly may have been once before, in their youth - but likely at an age where they were too young to remember. There are stories about these masquerades, of the favours that can be won and the deals that can be made. More than one wealthy family attributes their successes to parties of the past, and while the werewolves shouldn’t be there – who’s going to stop them?.

The Market

At the centre of the city are Montica’s most dreary buildings. Markets are held here during the day, bright banners and exuberant stallholders calling out their wares. People of all kinds shop here, and it’s the best place to find quality goods. Some patrons give each-other hearty side-eyes, some sneer and mutter insults under their breath - but by and large, this a neutral zone, and the regular citizens treat it as such.

Behind the fuss of the market, astute observers will note the broken and boarded-up windows hidden by the bold stalls. Some buildings are outright abandoned, damaged beyond repair. It becomes even more obvious as night falls and the number of stalls thins, the night vendors setting up with wary looks in their eyes.

Right now the market is bustling with vendors sending goods up to the Umbra Clan's mansion. There is a constant stream of traders passing back and forth, hurrying to get their contributions in place before the ball. Regular goods are still for sale, but the busiest stalls are those selling - of all things - masks with varying levels of decoration. They’ve cleverly set up outside of stores selling clothing; beautiful dresses and tailored suits visible through the cracked and dusty windows. Editors will find they have enough local currency to afford something modest. If their tastes skew toward the more extravagant then, well – they better get to work.

The Umbra Mansion

The sprawling building stands tall, overlooking the city of Montica. Vines budding with fragrant flowers grow up the sides of the building, curling around windowsills and balconies in a curated fashion. A large hedge maze sits at the rear of the mansion, behind the grand ballroom; and the gardeners are in top form today, brandishing tools at anyone who looks like they're about to enter it. It's one of many things being tidied up and decorated for the ball, so you'd better not get in their way.

The mansion's front doors open to a foyer that is connected to an upstairs level by two grand staircases. A gilded chandelier hangs down between them, casting rainbows across the wooden floors as the sunlight strikes its crystal ornaments.

Those wide, curved staircases lead to a mezzanine that overlooks the ballroom below. Doors to private rooms branch off from here; all of them locked.

During the daylight hours, the mansion sports large windows covered by thick curtains that are drawn firmly shut. Those who try to peer through them will find an additional layer of security in the form of tightly-fastened metal blinds that block any slivers of sunlight from eking through.

On all three days the mansion is crawling with people setting up for the masquerade. Over there, someone’s hanging strings of lights. Over here, a florist is carefully arranging flowers. The kitchen is busy, human cooks overseeing the production of hundreds of canapes – and on the third day, over in the ballroom, are a band of musicians getting prepared for the night.

Security is lax everywhere except the underground floors, where the clan sleeps. The doors that lead to the underground complex are barred from the inside, and human guards keep watch outside of them to redirect any wanderers.

[The info/plotting post can be found here!]
bashasasdemon: (Kai [Talking])

Kai | Actor (Vampire)

[personal profile] bashasasdemon 2026-01-24 12:23 am (UTC)(link)
watchful eye

The city is abuzz with activity, and that just means Kai is all the more watchful of that small center ring in which he lives. Or, well, where he sometimes lives- he has a habit of wandering out of the city for long periods of time and then comes back like he's never been gone. But recently, he's been consistently around. His adopted 'packmate' is likely the reason for that.

Whatever his living status is, when he is in town, this is the area he calls home, despite the sharp fangs hidden behind his lips. And the residents know it, too; those who live there don't regard him with the same wary suspicion as his kin are likely to get, while said kin give him the cold shoulder more often than not. He's used to it; he made his choices, and he has no desire to take them back.

He's sitting on a newly repaired bench in the center of the district, watching with a frown as more and more people mill by. "Lots of people coming in for the Masquerade, it seems," he'll comment to anyone he recognizes, but his eyes stay on the newcomers, keeping an eye out for any trouble.

Said newcomers, however, might get the man coming up to them, looking a mix between wary and... well, not helpful exactly, but not hostile. "You lost?" Given that he had darker skin to begin with, it's harder to tell he's a vampire than most. Which... may or may not be helpful, since it's still not immediately clear how he'll respond to people being lost.

preparations

Kai really, really doesn't want to go to the party.

Unfortunately, Kai kind of has to go to the party.

