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

[angel_of_baal]

She does not need to be mindful of his anything. If anything her presence here is a reminder to stay on the path of not getting riled up, because he wants her to have a memorable time. Preferably the good kind of memorable.

Against his black velvet outfit, her own shines like a jewel on a velvet cushion and he's very aware of how many eyes are on her. It makes him stand a little closer, not out of jealousy, but of pride. He is a wolf, after all, and if not territorial about places, they do get so about people.

"Since we're here," he echoes, letting something like a smile (it sits a little strangely on his face, like he has not had much to smile about for some time) light his mouth.

Despite the appearances, he is a more than passable dancer so her toes, in what are probably very fancy shoes, are safe as he whirls her across the floor.

[lightsgift]

There's a certain amount of performance even in simply attending an event like this, especially for Cinthe. She's been trained in appearances, used to displaying one mask or another for an audience, and it takes her a bit to relax from her usual composure and consideration.

She's here for her own reputation as well as his, and her first instinct is to put on the best impression possible. But slowly, she does pick up the flow and relax into it, and his protective presence helps a great deal with that.

She feels so much less stranded with him watching over her, the sharpness of eyes and teeth less worrying. It's still a careful sort of show, but having someone at her back...that feels good, and as they turn about the floor, sweeping through elegant motions, she finds that her smile is far easier.

"You cut a very fine figure, you know," she says breezily. Little golden lights sparkle around them, casting glittery trails with the motion because of course she's got to show off just a little. She follows his lead easily, fluidly, enjoying the simple shared pleasure of coordinated motion. "I expect you might hear it a lot, but, particularly when you smile. It looks good on you."

[angel_of_baal]

If anything untoward happens tonight, she will be the safest in the room, even if he has to transform, in the midst of enemy territory, using claw and fang to protect her.

But that thought is only in the far reaches of his mind, because right now, his hand is a light pressure against the small of her back as she dances, and her colorful clothing swirls around her, and little golden lights flicker around her like fireflies and who could think of anything bad happening when eyes as bright as those are looking at you?

Not him. "I do not hear it often. I have precious few reasons to smile." But the compliment flares a blush across his cheeks.

[lightsgift]

It's a precious moment of peace and grace, the kind of moment to hold in memory. Cinthe doesn't know a great deal about werewolves, but she's finding herself far more at home than she'd expected.

She understands taking care of your own, being willing to fight to shelter and protect. It just hasn't been often that she's been under that kind of care before, and it warms her as much as the cadence of their waltz across the floor.

"That's a shame," she says gently. "I expect it's difficult, amidst troubled times. I'll just have to appreciate it while I can, and perhaps give you more reason."

[angel_of_baal]

Maybe some of his father's curriculum was actually useful, because he doesn't really have to think about the movement of the dance. Which meant he could concentrate on her, and the way the candlelight caught in her hair like little stars.

"Times like these are a necessary reminder that the troubled times are worth enduring." He's not great at comopliments, but what they lack in grace, he hopes they make up for in sincerity. "You dance as if you were born for it."

[lightsgift]

It's a good skill to have, particularly in situations like this. Though the circumstances may not be so easy, they can make the best of these little stolen moments.

Though she lives a freer life, she understands duty and obligation well enough to both respect it, and mourn the necessity. She's been fortunate, in many ways, in her freedom, even with the hardships that have come with it.

She nods quiet agreement. "The things that are worth fighting for," she says. "It's not always easy, but we take our joys and our trials as best we can."

The comment brings a similar light flush to her fair skin. "Thank you. It's one of my first memories...my father teaching me to dance, and tumble. It very well may be in my blood." The recollection is warm and fond, and she cant help but smile, if a little wistfully. "You are quite well-learned, yourself, it's always a pleasure to dance eith soneone who knows their own feet."

[angel_of_baal]

"We do." What else can he say?

"My father taught my sister and I how to dance. For diplomacy, unfortunately. Not pleasure." So this was entirely a new experience. One he had never anticipated.

[lightsgift]

It's a heavy topic, and while it's painfully relevant, there are gentler things to chat about while they're enjoying themselves.

"I've been very lucky, in that regard. That I can do something I love, and that it works so well with my other duties." She regards him thoughtfully.

"You do a lot of these sort of events, then? I admit, I know little of the atmosphere, here. On either side. But I've some familiarity with...status, I suppose."

She's good at getting into places she doesn't really belong, a clever urchin playing at class. Though the diamond pendant around her neck does hint at some means, it's not where she started out.

[angel_of_baal]

"I want to hear about these things." She always hints at these--a life outside of Montica, wandering, dare he say adventuring. She seems like a princess from a storybook, almost, someone whose life is so much bigger than anything he's known.

