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

Martin Blackwood

[lofi_charm]

- Act One -

Despite Jon's misgivings about attending a party for Dahlia, Martin is utterly delighted. He can't remember the last time he had an excuse to get all dressed up! It's easy, most days, to give into the impulse to be underwhelming, to wear plain, loose clothes that draw no attention to himself. But at Dahlia and Jon's encouragement, Martin has been putting together a nice outfit for this.

And so, proud and puffed up like a rooster, Martin arrives as the date (holy shit, he has a date to something) of Jonathan Sims, wearing a grey suit with an ornate waistcoat and silvery-blue ascot. He's really leaned into the local fashion, enjoying the vintage look, and his suit is beautifully tailored and he feels--- great, actually.

And he has friends! Many are somewhat casual friends, still new, but that's okay! And maybe he'll even make some new ones here.

The first thing he wants to do is dance. To be absorbed in the lights and the sounds and the swirling masses and for all the world to fade away with just himself and Jon.

Once they tucker themselves out, though, it's time for food! Need a hand reaching a plate from the tall stack, or getting something from across the buffet table? Martin's got you, whether he knows you or not. He's 6'4" and not opposed to using that power for good.

He's also prone to bumping into people in crowds. "Oh--- s-sorry! Nothing spilled, did it?"

- Act Two & Three -
[ Amnesiac's Lament ]

Ṃ̷͌͝?̸̠͇̅?̴̠̲̍?̵̠̉?̸̢̿̈́ has no idea where he is. What is this place? When did he get here?

It's a party, he thinks. It looks like a party. The decor is kind of ugly. But everyone's dressed really nicely, and there seem to be drinks? And dancing? That's fun. And clearly someone here likes ?̴͕̓?̶̖̤͑r̸̤̖̒̅t̸̪̳́?̸̱̯̍n̵̗̊ enough to invite him here. He wonders who that is? Their name was...

What was it?

...D̵̥̎̇?̶͕̋͜l̴̬̺͗̍i̵͖̓?̷̯͠a?

Hm. That's not quite right. Well, M̷̳̉͆a̴̝̐͊͛?̶̝̻̎̀?̶̰̣͛̀͑ȋ̸͎ͅn is sure he will figure it out eventually. For now, maybe try to mingle? It's a party! Might as well try to have a nice time while his mind sorts itself out. He probably just drank too much or something.

Except everyone seems so far away or busy. Well, that's... that's alright. They seem stressed out. Maybe this party is kind of terrible. Or maybe he's just irritating. He'll just move on.

"Kind of a weird crowd, huh?" he jokes offhandedly to someone nearby, looking more nervous by the second. There are so many people here--- why does he feel so alone?

- Finale -

Martin is not with Jon when the spell breaks. The pair were separated hours ago, with Martin unable to recall who Jon is, rebuffing him over and over again until---

"Jon! Oh, god, what have I done---"

Fire erupts in the ballroom, and Martin only has a moment to spare Dahlia a sympathetic glance before he tears off, crying out desperately in search of his partner, screaming Jon's name into the din of chaos.

Act 1, and onwards... >:)

[apocryphalarchivist]

Even with his misgivings about attending, it's hard to argue with the sheer delight on Martin's face as they make the trek up Founder's Hill.

He doesn't spend much time away from Martin's side, even in bidding Dahlia a happy birthday. It's awkward, but he's doing what he can to play nice and be lovely when he's able. Martin likes her, after all; it's worth making an effort, if nothing else, to be cordial with his friends.

Though he's very much keen to stick close, he's prone to short little ventures away to check out this or that - and, in the short steps away he does take, he's always quick to return, usually with something or someone in tow.

This last trek away yields much of the same, as he's quick to return with a second glass of champagne, looking all the more pleased for it, stepping close enough to gently bump elbows to signal his return. Even once he's passed the glass over, he doesn't move much further away than that, either.

"Didn't miss anything too exciting, did I?"

