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

[incomingchoppers]

"I might try," mutters Radar, too wrung out to keep his meaner thoughts to himself. He'd feel guiltier about it, but well, Aster is a literal demon, so. Also his head and ears are still killing him and that'd make anybody cranky. He figures he's allowed.

He draws his bathrobe more snugly around himself. It's definitely chilly outside this early in the morning, but it doesn't seem to be affecting Daisy too bad.

"...Did you know already?"

[hadnoright]

She can't help a huff of laughter at the frustrated mutter. There'll certainly be no discouragement from her.

"Yeah," she answers, shrugging loosely. "From the day I arrived. We're... similar. Noticed each other right away. I've got a sense for this stuff. And she picked up what I was putting down."

If Dahlia hadn't told her, she might not have put the pieces together for a while, but she knew there was something about her from the moment their eyes met. Something too loudly Hunt-like to be just a mark.

[incomingchoppers]

It's not often that Radar feels like he's the last guy to know something. He kinda hates it. Drawing up his knees, he folds his arms on top of them and hooks his chin over his forearms.

"I think I knew for a second," he says, low. "But one of the demons got to me. I dunno why they didn't do that to everyone, making them forget I mean, I guess they couldn't do that to you 'cause you already knew for so long."

[hadnoright]

"Maybe. I dunno." She's a little worried that some of Dahlia's family thinks she'll be the right kind of bad influence, as much as she's trying not to be. Her encounter with Eligos is still loud in the back of her mind. "Weren't many of us, before last night. Don't think Aster liked me knowing, either. But I also wasn't telling anyone."

[incomingchoppers]

There's a nonsensical twitch of noise through the ache in his ears -- another demon? something with a coffin, maybe? -- but Radar's tired enough to let it slide. He'll ask about it later if it starts making sense.

"I can see why." He rubs his head, not caring for a second if it makes his bedhead bad enough to see the bald patches. "Everybody's gonna hate her now, aren't they."

[hadnoright]

"Not everyone," she sounds sure of that, but she sounds just as certain of, "but a lot of people, yeah. No way around it. Some people will understand. Other people might come around. But there'll be no changing some minds. Can't make the people we've hurt forgive us."

'We', she says, subconsciously emphasising that she knows this from experience. There will always be more people than you expect that support you, after they find out you're a monster who doesn't necessarily want to be a monster. But there will be just as many people who can't see you as anything else, and you can't try and force them not to.

[incomingchoppers]

Radar nods miserably.

He doesn't hate Dahlia. He could never. But he doesn't even know how to begin dealing with the fact that she eats people. Is she doing it for fun, or is it like he thought when he first met Dolly -- that she's an animal who just happens to eat people sometimes? Does she want to stop? Can she? Oh, what is he going to do.

After a few morose moments, he speaks up again, tentative. "...Do you eat people too?"

cw: vague cannibalism description

[hadnoright]

"Not... exactly." She doesn't, but it's hard not to think ahead to the audio on those tapes, to listening to her future self gnaw on some poor bastard. But that's not the her of right now, she's not that far gone and hopefully never will be. "I feed on Fear. Of being Hunted. People's, animals'... mostly animals, these days."

It isn't as satisfying, but it keeps her alive and well enough. It's less restrictive, than the conditions Dahlia's under.

"Sometimes I think that's worse. The fear part. Having to make sure they're good and scared."

[incomingchoppers]

"I dunno," mumbles Radar. He shrugs. "You can get over being scared, you can't get over being dead."

His whole life since he got to Korea has basically been getting scared and getting over it. Somebody that just feeds off fear, instead of death and bloodshed, doesn't seem like that big a deal to him.

Unhappily, he adds, "Unless you're stuck here I guess. Then you can get over being dead too."

[hadnoright]

"That, and... well, I still used to kill people," Daisy admits frankly. It's just that the killing part isn't what feeds her, it's making sure they're scared along the way—maybe that explains her viewpoint, a little.

Though Daisy's perspective is... skewed in a way all its own. Death doesn't scare her half so much as the alternatives, of being forced to stay alive through the kind of trauma you can never really move on from. It says things about herself that she's not proud of, how she subjected Calvin to that very fate.

