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unfinishedlibrary2026-02-07 12:20 pm
libraryassistants) wrote in unfinishedlibrary2026-02-07 12:20 pm
do you bare your fangs at us, sir? MOONLIT RIVALS LOG 2, SCENE 2
Who: Readers and Actors
What: The werewolves who are not sneaking into the party cause a bit of mischief... and did anybody actually agree to keep the peace tonight?
When: The night of the ball itself. [ooc timeline: Feb 6th - 19th]
Where: The city of Montica.
Content warnings: Please include any warnings in headers.
Waxing Gibbous Moon
The streets have emptied, particularly in the vampiric half of town. Most of the vampire loyalists have joined the masquerade, leaving their homes and shops unattended. Tonight is a special night - a once in a century event, and they wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Even some werewolves and neutral citizens have been enticed to attend. Jadis the Mystic has created a lotion that will disguise the scent of a werewolf; an effect that is broken by shifting, breaking the skin, or the gradual passage of time. It is not widely distributed, but rumours travel fast. The lotion is only given to any Guildulf-aligned werewolves, but… well, there’s nothing wrong with a little trade here or there. Right?
For all of the wolves in town - with the moon so close to being full, it’s natural for them to feel a bit more excitable. Energetic. Ready to take on the world. And seeing as Montica is so empty, it’s like a playground has just been opened up. The young wolves in particular are eager to take advantage of the empty streets, the sound of not-quite-mature howls breaking through the air in their excitement. There are hardly any people around to be scared if they play too rough or run too fast, and they are taking advantage of this with great enthusiasm.
In the highly-debated 'neutral' zone, some small packs of adolescent werewolves are gathering. There's banter and roughhousing, the not-quite-adults playfully shoving each-other over the invisible line where the vampire territory begins.
Some of the bravest amongst them take the challenge to dart over and brush their fingers over silver doorhandles - their yelps spurring courage and adrenaline in the others. What starts harmlessly enough quickly escalates as they urge each-other on, teenage excitement and the thrill of the moon encouraging all sorts of bad choices. The longer they go without reprimand, the more bold they become; and somewhere along the way, bulbs of garlic start winding up in places they wouldn't normally be found. (There is at least one group who is excitedly challenging each-other to leave the garlic in more and more absurd places. If they happen to sting themselves on some silver ornamentation on the way, all the better.)
Not all homes are unoccupied, though - sooner or later someone’s going to disturb someone else’s peace, and tensions are already so high. Hopefully there are some Responsible Adults around to curtail the worst of the mischief before someone’s temper is sparked.
What: The werewolves who are not sneaking into the party cause a bit of mischief... and did anybody actually agree to keep the peace tonight?
When: The night of the ball itself. [ooc timeline: Feb 6th - 19th]
Where: The city of Montica.
Content warnings: Please include any warnings in headers.
Waxing Gibbous Moon
In Town
Above the city, the Umbra Mansion stands tall. Its grand doors and windows have been opened, spilling light like a beacon. Music lilts in the air, drifting so far as to be faintly heard even in the neutral centre of the city.The streets have emptied, particularly in the vampiric half of town. Most of the vampire loyalists have joined the masquerade, leaving their homes and shops unattended. Tonight is a special night - a once in a century event, and they wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Even some werewolves and neutral citizens have been enticed to attend. Jadis the Mystic has created a lotion that will disguise the scent of a werewolf; an effect that is broken by shifting, breaking the skin, or the gradual passage of time. It is not widely distributed, but rumours travel fast. The lotion is only given to any Guildulf-aligned werewolves, but… well, there’s nothing wrong with a little trade here or there. Right?
For all of the wolves in town - with the moon so close to being full, it’s natural for them to feel a bit more excitable. Energetic. Ready to take on the world. And seeing as Montica is so empty, it’s like a playground has just been opened up. The young wolves in particular are eager to take advantage of the empty streets, the sound of not-quite-mature howls breaking through the air in their excitement. There are hardly any people around to be scared if they play too rough or run too fast, and they are taking advantage of this with great enthusiasm.
In the highly-debated 'neutral' zone, some small packs of adolescent werewolves are gathering. There's banter and roughhousing, the not-quite-adults playfully shoving each-other over the invisible line where the vampire territory begins.
Some of the bravest amongst them take the challenge to dart over and brush their fingers over silver doorhandles - their yelps spurring courage and adrenaline in the others. What starts harmlessly enough quickly escalates as they urge each-other on, teenage excitement and the thrill of the moon encouraging all sorts of bad choices. The longer they go without reprimand, the more bold they become; and somewhere along the way, bulbs of garlic start winding up in places they wouldn't normally be found. (There is at least one group who is excitedly challenging each-other to leave the garlic in more and more absurd places. If they happen to sting themselves on some silver ornamentation on the way, all the better.)
