September Event - Waltz of the Harlequin

[pumpkinhollow]

**Plain text version here.

WALTZ OF THE HARLEQUIN

ACT ONE: MAKE AN ENTRANCE

{ CONTENT WARNINGS: None }

SCENE: Leeds Estate Ballroom, night. Music can be heard from a small string band in the corner. Enter PARTYGOERS, stage right.

The estate is beautifully decorated, as it always is, in vivid blues against dark wood. Flowers made from blue and golden silk adorn the walls and furniture. Candles burn in tasteful centerpieces on the round dining tables. Delicious-looking foods can be seen on the serving tables, ready to be claimed and devoured. A member of DAHLIA’S diligent staff tends an ornate bar near the door and dancers in fine clothes twirl on the dance floor to upbeat string music.

DAHLIA can be seen in the center of the room, wearing a golden gown embroidered with roses and surrounded by her ENTOURAGE, which consists of DAISY, LAIOS, RADAR, and JEFF. All of them wear the colors of House Leeds---- blue and gold. She welcomes the PARTYGOERS warmly.

DAHLIA, going for an appropriate greeting for the person she is speaking to--- a handshake, a hug, a kiss on the cheek.
Welcome. So glad you could make it. You look ravishing. Please help yourself to something to eat, and enjoy your night.

It is a beautiful night. Formal only in appearances, the energy of the Gala is casual and light, if not a bit decadent. All seems well.

ACT TWO: ALL IS REVEALED

{ CONTENT WARNINGS: rotten food, blood, forced body transformation, unreality. }

SCENE: Leeds Estate Ballroom, one hour later. The party is well underway. When the grandfather clock chimes, it sounds strange and distorted.

The sound immediately draws the attention of DAHLIA, who grows concerned. The sour chiming continues. In the center of the ballroom, a plume of sickly yellow smog bursts as if from a smoke bomb, flooding the room and causing PARTYGOERS to stagger and cough. When it fades, the environment has changed.

Enter MENDEL, from the smoke burst.

The decor in the space has changed drastically. Where once the space was deep, cool browns and shades of blue accented with gold, it is now filled with ruddy browns, jaundiced yellows, plummy purples, and searing reds. The bundles of silk flowers are replaced with bouquets of decaying fishing nets, bloody gauze, and rotten fruit which seems to bloom from splitting bruises. Tattered swags in mismatched patterns line the walls, and each PARTYGOER is now in a masquerade mask designed to fit with their outfit.

DAHLIA, lightly panicked.
What are you doing here?

MENDEL, laughing raucously.
Surprise! Oh, I do so hate to cut in, but I simply could not go another year without doing something special for my favorite niece.

He wraps his arms, which look like graying, exposed meat, around DAHLIA.

MENDEL
You see, everyone---- Darling Dahlia here has been lying to you. Her whole life, even! Can you believe it? You see, her father was never Japhet Leeds. The man couldn’t stand her! Jane Leeds was still her mother, oh yes, but her father---

DAHLIA attempts to cut in, but MENDEL grips her tighter, clamping a hand over her mouth as he presents her to the crowd. His claws dig into her arm and her cheek. He continues to snicker as he speaks, and DAHLIA struggles.

MENDEL
Her father is my own baby brother, Prince Aster of the Dark Feast! Isn’t that a funny prank? But I think the joke has overstayed its welcome. It’s time to show your little friends who you really are, isn’t it, princess?

In a swift motion, MENDEL pulls DAHLIA into a twirl, as if dancing, sending her spinning toward the crowd. When it ceases, DAHLIA stands before her gala, changed. Her complexion is blue now, and her hair, raven black. A pair of bat-like wings adorn her back, and a crown of antlers like that of a deer wreath her head.

MENDEL
Ah, no, that’s not quite what I was going for. Let me try again.

With a snap of MENDEL’S fingers, DAHLIA changes again, her body shifting against her will. Her well-kept black locks morph into wiry ashen hair which covers her body. Her face extends into that of a cow-like skull with sharp teeth. Her hands become clawed, and her feet become cloven hooves. Before the crowd now stands THE PINE DEVIL.

MENDEL
There’s our birthday girl!

THE PINE DEVIL (DAHLIA) attempts to lunge at MENDEL, but with another snap of his fingers, his streamers and swags lash out at her like vines and lash her tightly.