He does want to hear, all about them...but not yet, not when the music allows him to whisk her across the floor, feeling the supple length of her spine under her dress, the glitter of her pendant still outshone by the light in her eyes.

[lightsgift]

There's a lot to think about, the politics and the worry and the threats, but just for here, just for right now, she's going to allow herself to be a little bit selfish. It's a rare moment in any of her worlds, and she's going to cling to it for just a bit.

"I may have to stick around a while, then." It's only partly a tease, under the glittering lights of the chandelier and their flow across the dance floor. She can't help the grin on her face, clear under her half-mask. "I feel like there might be some stories to be told here, as well. Or even made."

[angel_of_baal]

He should be concentrating on the political currents, which he was sure matched the currents in the stars and ether, but they seemed unimportant, a diaphanous backdrop against which she glittered like a jewel.

"As long as you want." Though he suspects, an adventurer, a free spirit like hers, will bore of Montica swiftly. Still, you reached out your hand for light, and took what the stars poured in, without wanting more.

[lightsgift]

It wouldn't be the first time Cinthe decided to simply stay a while. But having been abducted twice in three days now, she can't make any promises beyond her willingness to try.

"I might, at that. It is quite a city, and it might be a good time for something new."

There's a lot going on here in Montica, but she could do good work here, she thinks. That's definitely a part of the lure, even with the potential danger: a purpose, a place where she can stay busy. Lively. She hasn't explored all the options yet, but there's promise even in the chaos. Maybe especially in the chaos? Because adventuring has never been a safe profession anyway.

She smiles as thoughts flit through her head. And of course, the possibility of anchors, that's something. Companionship, purpose, bonds.

She might have a lot to think about later, maybe when she finally sleeps tonight. For now, though, she's caught up in the warmth of Sigwulf's arms...

And maybe the possibility of a snack and a glass of wine, soon. She scans the dance floor idly, almost an afterthought, but she's in no rush for the dance to end, either. When the song ends she'll linger, still smiling and inclining her head in something very like a little bow.

[angel_of_baal]

That's too many kidnappings. Clearly she needs a bodyguard. "I would like this place, at least, to become a treasured memory for you." She seems a free spirit and the worst one can do with that sort is to try to tie them down, especially in the sticky political net of Montica.

He's not breathless from the dance, but from the way the light shines on her jewelry and in her hair. Is the word breathtaking too corny? He won't say it then. He forces himself to break the spell, casting about for a reason to continue to talk to her. "Would you like a drink? The wine is...safe."

[lightsgift]

"Well, you're doing a wonderful job of it, so far."

It's entirely too many kidnappings, even for someone used to travel and the strange whims of greater powers. But it did bring her here, and that is proving to be quite a turn of events. She won't complain overly much, and, very possibly, "starstruck" might be an appropriate choice of phrase.

She might be more of a romantic soul than she usually lets on, no matter how practical her outward face might be. One needs that spark of soul to perform.

She takes a moment to gaze around, as well, just making sure the ballroom hasn't somehow burned down around them, and gives a small laugh at his comment about the wine.

"I would love a glass of wine. It's good to know it's safe, but...maybe the white, just to be sure." She grins, playful, no fault on him and his senses. And not in any hurry to break away, though getting them drinks would give him a moment to survey the room more properly.

[angel_of_baal]

"White. A wise choice." And a wiser one than he had made, but even so, the red had been unaltered. Though he was sure there were....other beverages available for the bloodkind.

But don't worry, his father had made him learn this, too. If nothing else, the Guildulf patriarch would be certain his children could survive in wealth they did not have. He returns, with two glasses: "An albarino, if you like dry, and a pinot grigio," yes, the words sound awkward in his mouth, but he's trying, "for something sweeter. I didn't know which you'd like." So, he did the natural thing, and got both.

[lightsgift]

So he got both. It's charming as hell, and she accepts the pinot even though the name isn't familiar to her. "You had me at 'sweet'," she says with a smile, and if there's more to the comment than just the wine, that's very much open and intended. Her eyes shine like the diamond around her neck, full of good humor, and she lets herself relax a little further with the first sip.

She's still perfectly poised and gracious, but just a little bit more at ease, a moment of rest between scenes. It says a lot about her current company, that she lets herself breathe a moment. She takes a few seconds to consider the stairway up to the balcony, before returning her attention to Sigwulf. At ease, but still watchful.

"It seems everyone is being quite well-behaved, thus far. I suppose with such rare opportunities, manners do prevail." Her eyebrows arch slightly, wryly behind the glitter of her mask. Surely there are plenty of daggers present, but at least well-concealed.

She's never sure if that's better or worse.