It's not an actual written down obligation. But Kai is old enough and smart enough to know what the hidden politics of things are, and he knows just how badly his already thin relationship with most of the vampires in the city would fare if he skipped their Event of the Century. It's a relationship he doesn't necessarily want to keep up, but one he needs to, for the safety of others more than anything.

So he is, reluctantly, looking at masks at one of the many, many stalls that has popped up across the city. The one he's holding is more lace than mask, as he turns it over in his hands. "Well, it fits the goal, at least," he says dryly. And far more comfortable than putting something made of plaster over his face.

wildcard

[Hit me up, Kai is around, being a grumpy protector like he is!]
ohaiyo_isekai: (:moonlit rivals)

watchful eye

[personal profile] ohaiyo_isekai 2026-01-24 12:44 am (UTC)(link)
A dazed, platinum blond man with rose-tinted glasses and a red mantle over his fine clothing stumbles forward, seemingly unused to the length of his limbs.

"I confess I might be, a little," he allows, running his tongue along his teeth, looking at the buildings with a sense of deja vu.

...Fangs. Ah.

"In fair Verona, where we lay our scene," he mutters to himself. "Of course. Fair Montica, rather."

He looks up. "Apologies. I am new to the city and would like to know a good place to stay the... day, I suppose. My habits tend to the nocturnal."
aetherweaver: (tilted up)

Nero (Nara'a) | Actor: Vampire Scion

[personal profile] aetherweaver 2026-01-24 12:46 am (UTC)(link)
[[ooc; Nero (Nara'a) looks like this, minus the ears.]]

The Umbra Mansion

The young master is busy, because of course Nero is. It's expected of him to be busy, at this point. He's taken over a lot of the directing from his sire, because such petty things need not be under his direction. Yes, he's young at the tender age of 50, but he's been raised for this.

"Yes, that goes over there - no, a little to the right." He stands straight at attention and watches the servants place things for the masquerade. This has to be right. It must go correctly, for the sake of the clan. Why would they open their doors for anything less than perfection?

He can be found all over the manor at all hours excepting the very middle of the day. It's clear he is not sleeping properly, because all of this work has to get done. He's not going to let this be anything less than precisely as organized. He must show his worth to his sire.


The Market

But eventually someone shoves Nero (politely) out of the decorating and preparations. He dons a black cloak with a hood to browse the markets. Partly it's to make sure people are doing their jobs, but partly... well, as anxious as he is, he really needs to get some fresh air. Crypts are all well and good, but even vampires need to be outside sometimes.

He's pale, and there's no mistaking the fangs on him... but he's attempting to not show his regal bearing. For all most people know, he's just a random vampire. ... Or so he hopes, in any case.


Wildcard

[[ooc; Got another idea? Grab me on the Discord or on my plotting comment here!]]
bashasasdemon: (Kai [Talking])

[personal profile] bashasasdemon 2026-01-24 12:51 am (UTC)(link)
He looks like- well. Like he's already been to a party, or something like it. Kai watches him carefully, like he's not sure the man isn't going to stumble over himself and collapse or throw a punch.

(In Kai's defense, it does rather sound like Hikaru's muttering nonsense.)

After a moment, he jerks his head in the direction of one of the alleys. "There's an inn that way, they've got rooms with no windows or good coverage. Or, if you're on invite for the Masquerade, there may be room at the Manor." But surely he would already know that, if he was actually invited.
borntolove: (Really how interesting)

John Smith

[personal profile] borntolove 2026-01-24 12:53 am (UTC)(link)
The Market

Perhaps you make your way into one of the little shops. This shop in particular is clock shop. John can be seen being spiffy with his clothes behind the counter focused on some clogs. However, he does hear the jingle of the bell.

"Can I help you?"

The Umbra Mansion

John only went because its something to do. He keeps to himself most of the time, outside of the music is playing he does seem to get the nerve to ask; "Care to dance?"

Wildcard
Have another idea? Let's do it!
angel_of_baal: (Awoo 2)

Sanguinius/Sigwulf | ACTOR OTA

[personal profile] angel_of_baal 2026-01-24 01:17 am (UTC)(link)
Beginning

Sigwulf had been in the observatory during the drama, his gaze set more to the heavens and the clashes in the sky rather than those below. Someone would have to speak to the town leaders about light pollution. But it is daylight now, and time for him to go home, and rest up before classes and hopefully dodge yet another of his father's lectures or disappointed sighs.