She sighs. "I'm not a good person. But I'm trying not to be that anymore. Same way I think Dahlia wants to be something else, too."

[incomingchoppers]

Oh. Right. Of course she's killed people even if that's not what she eats. Pretty much everybody here's killed somebody. Radar shouldn't even bother to ask anymore, should he, just -- just assume everyone's a murderer until they tell him otherwise, huh.

(He's so tired.)

Radar pulls himself out of the tailspin of his thoughts in time to catch the rest of what Daisy says. He makes himself nod. Stares at a little spot a few feet ahead of the steps like it's the only piece of the world worth watching.

"Makes sense, if you're going steady," he says, for lack of anything better to say. And it's so, so stupid with everything else going on, but he can't help thinking it: it makes even less sense now, if Daisy and Dahlia have so much in common, that Dahlia wants anything to do with him.

[hadnoright]

Daisy drags her tongue over her teeth and keeps the oh, boy off her face as best she can—which given her chronic deadpan condition is pretty well, really. Whatever is going on in this guy's head, she's definitely not equipped to do anything about it right now.

"Sure. That's part of why we like each other. But it's— easy, when you're like us, to... encourage the wrong things. Like. A monster-y feedback loop? Something you have to be careful about. But it helps. Having other people around."

[incomingchoppers]

Before Daisy's even finished, Radar is already saying, low and largely unfelt, "Yeah, maybe if you're too much alike it gets like a feedback loop, huh, maybe it's good having other people around -- I-I'm sorry, ma'am, I shouldn't've said anything -- "

Stupid, stupid. Radar uncurls and rises to his feet, clutching his bear tighter.

Floundering, "I'm, I'm gonna -- hey, did you see anything anybody dropped while you were walking around out here? I think maybe I oughta find everything people left when they were running out and, and then I can start calling and getting them back to everybody, it was real chaotic there at the end with the fire and I bet there's a lot of stuff they dropped -- "

[hadnoright]

Oh, boy. Nothing she's going to say is going to help here, is it. He really isn't running on enough sleep for any of this—not that she has much of a leg to stand on, in that regard, but she's on a rather different kind of hair trigger.

"Radar. You're running on fumes. If anything, you should be going back to sleep. Deal with the mess later." Then, adding based on the feeling that his own bodily needs might rank lower than they should right now: "No use to anyone if you're too exhausted to keep going."

[incomingchoppers]

She's said the magic words.

...Well, mostly. Even Colonel Potter would probably have to cajole Radar for another two or three minutes before getting him to shuffle off to his cot. But it does cut through that foggy urge to do something, at last, and bring Radar back to himself.

His shoulders slump; his whole body seems to follow it, like he's sinking down an inch or two into the dirt. "Yeah, okay," he mumbles. Still, he tries to rally. "You tell me if you need anything out here, okay?"

[hadnoright]

"Will do," she at least agrees, briefly pulling out her sending stone to wave it before stuffing it back in her pocket. She can call if she needs something. "And if something happens, just shout. I'll hear."

Anywhere in the house, doesn't matter how far away from her or how much muffling is in-between. She doubts anything dangerous is going to happen inside, someone would have to get past her first, but... doesn't hurt.

"I'll hold down the fort 'til everyone's got some rest."

Or, more accurately, until even she's so tired she can't keep going.

[incomingchoppers]

"Okay," he says again. "...Someday I gotta ask you about your ears."

It might be nice, talking to somebody who can maybe hear like he does. He bets Daisy would get why he's got a headache right now.

"But, um." Radar frees one hand from his bear enough to gesture absently over his shoulder. "If you find anything anybody dropped tell me that too? I'll go in and..."

Yeah. Looking about as lost as he feels, he gives Daisy a small wave goodbye and shuffles back inside.

(Where he will not go back to bed and instead keep wandering the estate, picking up lost effects, until Dahlia emerges from her room. Oh, well. It was worth a try.)

[hadnoright]

It's no real surprise to hear him still moving around, but no one can say she didn't try. Daisy shakes her head and falls back into her guard dog-like pacing, making note to follow-up on the question of her hearing when they're not all in crisis mode.