wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast. MOONLIT RIVALS LOG 2, SCENE 1

[libraryassistants]

Who: Readers and Actors, everyone who is invited (and those who are not).
What: The event of the century, the Umbra Ball, is about to begin.
When: The night of the ball itself, and a slice of the morning after. [ooc timeline: Feb 6th - 19th]
Where: The city of Montica and the Umbra Mansion.
Content warnings: Please include any warnings in headers.


Waxing Gibbous Moon

The sun begins to set, and the city of Montica buzzes in anticipation. Vendors close their stalls early - the consensus being that there is no point in running a night market tonight. The streets empty, houses and shops shuttered as eager folk stream up to the mansion.

A few industrious salespeople can be found on the way up to the mansion, selling masks and accessories for any last-minute needs. There is a rumour filtering through the people that a dress code is being strictly enforced, and the clan are supplying masks of silver for anyone who does not bring their own - a concept that delights some and stirs trepidation in others.

The Umbra Mansion almost glows above the city, light spilling from its open doors onto its perfectly manicured lawns and drive. After the sun sets, the metal shutters on the windows are lifted and the curtains are drawn back; and the night sky, in its star-studded glory, paints a picturesque view for the party-goers inside.

The strings of a waltz ring clearly, echoing out into the streets in joyful invitation. Not everyone will be allowed in - some will remain out here, rejected by the doorstaff or content to create their own festivities.

[The Masquerade]

For those who make the cut, the masquerade itself is staffed by humans and vampires and is separated into 2 distinct parties.

The first, for the ‘common’ folk. Those without formal invitations, who are free to mingle and be awed. They are greeted at the doors to the main entry hall - doors that will remain open for the duration of the masquerade. Human doormen (and women) do cursory checks before bowing visitors through, doing their best to keep everyone in line. (No weapons, dress standards met, no obvious werewolves.) Anyone who hasn’t brought their own mask will be offered one here. Silver, of course, and the expectation is that you will wear it.

A pair of grand staircases awaits past the doors, framing a magnificent chandelier. Guarding each staircase is a well-dressed servant. They’re making no secret of their too-sharp teeth or the red tinting their irises, and to get upstairs you’ll have to present an invitation. Gilded in real silver, these invites are only for the elite or those favoured by the vampiric aristocracy. These stairs lead first to a mezzanine; one that encircles the grand ballroom below, framing the common people’s masquerade. Arched doorways connect the mezzanine further to the sprawl of the mansion - in particular, to the private sitting rooms where sensitive… ‘business’ can be conducted. So too does it connect to wide balconies that overlook the garden, providing entertainment for those above.

The downstairs ballroom, lined by this mezzanine, is where the band of musicians plays. Waitstaff roam the sides of the room, balancing trays of canapes and wine. The doors along one side of the ballroom have been opened, allowing attendees to slip away into the expansive garden.

[The Garden]

Intricate stonework lines paths through the gardens, weaving around precisely planned flowerbeds. Stone lanterns light the way along the paths, providing opportunities for self-guided strolls. There are many quiet areas to be found here; whether it’s in the shelter of a small gazebo surrounded by fragrant lavender, or on a bench nestled beneath an arch of wisteria.

But don’t get too comfortable in your perceived solitude. The balcony of the mezzanine overlooks these gardens almost in full - the risk of being seen is never zero.

Out here, in perfect view of those mezzanine balconies and completely accessible to those on the ground floor, is a raised platform that acts as a stage. Here it is planned for a performance from The Crystal Ermine Troupe to take place: ‘The Tin Soldier’s March, or the Tragedie of Ierico and his Harlequin.’ There is nothing stopping other would-be entertainers from taking to the stage when it is not in use - assuming, of course, that they are not put off by the dozens of sharp red eyes watching them from above.

[The Hedge Maze]

A large, complicated hedge maze sits centered in the garden; its width almost as vast as the mansion itself. Vines of moonflowers grow across it, almost seeming to glow in the moonlight. As the night goes on and the partygoers tire of dancing, they may find themselves filtering out here - where a sense of renewed excitement permeates the air.

There is a game that some vampires like to play. Its origins are obvious, but its modern iteration is - usually - a touch less gory than decades past.

It begins with a human. An eager competitor, a jibing friend, or a flustered lover. Someone who takes a head start into the maze, blood and adrenaline pumping as they race to find its centre before time is up.

And it then continues with the vampire who begins their pursuit through the thick hedges at the set time. Employing their senses to track their quarry, they seek to capture the human before they succeed in reaching the maze’s safe centre.

For some, this is a simple game played for fun. For others, it’s an opportunity to demonstrate their skills - for up on that balcony are the aristocracy. If one can prove their wit and skill, they may find themselves with offers for greater power than they currently possess.

[The Morning After]

As the sun begins to rise, the party winds down. The vampires begin to retire to their sun-secluded dens as the many coverings on the mansion windows are redrawn. There are some human guests that might stay a bit longer, but all visitors are ejected by the time that dawn truly breaks. The staff, however, still have clean-up ahead of them - and a few extra helpers certainly won’t be noticed. Any attempt to breach the vampire’s sleeping areas will draw attention, however; so best to keep to the mansion itself.

And while the ball has been underway… some werewolves have made some fun of their own.

[The day will continue in Log 3.]

[Info post here and most recent plotting post here!]