It's astronomy, dad, it's not a phase!

He's carrying a partly disassembled orrery with him, to hopefully do some painting on, which he struggles to figure out a place to put down, so he could help.

Did he have skill with a hammer? Not particularly, but he was tall and could carry heavy weights. Listen, toting vellum books makes one strong!

Market

He's browsing for books, of course. While he specializes in astronomy, any of the quadrivium is his interest, so you might find him flipping through titles, looking for books on music or mathematics--really, to him, the same thing.

Or there's a moment, because he knows this is too close to Umbra territory for him to be, that he whirls, hand going to his belt. "Hey!" Has someone...picked his pocket? It seems they have and he is off in hot pursuit. Well, not so hot that he changes form, but it's tempting.

wildcard
((you know how this works, he's around town during daylight hours, or at night up in the observatory tower, or taking a quick break to grab a snack. ))

Edited 2026-01-24 14:08 (UTC)
aetherweaver: (smirk)

Watchful Eye

[personal profile] aetherweaver 2026-01-24 01:23 am (UTC)(link)
"So there are." Who could it be? Not Nero, that's for certain. He grins from under his dark cloak as he sits next to his friend, careful to not let it billow out and reveal some of his finery.

"More than I expected, but my sire has been busy. ... A bit too busy, in my opinion. He needs to rest." Not like Nero does, no. He's totally fine! He's just... going to sleep for a while afterwards.
curzed: (Default)

curze - reader (nominal vampire)

[personal profile] curzed 2026-01-24 01:32 am (UTC)(link)
Getting Bearings - Spoopy Sewercrypts

This time, the Story's chosen to leave him, on first glance, completely unchanged. Konrad Curze is still a giant at ten feet tall, ice-pale and black haired, dressed much the same as he usually is in the library with ragged dark pants and cloak, the only real difference the addition of an equally ragged and equally dark shirt.

He'd retreated immediately upon realizing dawn is approaching, the pallor of the sky telling him this story was going to be obnoxiously prone to sunlight. Curze doesn't have to be a vampire to loathe the light. With a glance telling him most inhabitants here are of normal mortal size, being out in the daylight would draw far too much attention, he'll wait.

And so he does, far beneath street level, in the network of catacombs, crypts and sewers, where the garish light of day can't reach him.

The lack of light there save for the rare scattered lamp isn't a problem for his senses. And it's quiet. Surely no-one else will be down there while he uses the peace and silence to attempt to sort through the impressions he's immediately gotten of this place, like his visions but not - simply because it wasn't blinding agony.

He moves disturbingly silently for something so large.

After Sunset, Hunting Allies - Day 1-3

Once it's actually dark, though very aware that a good half the city is only active at night, Curze sets out to catch any sign of anyone he recognizes. Scent, sight, sound - there would be other Readers, though they may be disguised. Actors are going to be much harder.

He's spent over sixteen decades being careful about not being spotted, and even in this place, full of the supernatural, he's incredibly elusive, avoiding notice with patient deliberation while working on finding those he knows. His brothers are here, somewhere. His one friend. The handful of people he might generously call acquaintances.

Ever get the feeling you're being watched?
noonlight: (tief)

Illumination | Reader

[personal profile] noonlight 2026-01-24 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
Arrival.
First things first - as repulsive as it is, Illumination needs to pass for human. They've arrived with some manner of charm that handles the physical appearance, so that's one problem contained. Scent and touch are another problem, and can be managed on a case by case basis.

A scout from the Get knows how to hide in a city. To burrow in, stay fed, stay safe, and protect themselves from those who don't follow The Star and its ways.

Too risky to stay at the inn; better to help out with the clean up and use that time to look for abandoned buildings unlikely to be in imminent collapse. If they can find something not too shabby, the worst can be strengthened and repaired, the rest charmed into a passable store front with a stronghold dug down into the basement. If they're here for a week, the city gets a repaired building; if they're here for longer, well...

The (Night) Market
There's no stall, but a shimmering pale fabric is draped over the doorway of one of the (formerly) empty storefronts. After a couple days of 'business', a charmed mask joins the fabric. Inside, Illumination can be found offering advice, simple charms, and enhancements for the masks and clothing bought through the more traditional market.