MENDEL
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some catching up to do with my darling niece. And you all have a party to enjoy! I leave you in the care of my talented assistants.

He starts to turn away, but then holds up a finger to shake and turns back. Oh, one more thing, I almost forgot. I’ve left all of you some party favors in those masks. Have fun!

MENDEL grabs a bound and helpless DAHLIA and disappears once more in another plume of smoke.

Enter BLANCHE and SEEMINGLY (GLEE MASK), opposite sides of the stage. The pair of them meet eyes, and pantomime tugging on an invisible rope in opposite directions, and suddenly the ballroom expands as if unrolled like a scroll, becoming a sprawling labyrinth of tiny ballrooms, winding corridors, and secret alcoves. The PARTYGOERS are separated from one another. At the same time, the magic in their masks activates, inflicting one of the following curses:

• Leaky Bucket: deprives the party goer of their short-term memory. They know who they are, and why they're here insofar as understanding it's Dahlia's birthday gala, but all new information tends to leave their mind after a few minutes. (Think Dory from Finding Nemo.)
• Amnesiac's Lament: deprives the individual of long-term memory. All new information is retained, but they have no idea who they are or why they're here. How distressing this is can be at the player's discretion. Perhaps they despair at the memory loss and are trying to find a way to escape the ball, perhaps they don't see anything wrong with their lack of context and are just trying to enjoy this weird party.
• False Friend: the opposite of Zone of Truth, those with this affliction will be unable to tell the truth and can ONLY tell lies. Any fact from the most mundane to the most complex can only be lied about. Whether or not the person is cognizant of their new habit is the player's choice.
• The World Revolving: those afflicted suffer frequent bouts of vertigo which makes the space feel as though it is spinning, sometimes very slowly, sometimes very quickly.
• Dirge of Delusion: this particular curse will cause the mask-wearer to struggle to perceive reality correctly. Objects will appear as other objects, people as different people, rooms as some other place, or even the entire ball as somewhere entirely different. These disorienting visions will come and go at times.
• Feeling Funny: the wearers of these masks will find that their emotions are completely out of control, sometimes bursting into fits of laughter, tears, or abrupt paranoia, before going completely numb for a while.

All PARTYGOERS will find their masks incapable of being removed. Those with infernal resistance from NEIL or the HOUSE OF CARDS will find their masks are less impactful, but the resistance is imperfect. However, ALICE DYER and SAMAMA KHALID will find that they have absolutely no effect from the masks at all, due to the BOON OF DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY acquired by ALICE.

The party resumes.

ACT THREE: Dance with the Devil

{ CONTENT WARNINGS: rotten food being eaten, imprisonment, impending violence }

SCENE: a distorted Leeds Estate, time unknown. As the party devolves into chaos, a clandestine meeting is arranged to locate the host.

Somewhere in the distorted estate, ALICE locates JEAN. Once she gets the Golden Wolf Mask in their hands, JEAN will be able to remove their current mask to wear the new one, which has a unique effect---- the ability to see the path of MENDEL through its eyes.

JEAN and ALICE, along with anyone they are able to recruit for help, will find MENDEL and DAHLIA on the second floor, which has transformed into a large theater balcony overlooking the party. DAHLIA is caged, and MENDEL seems to be enjoying the view as he eats half-rotten tomatoes as if they are apples.

MENDEL’S assailants choose how to make their approach. When he is destroyed, the party will end.

GRAND FINALE

{ CONTENT WARNINGS: fire }

SCENE: Leeds Estate ballroom, late night. The stage has returned to its prior state, and we are left to the aftermath.

When MENDEL is at last destroyed, the ballroom is restored to its normal size and coloration, as if the events of the night never occurred. Masks fall away, and DAHLIA stands center stage, looking exactly as her friends and neighbors remember her. However, the memory of what has occurred here tonight cannot be wiped away, as evidenced from all the onlookers around her. Are their expressions concerned? Angry? Fearful? Hurt?

Does it matter?

DAHLIA, quietly.
Get out.

There is a moment of stillness and consideration, before she speaks again, louder.

DAHLIA, shouting.
GET. OUT.

