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unfinishedlibrary2026-02-07 12:18 pm
libraryassistants) wrote in unfinishedlibrary2026-02-07 12:18 pm
Entry tags:
- blade runner: kd6-3.7,
- doctor who: the tenth doctor,
- ffxiv: nara'a sunvara,
- good omens: crowley,
- legend of zelda botw: link,
- maidensong magica: claire ryland,
- original: iren suto,
- sonic the hedgehog (film): shadow,
- the rising world: kaiisteron,
- the wonders of mundus: hikaru aozora,
- the wonders of mundus: laina guthart,
- the wonders of mundus: siobahn greenwood,
- ~moonlit rivals
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 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.
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.
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.
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!]
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!]
Charlie | Actor - human | OTA (Late in because of IRL)
Harriet had ensured that Charlie was well turned out for the ball. All except the mask. The mask Harriet had purchased for her was lovely and expensive.. but not silver. Charlie hadn't known it had to be silver or she would have argued more strongly that such a ball was not a place for one such as her. But Harriet insisted, so when she was given the silver mask Charlie compromised. She set the required silver mask over her face and then affixed the mask Harriet bought her to her coifed hair so that she had a face in front and in the back as well.
Not from her dress would her status as a commoner be discerned. Harriet had spent way too much on a lovely baby blue gown with gold trim and white lace. It had far too many petticoats for Charlie's liking, and she hated wearing the corset under. But there was a small private thrill to the feel of the silk, the rustle of the underskirts, and even the odd balance of the bustle. She truly did feel like a proper lady.
And she had borrowed Harriet's jewelry as well for the eve. Somehow her refusing to let her Lady spend so much to buy her jewelry turned into her borrowing a small fortune to wear about neck and ears and wrists and fingers. She didn't even understand the point to the delicate rings, as they were hidden under her gloves. She was nervous wearing so much jewelry, fairly certain that the earbobs alone were worth more than she herself was. But she felt glad of all the bits of finery when she saw the other guests. And glad of the proper high neck of the dress when she spotted the fangs of some of them.
She'd never have dared come close in her urchin days. Even before that, she might have aspired at best to getting a job helping clean up after. But now she was here as grand and as fine as any. She fanned herself with the small silk fan as she watched people dance and mingle. She was enjoying being there, but none of that meant that she wished to dance. She was quite pleased to be a spectator; trying to figure out how one ate the offered treats without soiling one's gloves.
That didn't mean someone might not mistake her fro someone else and ask her to dance. Frankly, Charlie still saw herself as a boy dressed up some days, after so many years when passing as a boy saved her life. So she never thought herself pretty enough to attract attention, and didn't really think about how all that could actually be seen of her was her ears, the sides of her face, and part of her arms. Her shape wasn't even her own between the bustle and the hated corset. And her hair was hidden under the double mask. So even if others did agree she wasn't pretty - though she was - who could tell under all the finery? She did lift the mask slightly to try and eat, but so far that was mostly a lost cause, as she really didn't want to risk soiling dress or gloves.
Even so, she was having a grand time indeed.
The Garden
Eventually, Charlie would have wandered into the gardens, having given up on eating. It amazed her how much her life had changed that she could pass by readily available food. But then, going outside was part of that self control. She was afraid she'd weaken and take off the blasted gloves and mask if she stayed any longer amongst those temptations. So outside for air she went.
She was aware she was being watched, of course. But then she took that as presumed that at any point someone could be watching her. Even though the fear no longer held her as it once did, she doubted that caution would ever fully desert her.
She wandered the gardens, watching others as she was certain she was being watched. And she wondered if her father had been any part of helping to plan for all this. Probably not. But all the same, she was keeping her eye on everyone as best she could. Given her druthers, she'd never see the man again. And hopefully he wouldn't recognize her in all this finery even if he was here...