There is no clear sign as to what, exactly, Illumination does, but in their experience that tends to draw in the sort of people that are willing to take a risk on a stranger's business and discretion. (There's always a risk that someone asks for a service that they don't provide, but sending clientele on to others is a good way to build up a network.)

If and when they recognize someone else from the Library, they keep on a polite face, but ask gently: "Didn't we meet at the Library Book Club? Last week was 'Twilight' or Shakespeare, I think?"

Wildcard
Come at me, bro. Starter as you please, or hmu on plurk or discord to plan.
Edited 2026-01-24 01:35 (UTC)
goodtobebad: (crowley-s2-776)

Crowley | actor (human, neutral)

[personal profile] goodtobebad 2026-01-24 01:45 am (UTC)(link)
There's a man lurking about town - drives an old black saloon car, filled with gardening implements. His outfit is all black - maybe for fashion, maybe to hide the dirt - and he wears sunglasses even at night, though he's neither a vampire or a werewolf.

He is Tony Crowley - formerly the head gardener at the Umbra Mansion, now a lowly local landscaping guru. At least, by day that's what he is. He drives around in his saloon car, weeding, mowing, pruning for the locals. Occasionally picking up work for the municipal government, trimming hedges in the public parks.

At night, he helps people get out of town, people who've gotten in too deep with either the vampire or werewolf clans.

And when he's not doing that, he's drowning his sorrows in a local pub.

Find him in any of these places, but probably not the Umbra Mansion. He's kind of persona non grata around there.
ohaiyo_isekai: (:shock)

[personal profile] ohaiyo_isekai 2026-01-24 01:48 am (UTC)(link)
“Ah.”

The sinking feeling in Hikaru’s heart is now plummeting. He’s seen this one before. He played Tybalt, for Mutan’s sake.

“I suspect I shall have to secure an invitation, pay my respects to the… prince, or someone like one, of my kind in fair Montica.”

To find out who the fucking furry Montagues are, now that he’s found his fucking fangéd Capulets.

“I appreciate your obvious concern, but allow me to assure you it was but a momentary disorientation as I entered this stage. Thank you, kind ser, for grounding me. You may call me -“

This is a European town, possibly Iberian (not Yberian) or Italian (not Lupernican.) The name Hikaru Aozora would raise questions.

But Hikaru has invented characters on the fly before.

“…Lucas Azuresky, a scholar. Hail and well met by sunrise.”

He bows.
keytarheroine: (the luna purpure)

Claire Ryland > The Luna Purpure, Claire Ryefield - Actor, and Actor

[personal profile] keytarheroine 2026-01-24 02:19 am (UTC)(link)
The Market
[Set up near some public benches is a horse-drawn wagon that, curiously, bears a name illuminated on it in gold: John Haycart. Pinned to it is a prop, a paper woman-in-the moon, in red limned with silver; and before it are a pair of jugglers, perhaps with too-long canines in their grins. One has hair of an azure tincture, in two pigtails; the other long and straight to her shoulders, emblazoned in purpure.

They are juggling, and laughing, and busking, these sisters of the stage, and they speak to each other with voices that sing soprano and contralto respectively, projected effortlessly across an improvised stage.

The blue-haired one speaks:]
What! Ho! Why feign surprise, when my cruel parents spent their lives entire teaching me meekness?

[The purple one scoffs:] Thy parents would make thee feel you were without worth, push you past breaking, then scold you for what you break, then, my dear Nova?

I was always the kind who would, rabbitlike, flee in my terror, Claire. [the Luna Azure named Nova responded] Well mannered till I'm not so, a most kindly child...

[They are advertising, it seems, for...]

The Roseland Theatre, Near The Market
[Come nightfall, this cozy place, around the central stage, puts on a play by the Red Moon Troupe called Alike In Dignity, Or, The Comedy of the Duelists. It is the tale of two vampiresses, skilled with rapier and misericorde, who are clearly in love - but at the outset, they can only express their love through dueling.

(And while the battles are daring and some others get hurt, that it is named a comedy is an assurance to the audience that in the end, these two will learn healthier means of expressing their love, and ultimately wed each other.)