As she speaks the second word, a massive burst of blue flame erupts behind her. Glass breaks. Tables topple. DAHLIA’s hair flutters in the force of the blast. She stands stiffly, unafraid as the hot, raging blue flames consume her ballroom, peeling the wallpaper and cracking the wood. She means to chase everyone out, even if it means bringing the room down upon herself.

When everyone is gone, the flames seem to retreat, as if sucked up into their original blast point. DAHLIA, spent, collapses to her knees in the burnt shell of her own birthday party, and sobs.

Blackout. Curtains fall.

After the event ends, Dahlia will be absent from town and her home only open to close CR until further notice. She will not be answering her sending stone or her phone calls.

Comments

Daisy Tonner | OTA

[hadnoright]

Act One

It's a fancier affair than Daisy's used to, but that doesn't mean she doesn't seem perfectly confident in the golden gown Dahlia gave her, that shamelessly displays her toned, scarred arms and shoulders. Her hair's done up nice and besides her signature daisy earrings, she's even bothered with some other jewellery. This is Dahlia's big night and she's more than happy to doll herself up for the first time in a long time for that.

Even before things take a turn there's the air of a particularly loyal hound about her, whether when she's at Dahlia's side or watching her from a distance as she goes about her business. Live a life like hers long enough and you start distrusting big events, waiting for something to explode or descend into chaos. Hoping it won't come to that doesn't stop her from being braced for the eventuality that it does.

Until then, she still tries to enjoy herself. Friends and loved ones can lure her into dancing without much effort, and anyone may find her at the edges in quieter moments.

Act Two, Scene One

Anyone who looks toward Daisy in the immediate event and aftermath of Dahlia's nature being revealed may notice something odd: the complete and utter lack of surprise.

In its place there is a protective, feral rage. Even through the slits of the mask now stuck to her face her own odd, yellow eyes are like daggers aimed directly at Mendel and there is something wild and bestial in the way she holds herself. Like a predator seconds from lunging.

Like she's about to do something very, very stupid.

Only an interception from Jon stops her, but even then it's like she's physically restraining herself, barely keeping control by the skin of her teeth as the streamers wrap around her partner and she can do nothing. Nothing but stand there, blood pounding in her skull and dancing over her tastebuds, as Dahlia's choice is stripped away from her and all hell breaks loose.

Act Two, Scene Two [dirge of delusion, risk of violence]

She knows this feeling.

Except, no, she doesn't, because she doesn't know anything. Nothing is anything and everything is something else and the inside of her head is filled with sound that isn't sound, music that isn't music that isn't and is familiar and— and—

She shakes her head violently. She thinks it's her head. She doesn't think. She doesn't know.

Sometimes, the ballroom is the ballroom is the nothing, because nothing is anything, and sometimes the ballroom is the wax museum where everything is nothing but everything is everything, and sometimes the world seems clear and she can think just enough to find the word.

Unknowing.

Fuck.

In this state, Daisy is a danger to herself and others. Faces are wrong, objects are wrong, everything is wrong and her hackles are raised like a beast backed into a corner. Be careful, she bites.

Epilogue

People who know her will probably notice that Daisy didn't actually leave the estate and she won't be seen around town for days after the gala. She'll reappear eventually, but until then your best shot of contacting her is by sending stone or occasionally by finding her pacing the perimeter of Leeds Estate like a restless guard dog.

Epilogue

[thethirteenthchild]

Dahlia lingers in the doorway of her home as Daisy takes another lap past the front gate.

"You don't have to do that," she calls out hoarsely. "I'll be okay."

[hadnoright]

Daisy's pace stutters, but only stalls entirely after another three steps. Her shoulders rise and fall with a heavy breath. "Would you believe it's as much for me as you?"

[thethirteenthchild]

"How do you mean?"

Her lean against the doorframe is heavy. She's so tired. But at the very least, she trusts Daisy fully. Daisy isn't met with the same incredulity or suspicion that her other supporters have been. If there is one person Dahlia knows she can rely on, it is Daisy Tonner. The question is soft and genuine, rather than an accusation.

[hadnoright]

Daisy's tongue drags over her teeth as she finds her words. "Hate not being able to do anything. And I couldn't do anything, back there."

