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pumpkinhollow ([personal profile] pumpkinhollow) wrote in [community profile] ph_logs2024-09-21 10:21 pm
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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.
hyliasblessing: (weeping)

Re: cw injury and blood

[personal profile] hyliasblessing 2024-09-28 01:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Zelda hears the howl and her head snaps to it. It takes her a long moment to focus her vision on Link with all the movement, both from him and from her ever-spinning head. And all the red... Goddess, that's

so much blood.

Stricken with a sudden terror that it might be Link's as her vision continues to swim, Zelda hauls herself to her feet for the hundredth time with a white-knuckle grip on the table she's taken hold of. Her eyes still can't focus enough to see what's going on, and she curses them for it yet again as Link begins to laugh. Something is very wrong.

"Link!" She tries again. "I-I'm coming! Just wait there---"

When he sees her, she's wearing a stylized mask, with big furry ears and glass antlers and a long snout that comes away from her nose and elongates her face. It looks like the top-half of a dragon's face. Glass tears are embedded into the plaster near the eye-holes, which are covered with a delicate prismatic film of some kind that makes her eyes look very strange indeed.
dubiousfoodie: https://mintaii.tumblr.com/post/716590914885255168/ (Default)

[personal profile] dubiousfoodie 2024-09-28 06:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Link's heart jerks--in any other situation he'd trust her as a fellow combatant, but he saw the way she was twisting and tilting. She's incapacitated. You can't fight like that.

"Wait, stop!" he burbles, the way you'd beg someone to stop tickling you. Link looks up towards her (no reassuring flash of blonde from Link; all Zelda can see is the Fused Shadow, a smear of strange and occult stone with carved patterns that swim in the vision, stained eerie blue-green) and he sees--

He hesitates for too long.

Something tears with a thick and sharp snap under his hands. Piano strings as vocal chords burst apart with a discordant shriek. Freed from the confines of the servant's black and reflective body, they lash around Link's arms and throat, slicing, tightening, strangling, and still he can't stop laughing. Choking, he laughs. As the servant turns itself inside out, rocking and splintering into an urchin of red-stained wooden hammers and steel cables that he rips apart as fast as they appear, he laughs, laughs, laughs.

Is it blood or is it oil? It slicks across the floor past Zelda's feet, and some of the cables, like feelers, reach for her.
hyliasblessing: (pic#17046951)

[personal profile] hyliasblessing 2024-09-28 07:09 pm (UTC)(link)
When she hears him tell her to stop, she does. He sees her. That's enough. She won't try to make it any further.

Down again. This time of her own volition, sitting herself on the wooden floor, trying desperately to get her head together as she swears she can see swirling pools of red and black soaking into her white trousers. His laughter, a sound that usually brings her so much joy, breaks her heart. It's manic, forced. Something is wrong and Zelda can't help.
dubiousfoodie: https://mintaii.tumblr.com/post/716590914885255168/ (pikida stonegrove)

[personal profile] dubiousfoodie 2024-09-28 07:29 pm (UTC)(link)
More strings snap, utter trivialities to the strength that parries charging Lynels and throws boulders. Zelda has stopped, and he doesn't think about anything else except ripping this thing apart.

He reaches for that dangling head and tears it off the rest of the way. With a final sigh, everything stops moving. Link untangles himself and runs for her. (The worst part about all the oil-blood is that now everything's slippery.) She's soaked in red. Looking at her masked face for longer than a moment, he's reminded suddenly of the way he ended up on this island in the first place, caught between the jaws of the-thing-that-was-Ganondorf. Zelda, in all her forms, soaked in blood. It's not hers, but it feels like a portent of a terrible fate.

"Zelda," he sobs, reaching for her, to put her hands on him, so she can touch him even if she can't focus on him. Tears drip out from the bottom of the mask. There's so much blood. Only some of it is Link's. How much of it is hers?

What he means to say is are you hurt? What comes out instead, unbidden and desperate as he stares into her strange and terrible eyes, is "I'm sorry."
hyliasblessing: (held)

[personal profile] hyliasblessing 2024-09-28 08:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Tears rise to Zelda's eyes as well, real ones sliding down her face within the mask to match the crystal ones affixed to its cheeks. Both because it pains her so deeply to see Link in this state, even if she still isn't quite sure what it means yet, but also in relief that he's finally at her side again.

Her fingers feel out the details of the strange mask, then find his shoulders, and pull him into a tight embrace. "Don't be, don't be," she assures him softly, holding him tight. "You've got--- nothing to be sorry for, love. I'm okay. We're alright."

In Link's arms, Zelda at last feels grounded, the swell of vertigo easing at last to a gentle swim.