A woman with long green hair in a ponytail to her hips, in a military jacket, named Hannah River is perfect as the heroine Rachel Pohl, as she duels the leader of the troupe Sara Iscandar's role of Teresa Cantor, with her short-cropped fiery red hair supplemented by a clip-on pair of truly ridiculous, drill-like princess curls to fit her more sheltered and spoiled nature.

Claire, from her seat in the audience as a plant, munches a sausage on a roll and watches on with delight as Hannah, the Luna Verdant, delivers a soliliquy she wrote:]


I see it very well, thy meteoric wake in that azure sky,
The torch thou bearest, burning behind thy gaze;
Has it truly been so long since we crossed paths and blades,
A full lifetime ago? Have all our ill thought wishes soured,
Curdled like milk in sunlight? Have our callouses gone soft,
Out of disuse? I suppose I have been seldom lover or fighter,
But still I have a misericorde prepared to pierce my heart,
Should thou ever think to claim it, drive it deep, and drink of me!

[Claire joins the others in applause, clearly delighted.]

The Laurelthirst Public House
[The wolves may have their Den on Turnip Street; the vampires their Starlight Lounge down Hextos Avenue; the wealthy MacMenanins At The Marches outside of town proper. But the truly interesting gossip and parties happen at the Laurelthirst, in the center of the city, where the Blood Moon troupe go to celebrate and feast after a grueling five fucking acts of physically demanding slapstick comedy and emotionally demanding soliliquies.

So in come a whole gaggle of werewolf women with intensely tinted hair - the Luna's Guiles, Purpure, Azure, and Vert - to the table they customarily go to, nor does this cause alarm in any of the vampires... save for a few who like to mesmerize and sup on innocent maids, who on seeing these terrors quickly remember appointments elsewhere in the city, marked well by the sneering gaze of the Luna Guiles, Sara Iscandar. With those leeches out of the way, they sit, and hail the barmaid, and Claire, head cocked flirtatiously, presses a purse into her hand:]


There, all debts are paid and more for thy kindest service, thy most lovely thing; keep the ale flowing and we players well supplied in meat, bread, pickles and potage, and we will tip thee handsomely, and if thou likest also sing to thee beautifully.

[Anywhere else, that would be shocking. But, Harold, it's the Laurelthirst, and here such queer behavior is not remarked on.]
Edited 2026-01-24 02:39 (UTC)
terraboo: (Sadge)

Laina Guthart - Actor (Vampire)

[personal profile] terraboo 2026-01-24 02:23 am (UTC)(link)
The Market, Early Evening

Armin The Fool has a fastidious policy of waking up while there's still something resembling light out - after the sun has set, but before the day has truly slept. It's a great time to slip out, well before she has to get to her work being at the very bottom of the social pecking order, beneath the notice of all and thus able to poke at basically anyone, nyohohoho.

Right now, though? Montica has less need for her jibes, so she's got time to vibe.

This does not mean she is not wearing her (look tentative) full work uniform, and even has a couple balls she juggles off and on while she looks around from stall to stall, seemingly at random - and also watching the kind of people who properly invest in their wear for the ball.

Perhaps she runs into you? Or maybe she's juggling some more normal food, taking bites as a pork bun flies through the air. It's a cool party trick, and those are like, a tenth of her job, okay?

Around The Mansion

Armin does have a very, very specific order during preparation for the ball. Stay out of anyone building or preparing anything's way. Also, no approaching the kitchen, lest she think to recreate the Fizz Incident.

Also also, save her best japes for the actual party. Strictly B-tier material right now. The boring stuff, mostly.

This does leave her wandering around at random, sometimes doing a few tumbles, a light juggle, or occasionally being told to hold something up for a moment while it's set into place.

And, still experiencing boredom, if she were honest. Sometimes she's even pulled a book out, writing notes with a pen.

Oh, how hard it is to be a fool!
noonlight: (crystal)

Urbex, baby.

[personal profile] noonlight 2026-01-24 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
After having settled on a suitable (run-down) storefront with a roughed in basement, Illumination moves in and begins to ward the boundaries of the building. Above ground is risky, but necessary, but below? Out through the sewers? That's comfortable. Homey, even. (A bit of a strong pong to it, but nothing that they can't deal with later.)