One thing Daisy cannot stand to be is useless when her loved ones are on the line. Watching Mendel play his games and having to stand back and do nothing... just thinking about it makes her skin itch, even now it's over.

"So— guess I'm restless. Need to move. Do— something. Anything. About it. Even if it's not much."

Epilogue [day after the gala]

[not_the_last]

Dahlia isn't answering any messages. Hardly unexpected; Cassandra doesn't expect her to be at home to visitors either.

But she walks to the estate regardless, and approaches the front gate, not sure what she'll do if it's locked and no one's there. Shout at the door, perhaps, though that seems likely to be completely ineffectual.

The familiar figure that paces into view by the gate ... isn't anyone she expected to see here. Though perhaps she should have.

"Daisy," she says, not loudly.

[hadnoright]

If Daisy had animate ears, one would flick towards the sound. As it is, the subtle turn of her head just before she actually stops to look at her is the next closest thing.

"Cassandra."

[not_the_last]

A nod, and then a deliberate glance toward the house.

"Is she all right?"

[hadnoright]

Daisy laughs bitterly. "Not really. Her whole life just got turned upside down. And she's exhausted."

It feels, in many ways, like the day after her own rampage, but in reverse. Now it's her standing outside the door, whilst someone she loves holes up inside, tired and expecting the worst.

Epilogue

[incomingchoppers]

At some point before Dahlia wakes up, Radar steps outside, bundled in his overlong bathrobe and holding his teddy bear by one arm. What he planned to do: check the mail, even though he knew it was way too early yet.

What he does instead: thump gracelessly onto the front stoop with an exhausted sigh.

He pushes up his glasses to rub the sleep out of his eyes. (Just the sleep, he swears.) When he lowers them again, he finally notices Daisy pacing the perimeter; with a wan, unfelt smile that's barely a twitch of his lips, he lifts his free hand in a silent hello.

[hadnoright]

She hears him before she sees him, the Hunter's ears as sharp as ever—she might even have heard him approaching the front door, were her attention not so completely on the area outside the estate. At first she doesn't think to stop, but then he notices her and he waves and she slows to a standstill.

"She still asleep?"

[incomingchoppers]

"Yeah, I think so," he says with another sigh. "I haven't heard her moving around yet."

He sets his bear in his lap, absently curling his arms around it.

"You need anything?"

[hadnoright]

"Aster's head on a stick," comes out dry and deadpan, straddling the line between dark joke and genuine desire just a little awkwardly. Now it's her sighing. "But even you can't fetch that."

Even if they've barely been properly introduced, she's seen the guy around enough to see the nigh upon scary level of efficiency.

More seriously, she adds, "So, uh. No. I'm— fine. I don't... eat. And I'm too wired to sleep."

Epilogue

[redlightgreenlight]

The whole ordeal was nothing short of a disaster, and in the aftermath, it had taken every ounce of will she possessed to not call upon Aster and demand answers. The demons may always not work against each other, but she's certain that he would at least have known of his later brother's plans. On the other hand, the fact that he sat by and allowed Dahlia to suffer meant that Dahlia was not in league with him. She'd be lying if she told anyone she wasn't relieved by that.

Even if she had been angry with the young woman for killing Miles. Still, she understands why Dahlia had to keep her secret, which is why she's now walking toward the manor to see Daisy. A giant hound might seem more threatening to Dahlia and her friends, but it is equally as threatening to anyone who may stand against Dahlia, and Daisy knows her too well to make assumptions.

Daisy.

She knows the other wolf is here somewhere.

[hadnoright]

Valdis.

She's laid across the ground behind the front gate, taking what counts for rest when she refuses to leave the perimeter. In this shape, she doesn't have to be on the move to be a visible threat.

She can't talk normally like this, anymore, not without universal translation, but the privacy of Valdis's telepathy may be for the best anyway.

[redlightgreenlight]

You wasted no time showing your loyalty.

Valdis steps up to the gate and settles her bulk on the ground, shifting her weight into one side. Daisy would recognize it both as a lack of hostility and of trust.

I have heard whispers in town, some don't know what to do, others tentatively defend her, others...have more violent opinions."

[hadnoright]

You that surprised? We're alike. Even if we weren't also involved.

Ending up on Dahlia's side of the line was almost an inevitability, given how things have played out.

