ph_logs | September Event - Waltz of the Harlequin

**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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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."

"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."

"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?"

"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."

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?"

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

"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."

"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.

"Oh, God, not at all. I think this makes up for a lifetime of skipped ones," Jon jokes, so very fond, entirely pleased to be swayed. He even gets daring enough to take a short, guiding step, starting to take a tentative lead. If neither of them know how to go about this, surely they can figure it out together?

Oh, good, Jon wants to lead! Martin hoped he would, and looks pleased. "It's better than it was in school, certainly. The ambiance is much better. And the company."

"Very much so," Jon agrees, very encouraged by Martin looking so content as he does. It takes some glances over to other dancers occasionally to get an idea of exactly what to do, but he's a quick learner, at least.

"You know, maybe if we'd been horribly awkward teenagers in the same schools, I'd have bothered to actually give it a shot! But this one has been well worth the wait."

"I was hopeless in school. I probably couldn't have even talked to you without tripping over myself," Martin jokes. "Not that I could at work, at first, but I definitely would not have even tried. I would've just looked at you weirdly all the time."

"No? I was a bit of a shit, I might have caught you looking, and decided if you were going to stare, that we may as well be friends about it," Jon snickers. "I was also hopeless, in a distinctly, possibly worse way. Honestly, it's for the best that you didn't have to see it."

Martin laughs warmly, envisioning another life in his head. "We would have been in obnoxious, awkward teenage love. It would've made for a dorky romcom, I bet."

"Hah! Maybe it would've," Jon grins, side-stepping and leading Martin in a lazy spin. "If there's a world where that's happening, I wish them luck. They'll certainly need it."

"I bet they're happy," Martin says softly as he returns from the spin, happy to be back in Jon's arms. "God, you look amazing. I know I keep saying it but wow."

Spin success! He's getting the hang of this, thank goodness. The compliment turns his smile sheepish, though. "I--- hah, I'm glad I was able to clean up decently! I could say the same about you, though. You look *fantastic* in the vintage sort of styles. Might have to start trying to find more opportunities to get you in a waistcoat."

You just might!" As the song winds down, Martin pulls Jon into a short, sweet kiss before taking his hands again. "I don't think we're as bad at dancing as we thought! Nobody died or anything."

Jon returns the kiss, unable to help how he practically radiates warm delight as he pulls back, squeezing Martin's hands where they'd been taken. "No deaths, no horrible injuries, and all our limbs are intact. I think we can call it a win. Maybe I'll steal you away for another before the night ends?"

September Event - Waltz of the Harlequin

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