In the heavy dark of the sewers, Illumination doesn't need any light to see by; although, a stranger might spot faint colours and light shifting over any visible skin.
keytarheroine: (now what's my line? ah yes -)

[personal profile] keytarheroine 2026-01-24 02:38 am (UTC)(link)
There are two other jugglers - well known as werewolves, and career spinsters and - shame - rude mechanicals at that, advertising for a show at the Roseland Theatre out of the back of a wagon with the legend "John Haycart" painted on it, along with their sigil of a Blood Moon.

..."Ah, but as a blank page you were perfect, dearest Nova!" says the Luna Purpure, Claire Ryefield.

"Of such abuse, most undeserving!" the Luna Azure, Nova Stellare, singsongs back.

"Then I need preserve thee, and serve the blind one with her blade and scales, now, if but once..." Claire responds.

They see Armin passing, smile brightly at her - they've swapped jokes before - and change up their patter.

"But, soft, what shade through yonder alleys strolls?" Nova asks.

"Is it our sweet and scathing friend among the midnight crewe?" Claire says, corpsing, her peals of laughter merry. "Good morrow, Armin!"
curzed: (pic#18124557)

[personal profile] curzed 2026-01-24 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
The smell is just.. more scents to sift through, a constant endless source of information about things like the diets and general health of countless people living above of at least three different species.

Make that four.

Coming across Illumination's trail marks them instantly as something not like the beings above, and Curze detours immediately from whatever other path he'd been following to pursue this one instead. Darkness is no hindrance to him either, and there's no effort to seek out greater lighting to see what's ahead. In turn, with the right kind of vision, he's not terribly difficult to spot either - especially since he's not hiding.

"My. Aren't you far from home?" That sort of colorplay reminded him of certain deep-sea creatures, not surface-dwelling thigns.
terraboo: (Default)

[personal profile] terraboo 2026-01-24 02:50 am (UTC)(link)
"A fine night to see you, indeed!", Armin responds, her attitude as calm as always, as she paces toward them with wide, high-legged steps that draw highlight to her legs to no slight extent. A Fool and her modesty are not that soon parted, but...

She slows as she approach. "Good morrow, indeed." She does slip to a shadow, just to maximize her comfort while there's still sunlight.

"Your troupe, I presume, is soon ready for a show?"

Always promote the fellow artist. Important rule for any Fool worth their salt. And Armin was worth no shortage of that.
noonlight: (Default)

[personal profile] noonlight 2026-01-24 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
As Illumination turns to face the newcomer, the patterns on their skin that would be invisible under normal light flicker and shift in time with their speech. "Oh, you know, I'm the sort that likes to get around."

Behind them, there's a rough doorway that looks as if it once was well-maintained. They've started to invest it with charms for concealment and wards to keep out unwanted guests. Rats? Wandering primarchs? Either way, it's a work in progress.
ohaiyo_isekai: (:moonlit rivals)

The Market

[personal profile] ohaiyo_isekai 2026-01-24 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
Hikaru is window-shopping for masks when he spies a familiar face.

Well dressed, but subtly so. No cat ears, but Hikaru's not four foot nothing with dragonfly wings, either. Nara'a? Or his Role?

"Hail and well met," he says, brightly. "You seem familiar - did we meet as editors in the great library, or have I mistaken you for someone else?"

The vampire saying this has smoked lens on his glasses, an earring with a curious white jewel hanging from it, a red mantle with a gold clasp, and a walking-stick. He has platinum blond hair and almond-shaped, dark eyes.
Edited 2026-01-24 02:55 (UTC)
steelfeathered: (pic#17432153)

Jadis (Hisako) | Human Mystic

[personal profile] steelfeathered 2026-01-24 03:09 am (UTC)(link)
Mystic Matters (Guildulf household members, any werewolves who might be permitted there)

Jadis Akabane, the premier Mystic of Montica, spends most of her time in a large converted stillroom in the basement of the Guildulf den. Barred windows high in the wall at ground level admit plenty of light during the day, oil lamps and gleaming crystal orbs provide at night. The walls are lined with deep shelves loaded with leatherbound books, odd implements, and chests of drawers. Surrounded by a reverse grassland of hanging herb bundles and charms made from wire and feathers, a badly-taxidermied crocodile is suspended from the ceiling, glass eyes bulging. The stone floor is heavily marked with painted symbols and sigils which are covered in places by rugs. Patchwork pelts hang on hooks besides a great chalkboard covered in a conspiracy board's level attempt to make sense of... something. The obligatory cauldron is in the hearth, though Jadis prefers standing braziers, surrounded by enough shelves to give the alchemical specialty apparati almost their own closed space - especially the few, required silver implements, tucked away in a magically insulated compartment.