Not all homes are unoccupied, though - sooner or later someone’s going to disturb someone else’s peace, and tensions are already so high. Hopefully there are some Responsible Adults around to curtail the worst of the mischief before someone’s temper is sparked.
no subject
"We lived through the night and my lord will keep his right arm, though the state of it-" She grimaces. The work she'd done on his maimed and shattered arm is quite beyond what any other healer native to Montica could have pulled off even fully rested and well-supplied. It's just also not good enough, she'd run against the limits of her understanding and strength and came up wanting. Even if she hadn't been throwing her magic around, she couldn't have restored it perfectly. "Well. We still live, but it was a near thing. The... one of the heads of the families came without a formal challenge, bringing a posse. I didn't predict that."
She does not say anything about it being partly her fault, though she feels it. There have always been rumors about her, the Guildulfs' pet witch, Roberte's pet witch, which have grown over the years to be less about him keeping a woman and more about her supposed influence on him and his tendency to trust her. A few days back she'd advised him on several things other packs and individuals would try on the night of the masquerade and he'd acted on it as reliable information. This hasn't been particularly popular and she'd expected Apienne to harangue her patron, not this.
Trying to shake it off, Jadis lets Amalia in. "And you? I'm... sorry, I've forgot what you were meaning to do last night, but I'm glad you've made it here."
no subject
Minecart road leads further into Montica's mountains, and the Salten road leads to the port town less than a days' walk away. It should be noted Umbra Manor is near the middle of silversmith territory. Very wide-ranging to be Umbrans.
"Years of preparation and my guarantee of calm, ruined at the hands of people who haven't the sense to ask someone whose trade is information what information she is trading! And there were several bites. One yet a boy. I. Am. Livid."
no subject
"I see," she says, pulling her focus from the happenings on the estate to those on the Laurelthirst. The little she'd picked up from it didn't make a great deal of sense but she'd been busy at the time. "So all that work trying to head off attacks on the vampires left a lot of idiot pups to find other targets. That's terrible news. If you send me the bitten, or bring me to them, I will treat them. No charge, I've already made up several doses and they only stay effective for a few days."
Her dark eyes are earnest and concerned. Jadis is very rarely angry, to look at her; she tends to show the sorrow or fear that often go with that emotion instead. "Those poor staff and patrons. Were there any deaths, do you know? Any serious injuries? The whole troupe wasn't away at the masquerade, were they?"
no subject
"And for the cure, I thank you. But... As for the news of vampire strikes, I know it can't have been the Umbra. Most everyone who wanted anything from the Umbra was there that night, even if I couldn't weigh all their hearts."
no subject
"Mmm. Those who never even set eyes on the Umbra household are of truly minor standing, all but outcasts, and rather meek. ...At least, those who have homes in the city." There had been a few, and they'd seemed like potential targets to certain families not because they'd really done anything but because they'd been left so little defended. Vampires who aren't elegant or fearsome. "I haven't heard much about these vampire strikes. Were victims left alive? Turned?"
She hopes it wasn't the night heron. Jadis is well aware that he's killing people for reasons that make sense to him.
no subject
no subject
She's not a werewolf and goes to considerable lengths not to turn, but having been in her unusual position for a decade she considers them as closer to an "us" than a "you".
"My lord is going to have to hear about that, and soon. But, ah-" She hesitates. "He's quite angry after last night. I've never seen him so upset. He will be able to shift to take in this sort of news, I think, but not easily."
no subject
"And yes. He will. But... If that's the case, doing investigation of my own initiative can only be for the better."
no subject
"So there would only be a number of drained werewolves as a statement, or... what, vampires who can't get at humans?" Jadis starts to scratch her head, encounters the headscarf she's wrapped around it, and lowers her hand. "Hmm. What are your ideas?"
She's not going to not keep Roberte informed. This is stalling a bit though. They're in disagreement about something, on top of genuine rage, and the way Jadis usually has of being an exception to the harsh face he presents is not going to be quite as effective.
no subject
"... I owe Lord Umbra a personal apology, much as it pains me to say. If these are what's been riling the werewolves, he's not directly involved."
no subject
Amalia wouldn't say personal apology if she'd merely felt Lord Umbra was behind various issues, would she? "Why, did you confront him about it?"
no subject
She takes up an arrowhead made of iron, and clutches it. Jadis can feel the familiar weight of fate being called upon. She means to swear an Iron Vow, a promise to pursue the matter to death-- and perhaps after it, if oath be dire enough.
no subject
"A moment first. Are you sure you want to swear by that?" Jadis asks softly. She's not saying don't, just urging her to pause and think. Honestly, she wouldn't swear so for almost anything, but, after all, Amalia does stand to gain quite a lot. "Can you do this without swearing? If it's another who ends up taking the fore, will that harm you?"
She's aware that Amalia's got that particular intuition for finding herself in the right place at the right time when something matters enough to her. It's very probable she will be the central figure here, but not guaranteed, especially if outsiders involve themselves. Jadis has the unhelpfully vague sense that they're going to find something, whoever is responsible won't just slip away entirely, anyway.
no subject
Another faint pause. "You are right that I should be careful with my vow."