They can talk violence all they like. I'm not letting anyone hurt her.

Act Two, Scene Two!

[apocryphalarchivist]

Daisy.

As lost in the throes of the shifting, bending ballrooms (are they ballrooms? Have they ever been ballrooms?) as he is, wandering so aimlessly in search of a simple thread of familiarity, his pendant from the Ocularum allows him occasional glimpses of familiarity. It's fortunate that one of those glimpses, as he tries and fails to understand the space around them, is the face of a friend.

Even if he could possibly know anything, if anything was anything instead of nothing at all or an entirely new identity, he wouldn't have been able to understand that look on her face.

He draws closer in a hurry, failing to know better about sudden movements around wild things.

"Daisy! Daisy, i-it's me, it's Jon," He hurriedly tries to reason, the second he's close enough. His heart hammers in his chest, feeling like it's practically in his throat. "Listen, something's going on, we've got to---"

[hadnoright]

Jon? Jon's— voice, Jon's— Jon's face, except no, it can't be, because no one is anything and nothing is anyone, and didn't last time this didn't happen those— those things were saying they were someone that they weren't?

It was wrong then. It feels wrong now. Everything feels wrong now, because now is then and then is here and Daisy swipes at the open air between them without a thought.

"—get away! You're— you're not—" what isn't he? She already can't quite remember what is and isn't.

[apocryphalarchivist]

Claws. Those sharp, vicious claws, tearing at the air, tearing towards him, so far yet entirely too close. What he wouldn't give for an ounce of steadiness, something to balance himself on, a moment to breathe and try to get his bearings. Anything would do, but he has nothing more than the occasional glimpse outside of the unknown.

How could he even be certain that those glimpses are real? How could anything be real?

"Daisy, listen to me," He tries to reason, but he steers clear of that wide, open air, taking a step to the side, to try to stay clear of any lingering reach her attempts to strike might have. "I-I think Mendel's done something, this isn't---"

What isn't it? Another wave knocks the brief clarity aside, and he has to fight to get it back.

"Try to breathe, okay? Just--- breathe, a-and I'm going to do my best to figure out what exactly out--- even looks like here."

[hadnoright]

Breathe. What is breathing? Is she breathing? Does she need to breathe? Does anything need to breathe if nothing is real and real doesn't exist?

The laugh that comes out whether she can breathe or not would be manic if it was anything at all. "Nothing— nothing looks like anything. Here isn't— it's nothing. You're nothing."

Act 1!

[gruesomegourmand]

Loyal hound by the fringes, meet golden retriever who's been excited into immobility.

Laios has seen Daisy around many times before, and try as he might to find a good time to exchange more than a few scarce words, she is... intimidating. It's much in the same way that Dahlia is, so it feels a bit strange to clam up so badly around her, but something about her energy says so distinctly to not be spoken to unless it's important.

At least a party seems like a good time to break past that? They're both here for Dahlia, after all, and he so badly wants to be close to the people she cares about. They're important to her, so they're important to him, too.

That doesn't stop him from looking a little awkward, even in all that regalia that Dahlia had given him and the just shy of a full foot he stands taller than her, when he crosses the small few steps he'd lingered in, joining her side to look over the party. The smile he offers is earnest, even if nervous.

"Nice to see it really come together like this, huh? Seems like everybody's having a good time."

[hadnoright]

Daisy inclines her head to look up at him (why are there so many tall people in her extended circle, it's getting ridiculous) and studies him for a moment with those inhuman eyes of hers, before her gaze becomes more casual.

"Seems like it," she agrees, glancing back out at the party. "And Dahlia seems happy."

[gruesomegourmand]

Why is it that he feels like he passed some sort of test when she looks back out to the room? What kind of test would it be? Get it together, man. (At least he passed it??)

"She does! Honestly, I'm really glad to see it. Things have been so stressful lately." Laios smiles, ever fond. "I feel like everybody needed this, but especially her."

[hadnoright]

"Yeah. Gave her something nice to focus on. Look forward to. And hopefully a fun night that stays fun."

Not that Daisy finds herself with a lot of hope on that front, which she's not sure whether to blame on cynicism alone or reality. She's trying not to let it dampen the night for now, though.

"Stuff this fancy's not usually my scene. But I s'pose it is now."