It's a very well-supplied setup for a practitioner of the mystic arts, all told, and the one place in the world where Jadis feels most in control of her senses and certain of the present.

One corner has a curtained alcove where she's got a bed, but it seems she didn't get there in time tonight? Today? Spread across a workstation is a pelt made of many scraps, stitched together with an eye to keeping the grain of the fur aligned but not to color matching. Seated at the station, half lying across the seal-skin patchwork she'd been adding to, Jadis is fast asleep in the middle of the day.

out and about (more open)
Openly, Jadis is known as a healer and a provider of medicinal aids and potions, including ones that prevent becoming a werewolf. Her other skills are more rumors - flying through the night sky, controlling lightning, transforming into a huge cat, and of course telling the future. Ordinary townsfolk have mixed feelings about her. Suspicion, for her close involvement with the current head werewolf faction, which causes her to be gently rebuffed when she ventures too far north. A limited amount of welcome, because of how often she forgets (or 'forgets') to ask payment for her services. Pity and a bit of contempt, because by this point no one thinks her condition is faked; she struggles with her surroundings and keeps getting lost, genuinely not seeming to notice if she's surrounded by silver ornamentation.

She's not in for much hatred or fear, at least. Whatever rumors exist about her benign stated intentions concealing any more dangerous powers, the fact is she's frowning in confusion much of the time, running her fingers over her bracelet continually, and often appears to be staring at things no one else can see. She does better with a guide, but gets where she has to go on her own... usually... at some point. Would-be thieves come away feeling she had nothing of value on her, which is a much quieter and more difficult form of defensive spellwork than one that draws more attention.

Things have started by now, she knows. The outsiders have appeared. Things will change. She's got to find some of them. And try to get some medicine to her drop point in the neutral zone, for that matter, she's hanging on to this being a day for that.

[Jadis does not look exactly like a human Hisako, but could easily be a half-sibling or cousin. Paler, longer-faced, fully dressed in white undershirt and a long green dress whose hem is irreparably stained, she has feathers braided into her hair, feather-shaped charms on a bracelet, and a ceramic flute around her neck which is almost the same.]
birdchasingecho: (Default)

Mei | Actor (Werewolf Rival, Amalia)

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-01-24 03:14 am (UTC)(link)
A Prologue

Once, there lived upon this stage a woman,
who loved, dearly, the City and people;
A streak across a moonless night, who shone.
She lived among them, and thought to dissolve
blood of blood's oath with sharpness of fang
to yet make regret those fouler intents.
Held by chains unseen herself, she yet sought
bind even her shade and her love's true word.
And unhappy to start, she knows:
She does not profit by't.

Our Beginning
And indeed, you may see her! Mark her-- She is there, amidst the crowds, helping to repair the damage, to replace what windows she may. Mark her well, in the clothes well-appointed, but of no noble ambition, in fur-lined cape against the cold, in rich color, bearing twigs of rowan sown with flowers on a bonnet that hides in good portion her face; with hair not unlike the sandy stone one may pull from the ground. Her eyes are green and hazel, and while her teeth may be sharp, the tongue they guard is soft-spoken.

That, then, the creature of the moon, known as Amalia; and yet her face and tone both are uncommon cold, as if forged from iron, even as she will hand you hammer, bid you go this place or that to repair, or hears a report from you on the matter of the previous night. "What news, then? Come, I will know it all, as best I can."

And if the reports of the injured and dead set her fists to tighten, she makes no other outward sign.

Welcome to Montica
But there is another face, or rather, the same face, that bears a different woman, who greets all as warmly as the dire situation allows, who reaches hands to help, hands to hold.

She flits from north to south without a care; a joyous gambol. For though she cannot hide her sorrow, nor yet can she hide her joy. This, then, her city, the City, Montica, where claw and fang meet and etch themselves strange upon the city's face. She is welcoming everywhere, and welcome everywhere, one of the rare who are, for she offers help without fear, favor, or regards to territory.

Even here she may yet offer you her time, should you dare approach.

The Market
Here, the news of the masquerade has not escaped her, and she has plans of her own; and yet, despite this, she is among those seeking masks, talking-- if not gaily, then at least brightly-- to others of the coming party.

