libraryassistants: (Default)
Unfinished Library Mod & NPC Account ([personal profile] libraryassistants) wrote in [community profile] unfinishedlibrary2026-02-07 12:18 pm

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

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!]
birdchasingecho: (Revealed)

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-02-21 03:53 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, then! I'm always happy to offer a dance, if you'll accept." A minor breach of typical etiquette, but perhaps this one doesn't much care? "It's a chance to hear of the outside world."
capital_asset: (This seems dubious.)

[personal profile] capital_asset 2026-02-23 07:17 am (UTC)(link)
There is almost certainly a catch here... besides the one where he really, really doesn't want to talk to anyone about the outside world. "That might not be so good for your toes."

(This is, of course, a lie. One of Raidou's overlays had been a preternaturally excellent dancer, courtesy of over twenty years as a prisoner/plaything of one of the Fair Folk. But Amalia - or her doppelganger - doesn't need to know that.)

Synodiporia means never having to say you're kidding.
birdchasingecho: (False Smile)

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-02-23 07:33 am (UTC)(link)
"Ah, well. Your loss, I suppose," she singsongs, just a little. "What do you do with your time, then?"
capital_asset: (Watchful)

[personal profile] capital_asset 2026-02-25 12:06 am (UTC)(link)
"Traveling, mostly," he replies, "though never in one place for very long."

He considers for a moment. "Have we met before? You look oddly familiar."
birdchasingecho: (hard-nosed)

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-02-25 02:07 am (UTC)(link)
"I imagine you must," she nods. Merchant, sailor, scholar, spy...

As for whether they've met before-- "Mayhap we have. I do frequent many districts, myself. Perhaps at the Rosewall?"
capital_asset: (Moonlight)

[personal profile] capital_asset 2026-02-28 07:05 am (UTC)(link)
He has been all of those at one point or another, yes.

"I believe it was the Rosewall, yes." Theoretically.
birdchasingecho: (soft smile)

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-02-28 07:27 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, that makes things easier!" She takes a bit of wine and cradles it. "There's plenty of truth to be found in a play. Do you recall which one?"

... This is definitely not Amalia.
capital_asset: (Passenger)

[personal profile] capital_asset 2026-02-28 07:51 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, he can tell. But there's a link there, almost as if this is an errant piece of her... "There wasn't one, at the time."
birdchasingecho: (Big Shock)

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-02-28 07:57 am (UTC)(link)
"Really? Not even a rehearsal...?" She seems to think, for a moment. The mask hides the knotted brow of confusion, the careful taking of another sip of wine. Ah, it's sweet. Nice.

-- Ah. She's clever. Her affect changes slightly, better mimicking the other. "Well. I'm glad you took the time to come to the masque regardless."
capital_asset: (This seems dubious.)

[personal profile] capital_asset 2026-02-28 02:41 pm (UTC)(link)
And if he couldn't See what he can See, he might almost have been fooled. As it is, he's trying to figure out the exact nature of this entity. "They might have been between rehearsals at the time," he offers.

"It's been some time since I last attended a masquerade."
birdchasingecho: (cooler head)

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-03-01 12:18 am (UTC)(link)
"True enough, though we are dedicated to our craft." She laughs. "Oh, but I misspeak. I am no actress. Just someone with pretensions of applause."

The panic causes the disguise to fade slightly. She is... older, but not by much. A werewolf, under there? Someone that is, even now, gathering her strength.
capital_asset: (At rest)

[personal profile] capital_asset 2026-03-01 01:10 am (UTC)(link)
A werewolf, or a facsimile of one? She is wearing a mask, seemingly without ill effects. "Acting has always struck me as a discipline that is more difficult than it looks."

He's not calling her out, but he's not not calling her out.
birdchasingecho: (acceptance)

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-03-01 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
Can't it be both? The thing, and the shadow of the thing, are not the same thing.

Add in that the silver is on the outside enamel, none of it touching her skin directly...

"You're not wrong. In a lot of ways, I think I would only be a beginner."
capital_asset: (Backward glance)

[personal profile] capital_asset 2026-03-01 03:44 am (UTC)(link)
Both of those things are true...

"How so?"
birdchasingecho: (Revealed)

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-03-01 06:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"I have only been an actress for a scant few months, after all..."
capital_asset: (Passenger)

[personal profile] capital_asset 2026-03-03 07:58 am (UTC)(link)
I'll bet you have, Raidou thinks. "It must be overwhelming, to start with."
birdchasingecho: (acceptance)

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-03-03 08:29 am (UTC)(link)
"Eh, a little. But it's fun. And there's nothing quite like the roar of the crowd."
capital_asset: (At rest)

[personal profile] capital_asset 2026-03-04 08:08 am (UTC)(link)
Raidou considers that. "That's more or less the opposite of how I was raised. But I do know people for whom that's true." He just has no idea when he'll see them again. "My areas of expertise runs more towards drawing and painting - maybe a little singing."

Or Singing, for that matter.
birdchasingecho: (soft smile)

[personal profile] birdchasingecho 2026-03-06 09:03 am (UTC)(link)
"Well. How we're raised does point us in many directions, doesn't it?" She hums. "But I'd say choice matters."
capital_asset: (Uncertain)

[personal profile] capital_asset 2026-03-13 04:43 am (UTC)(link)
"That's true. Both of those statements, really." As Raidou has been (slowly) learning.

He's still not comfortable being on stage though, unless he's (literally) another person entirely.

He pauses for a moment. "I don't think I caught your name."