Comments

Prior to the Event

[terraboo]

Well, one option for Nero's nervousness about the ball could be asking someone he knows for a fact has done at least a couple of these before, and who probably won't dare embarrass him in front of his father.

Unless his father would find it really. REALLY funny.

Meaning she's never dared try before so surely not tonight of all nights.

Seriously, though, Armin the Fool, after another round of line barking, slips in, and sees him fretting about.

"O wondrous scion, methinks you could use some scintillating conversation."

[aetherweaver]

He looks over at Armin and his shoulders sag slightly, tension draining out of it. He knows Armin's quite a bit older than him, though he's never asked how old. But Armin is one of the few people who he feels comfortable letting down his guard a little bit, even as he knows the Fool reports to his sire.

"Perhaps. I feel a bit out of practice, I suppose." He turns to face her more fully and rubs at his face, red eyes glancing down. "I know I've been trained in court manners, but many here are multiple times both my ages." He's afraid, but he's doing his best.

[terraboo]

"Fortunately, you've a few advantages many of those here lack. The power of rank can draw much forgiveness. Some may think this a chance to break your rank, sure... But that's where I come in. Or quite a few others who would prefer to see you succeed."

A bit of a chuckle. "Of course, there's more to it. My largest concern right now, would be your sheer nervousness. That is more likely to cause trouble than any lack of practice. Please do remember, we can still breathe, and it still helps."

Nero's success isn't necessarily her own... But she still wants it to happen regardless.

"You are the worthy scion of Clan Umbra. Carry yourself with the right mote of confidence, and you can force even your enemies to let you, oh what do the humans say? 'Fake it 'till you make it.'"

[aetherweaver]

"... I do try." It does remind him of his younger days, where he was nervous but did not have the entire clan's expectations on his shoulders. He tries to take a deep breath, letting the air cycle in and out. "I suspect the anxiety will be a bit less when things are underway... court manners are a mask we've both worn for long enough."

It's just that Armin's are much less mannerly than his own. He's aware of her quick mind - and he appreciates it. "I do remember that saying. It was something that was told to me quite often back then." He straightens up and adjusts his jacket, looking a little bit more calm. "... Our lord will hopefully not have to do too much tonight. I know many will demand his attention..." Unless they get redirected to him.

"... You do think I have a chance of pulling this off successfully, then?"

[terraboo]

"A key point in your favor... Is that anyone who would challenge you? Is facing a nearly matching pressure of their own. Bringing you down is nothing if they cannot try to get a leg up in turn. The right remark - the right goad - and you can cause them to lose face at the worst, possible, time."

She giggled a bit. "Do you, perchance, know why people like me have work in a court like this, o Scion?"

[aetherweaver]

"That is true." And he's done it before, even without psychic pressure. With it, he could bring them down fully. ... If he chooses to use it - which he usually doesn't.

The question gets a slight tilt of his head. "To bring down the mighty a notch? To keep eyes on those considered lower?" He's never considered her 'low', even if society might.

[terraboo]

"Both true... But there's a bigger one, too. A King who puts up with the fool? Looks very strong, indeed. ESPECIALLY when those around him react and he keeps his cool even when she slaps him on the butt and implies she mistook him for his wife."

(Actual historic example.)

"... Not that I'd dare pull THAT one on Lord Umbra nor you. A Fool must know their limits."

[aetherweaver]

"Heh." He's aware, and knows that she knows her limits. "While I may take your teasing better than our Lord, I don't think that would go well in public, no." He has to be more strict in public, even if he doesn't mind a little ribbing from her in private.

Still... "I wish we did not have to project strength, you know. But for the sake of those in the city, we must."

[terraboo]

"This is a thing, yes. I mean... I am not a fan of the conflict between us and a certain clan, but I know better than to dare unilaterally disarm."

[aetherweaver]

"With the wolves, you mean?" Or with the other vampire clans? They're a threat, but a different kind of one.

[terraboo]

"Yeah. It's becoming a challenge to Montica as a whole - and keeps us from looking at external problems, a lot of the time. Probably a bit too big to think about tonight of all nights, but..."

[aetherweaver]

"I know. I wish that there was another way. But you know as well as I that our Lord will not sit down with them. He would call it weakness, not strength."

He hesitates. "I never knew Maria... but I do wonder what she would think of all of this."

[terraboo]

"Hard to say, for sure. I think she would push for trying to create peace... But what that could look like remains a question I hope those wiser than I can find a path toward."

[aetherweaver]

"You are a Fool, but no fool. I think that in the decades to come your wisdom will still be heeded." He reaches out and puts a hand on Armin's shoulder. "But I do hope I can make her proud - for my sire's sake, if nothing else."

[terraboo]

"Now that... I think that's a much easier goal to fulfill. Especially if we're only looking at tonight."

[aetherweaver]

"I think we have to focus on tonight, lest we lose track of everything else."

[terraboo]

"Fair and wise. Methinks a rest is your best chance to cool, to focus and retain your readiness. Trust those you've already worked with to prepare all of this, then verify. There are those better positioned than I to help in a pinch. "

[aetherweaver]

He gives her shoulder a squeeze, then lets go. "I know, and I appreciate it. I trust you above many others - so if there is something that needs attention, I know you will wake me."

He really needs to sleep, even if his mind doesn't want him to.

[terraboo]

"Rest well, o fair Scion. Tonight will be one to remember, of that I am sure."