[lofi_charm]

Jon's brief departures give Martin enough time to breathe, take in the ambiance. It's that comfortable, happy sort of alone, the kind that is just a moment in time and not an endless pit. And he's always delighted to see Jon back.

This time, Martin gladly accepts the glass of champagne. "Nope, I was just watching that new person in the diving helmet try dancing. Looks like fun, hahah."

[apocryphalarchivist]

Jon follows Martin's gaze, furrowing his brows - before they lift with an amused sort of surprised when, as promised, he catches sight of that new face (if you could call a diving helmet that). They truly do seem like they're having the time of their life.

"Oh, you meant a literal, actual diving helmet. I don't know why I'm surprised anymore," Jon jokes. For a moment more, he watches, before he leans his arm gently into Martin's - a small, affectionate gesture. "You know, I've never been especially good at dancing, but if you wanted to, I could surely try."

[lofi_charm]

"I'd love that!" The eager lift to Martin's voice is evident, to the point where he grows a bit sheepish. "I-I don't really--- I'm not good at it either, but I think it would still be fun."

[apocryphalarchivist]

"So long as you won't be offended if I accidentally step on your toes, then," Jon teases. A beat, a moment of consideration, before his delight turns a bit playful. He abandons the glass he'd gotten to the table they lingered closest to.

"Ah, to hell with it. There's always time for a drink later. Want to see if we can get over there before they get into the next song?"

[lofi_charm]

"Yes!" Martin sets his glass aside as well, offering Jon a hand.

They don't catch the end of the song. But they do make it just in time for a slower, more romantic tune, which gives Martin a laugh. "Reminds me of dances in secondary school."

[apocryphalarchivist]

That gives Jon a laugh of his own, letting one of his hands find Martin's own, the other moving to his shoulder. "You know? I'd never actually gotten to dance with someone during one of those. I always thought it was horribly awkward. Better late than never for it not to be, though?"

[lofi_charm]

Martin laughs warmly, taking Jon fully into his arms, letting his free hand rest on Jon's hip. "You were a wallflower, then?"

[apocryphalarchivist]

"Maybe a bit?" Jon's grin goes a bit embarrassed. "From what I'd seen, though, I didn't feel like I was missing out all that badly."

[lofi_charm]

"Do you still feel that way now that we're here?" Martin sways gently to the music, not really sure if he's leading or if Jon is. It probably doesn't matter, anyway.

Act Two

[glassaxolotl]

The comment is enough to distract Dedue momentarily from his confused searching. He gives a pained half-chuckle of agreement and says, “It is more than weird. Something is wrong.”

He then turns to remember where he was going and absolutely cannot remember.

[lofi_charm]

"Is it?" M̵̫̑?̶̺͠r̷̗̓t̸̺̅?̴? looks around, trying to get a better sense of the place. People do seem kind of upset. And the decor is really, really weird. "I just thought it was some kind of Halloween thing. It's Halloween, isn't it? Or very nearly... What's wrong, did something happen?"

[glassaxolotl]

“No, it is not that,” Dedue shakes his head.
“That is the problem - I do not remember what happened. I remember receiving an invitation for Dahlia’s birthday gala, but it did not look like this. The hallways are long now. And my companions are gone.”
There’s a slight grimace below his mask as he paces restlessly.

act three

[lovethyneighb_or]

It's obvious that Mulcahy has barely recovered his senses from the ball, staggering and bleary-eyed as he is, and yet--

And yet here he is, seeing someone desperate and in need, and just as he has a hundred other times, every loose end is cut and every part of him is snapped into place as he focuses. No matter what else, someone is in need, and he has to help.

"Sir--" he comes running up to him, reaching out to put a hand on Martin's shoulder. "Sir, you're looking for someone, right? We'll do this together. We can cover more ground. Do you know where you last saw him?"

[lofi_charm]

Martin almost doesn't stop when called to, so desperate to find Jon.

"I-I don't--- I'm not sure," Martin admits. "It's all fuzzy, I--- I couldn't remember who he was and I told him to leave--- He's---"

Focus, Martin, panicking will get you nowhere.