For despite the fact that all doors are yet open to her, one yet, of course, remains closed, and that, ostensibly, is the Umbra Manor itself. For this is Amalia, whose family once ran the packs, and the Master of that place has a long memory, indeed.

"And what of you, then? Have you been offered place to help make the masque a success?"
Edited 2026-01-24 19:53 (UTC)
birdchasingecho: (Duality)

A BITTER LITTLE BRUISED REMINDER

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-01-24 03:46 am (UTC)(link)
[And here, two bear much the same face, and both are much changed by it. One arranges things behind the scenes, helping the others into costumes, her joy surprising for the work of it, and herself in a suit of argent. Her part is not for a while yet, and so she turns her hand for the others.]

[She's the newest of the Blood Moon Troupe, the Lily, Luna Argent-- only here these past few weeks-- since the new moon before last-- but she can recite the lines as if she knew many by heart, from many, many visits, a past beloved patron, perhaps, fallen on hard times.]

[In the crowd, another wears her face. Mark her; in a theater suit, with hair like sand or barley seed, staring apparently all impassive, as she listens to the play.]

[And yet, as the one in the audience joins in applause at the speech, almost perfunctory, the other suppresses her laughter in the wings-- and cannot hide the peculiar flush upon her face... and despite this, her brow knots yet, in confusion.]
birdchasingecho: (Iconic)

The Market, Early Evening

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-01-24 04:16 am (UTC)(link)
There is of course, one who is investing quite heavily, for someone who is not invited. Why she's halfway to a costume as she is, isn't she? with the mask like a shining star, the cloak like a shimmering sky. But that expression... It ill suits her, like she is a shade of her former self.

This, then, is Amalia, a bare head shorter than a destrier, with the hair of the old pack, with the eyes that shine like a proper young wolf.

What could she be planning...?

Regardless, she's cordial to Armin. "Hail. here yet to market?"
birdchasingecho: (neutral)

Re: Crowley | actor (human, neutral)

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-01-24 04:22 am (UTC)(link)
"Crowley. What news, then?" Amalia has happened upon Crowley more than once, in her twenty-six years, but they have never been particularly good friends. After all, before her allowance into human society, she was a member of the leading pack. After, she was still a werewolf who extended her care and money where she pleased, her thoughts bent on revenge.

Regardless, she tried to maintain an acquaintance with Tony, as she tried to maintain acquaintance with many on both sides of the slowly boiling skirmish war, without fear, favor, or expectation of profit.
newmemorywhodis: (Neutral 01)

Loic (Link) | Werewolf actor

[personal profile] newmemorywhodis 2026-01-24 04:38 am (UTC)(link)
i. Quest: clean up the town square
In the early hours of the morning, a wolf appears at the destroyed town square. With his dark grey fur mixed with a white underbelly and muzzle, he might be a little familiar to those who watched the fight; he was one of the participants.

(To those who know the werewolves of Montica, he might be known to them as Loic, loyal guard to the Guildulf family. He's full-moon born, and having come into the world as a wolf he never seems to have become comfortable with human form. Not once has anyone ever heard him speak.)

Despite being part of the cause for the carnage, though, Loic appears to be here to help with the clean up. His strong jaws clamp around pieces of debris, as he drags them off for disposal.

ii. Quest: A mask from the market
At one of the stalls in the market, a wolf is perusing the wares. It's a mask stall; filled to the brim with an array beautiful masks, of every shape and colour one could desire.

Loic is looking for something specific, however. There's an intensity to his wolfish body language, as he looks through the masks.

There! That's the one he needs - the silver one, decorated with delicate stars. He nudges the mask with his nose. That one.

Alas, when it comes time to pay for the mask, he has to shift. Now instead of a dark, silent wolf, he becomes a blonde-haired silent young man. Without a word, Link hands over the coin and takes possession of the mask.

This will do.

iii. Quest complete [locked to anyone in the Guildulf household]
A few hours later, he's at the Guildulf residence. They know him well, here; his family having long been allies. And its his job to help protect them. It's a role he takes seriously.

And, of course, he's Sigrid's friend. So there's that too.

He's still in human form, so he gives a nod and a wave to anyone he sees. Eventually, he ends up at Sigrid's door.

Knock knock.

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