"He's Jon Sims! Do you know him? Almost as tall as me, desi, thin, long hair, greying a bit, glasses?"

[lovethyneighb_or]

Mulcahy squints. He grimaces, shutting his eyes and palming the side of his face as he tries to think.

Back when he was a kid? No. the M*A*S*H, he doesn't recall anyone who wore glasses who was also desi--on the ship?--but they're not--

Island, island, island. Who does he remember seeing on the island? The place with water and, and things like quills--

He opens his eyes. "I believe so? Is he the one I see coming back from the docks?"

[lofi_charm]

"Yes!" Martin is overcome with relief at the recognition. "Yes, he's a boatswain! That's Jon! Have you seen him?"

[lovethyneighb_or]

“Not recently, I—I can’t say I would’ve been able to see much of anything? But we’ll look together.” His hand squeezes Martin’s shoulder, a gesture of reassurance. “But we need to move. Do you have your sending stone?”

[lofi_charm]

"Ah, no, I-I left it at home," Martin mutters. "Maybe he's already outside? Or heading there?"

[lovethyneighb_or]

"It's possible," Mulcahy says. A familiar authority starts to enter his voice. "But if we go outside and he's not there, then that's wasted time. If he's outside, he's already safe. Let's investigate quickly. Only for a few minutes unless the situation escalates. Then we'll go."

[lofi_charm]

"I--- Yes, alright," Martin agrees, both because the argument is logical, and because Martin's always done best as a follower. "Ah, where to, then?"

lmk if this is ok!

[lovethyneighb_or]

The ball room is not worth investigating. It's already a very open space and Jon ought to have followed the crowd out. The riskiest places for him to be are also the riskiest for them to go. If it came to it... well, if it came to it, Mulcahy supposes he could shatter a window for the both of them. Sorry Dahlia, but the Manor is burning anyway. Splitting up would mean more ground covered anyway, but then he risks losing Martin in the scramble, and they've already lost one.

(Where is Hawkeye? Where's Radar?)

"Follow me," he says, and moves.

They look through every adjoining room and hall that they can manage, but rarely go further into the Manor than that. There isn't time. Two pairs of eyes and lots of shouting do all the work that they can. Soon enough (too soon), the fire and smoke becomes too risky, and they have to go. Mulcahy takes Martin by the hand and pulls him towards the exit where everyone else had gone.

"We need to go now! We'll keep looking outside!"

Act Two

[xiaoxiuya]

Shen Qingqiu knows he should be doing something -- fighting demons, helping evacuate the manner, something like that -- but ever since this white opera mask appeared and sealed itself onto his face, he's been struggling just to stay on his feet. The room -- or is it rooms now? -- spins and jitters around him, and Shen Qingqiu spins and staggers along with it, hugging one of the walls so he can be sure of at least one direction. And then somebody addresses him and he turns his head without thinking, tumbling straight into Martin Blackwood's arms.

He can tell it's Martin Blackwood because there just aren't that many people on Marrow Island who are that tall and that soft. Is this what gay people mean when they talk about bears? Jonathan Sims is a lucky man, Shen Qingqiu thinks, dazed -- and then he immediately flusters himself and starts stammering apologies.

"Oh god, Martin -- are you okay? Are you hurt? I'm so sorry, I, I can't walk very well right now, but we need to get you out of here, it's dangerous..."

Act Two

[gruesomegourmand]

The relief of finding a familiar face in this crowd is enough that Laios could've crumbled right then and there.

Between all the violence and madness, and the sprawling, infinite ballrooms, he hasn't known what to do, and it's terrified him. He hasn't had the chance to speak to anyone yet, but fortunately, his mask seems to have left his mind clear, at least. He's been in such a flurry, he hasn't even had the time to worry that such a silver lining might come at a cost.

"Um. N... no, seems okay to me," He says, furrowing his brows. He hadn't meant to say that. He knows these people, sure, but the Infernal scattered among them makes it anything but usual. Maybe he just misspoke. He's under a lot of stress, after all. "Are you doing okay?"