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

[lovethyneighb_or]

For as afraid as he’d been of her and for so long, it’s almost funny, the way seeing her now makes him feel so at ease. It’s just like the Army: whatever you thought of someone at first, if you know they have your back when the war starts creeping in, then you know. Even when Margaret and Hawkeye were still at each other’s throats, they trusted each other in the OR like the heart trusts the lungs. Valdis worked dutifully at his side during a state of emergency. For it, she has his respect.

Mulcahy is tired down to his soul; some deep and unmoveable ache exists there, has planted old roots there, and has been recently disturbed. But Valdis’ pleasant smile is returned. It’s a genuine look. There’s always room for warmth.

“I would be honored,” he says, holding out a hand. “Although you’ll have to forgive me if I’m out of practice. You look wonderfully enchanting, by the way.”

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis senses the ache in his countenance, both raw and old at once, but now is not the time to bring it up. She takes his hand and leads him onto the ballroom floor.

"Thank you," she replies. "You don't look too bad yourself, and don't worry about being rusty, if you need me to, I can lead."

She's fairly certain that he has no extra senses, but then again, she would have thought the same of Radar.

"Luckily it's a slow dance so no reason to push yourself."

[lovethyneighb_or]

“Oh, I would appreciate it if you lead.”

There’s a soft, growing nervousness as she leads him into the crowd, but it’s nerves and nerves only. As much as he’s afraid of looking foolish in such a lavish setting in front of so many people, with someone he holds in good esteem, he also trusts in most people not really caring.

“If I may ask… what ever made you pick me out of the crowd?”

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis assumes he knows the basics, but she gently puts his hands where they should go and waits for the mental count before stepping him into a gentle waltz.

"Well, you looked a little out of place and I was hoping to get to know you better. I know we worked well together over the Blight, and I know you are a man of faith, but my knowledge ends there."

[lovethyneighb_or]

He’s hesitant and a little clumsy at first, true to his word, but there’s enough there to show that he used to be quite decent. Hopefully he’ll start to shake some of that rust off.

He considers telling Valdis that he was there in the Village. It would be the honest thing. But to cause a scene here…

… he has really got to kick this secrecy habit. The problem is that no one wants to hear it.

“I’ll answer any question you have,” is what he settles for. “I will admit, I’m curious about you as well. It just didn’t seem like the time to ask during the plague.”

[redlightgreenlight]

If he were to mention the Village, she would tell him she knows. Both that he was there and that he had been on the Eterna. She knows each and every soul from that cursed ship, memorized their colors and feelings. But it might be creepy to explain all that to a man she's barely interacted with.

"I'll also answer any questions you have, but I can't guarantee you will like the answers. I have lived a very long time and done many things that others may be horrified by."

She slowly moves them around the dancefloor.

"I am curious about why you choose the path you did."

[lovethyneighb_or]

“You’d hardly be the first.” All kinds of colorful characters on that ship, really.

“There’s a few reasons. My faith came first, of course. But the way I saw it… it was the best way I had for someone like me to help, in the fashion that I found most fulfilling. I don’t believe that everyone must follow Him, but it is through God that I find the path towards goodness. A good priest is trained in morals, in counsel… and I never wanted to stand by when someone needed a holy man for a rite, or some authority to tell them that things would be okay.”

He’s starting to get his feet back under him, thank goodness.

“And a priest can pull quite a few strings, you know. It’s quite a bit easier to organize folks to render aid when you have a collar on your neck. Not to mention, it makes it harder for certain kinds of men of certain authorities to retaliate against you.”

He does sound a little proud of himself on that last point.

[redlightgreenlight]

While she can't really relate to the first part, the second makes a great deal of sense, even if it wasn't his original intention and just a perk of his position.

"I suppose that's fair, I've never really been a woman of faith, nor do I think any faith would actually accept me, but I can understand why it's important to others."

Even if she's disdainful of the machine of it, how its been twisted from its original form into something else. That doesn't mean that he's still not true to the origin of it.

"I take it you have not shied away from using that power to your advantage at times."

[lovethyneighb_or]

“Oh-ho-ho! When I was in the Army, my unit, a mobile hospital, had a terrific efficiency rate. Wonderful doctors, wonderful staff. Too wonderful for the Army. They had a remarkable tendency to render aid to anyone in need and prevent losses, even if it got them in trouble with the brass.”

The memories he’s recalling are fond. The war may be a horror and a failure beyond recognition, but he had never known better men.

“Usually they were weaselly enough to pick up after themselves, but I’ve pitched in here and there.” That’s a proud grin. “Not to mention that I can get away with arguing my superiors and defending others from them, if they get a little too big for their oak leaves. Thankfully I haven’t needed to do such a thing here, but… I’m not sure if I’d have the same kind of sway anyway. Christianity’s far, far rarer here than home.”

[redlightgreenlight]

Of course even a person with good intentions would abuse their position, but if anyone was to do it to save lives and do good, well she won't judge.

"I have found it is rare to only worship a single god, it's why there are so few of that kind in existence. Ultimate power should not belong to any one individual, don't you agree?"

[lovethyneighb_or]

Mulcahy has had his beliefs questioned in both good and bad humor hundreds of times before; it’s difficult to hold onto in a warzone, after all. Not to mention he spent years in the company of clerics of other faiths. There’s no offense in what he sees as merely an eager question.

It is with that gentle mirth that he answers. “For man, most certainly. But at the same time God is man, He is also something much vaster and stranger.”

And because he’s had this conversation before: “It also depends on what you mean by ‘god.’ It’s a word that’s asked to do an awful lot of very different things, you know. What is it that you imagine, when you say ‘god?’”

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis smiles, but it's an amused smile.

"I have met God, or at least the God of my own world, and he is not as impressive or loving as the humans who worship him believe. So when I think of a singular god, I think only of Him."

She shrugs.

"Your god and my Creator could be different, but as I am not of the race of man, we don't really know for sure."

[lovethyneighb_or]

I have met God and I am not human, she says, yet expresses such familiarity with the idea of them. … Hm.

“True. So there is no proof for, nor against the God that’s mine.” His gaze turns soft, then. “But for what it’s worth, I am sorry He treated you that way.”

Another pause as he considers.

“There is a limit to how much the finite mortal can ponder and understand Him. As much as Catholics believe in His being man and sharing the truth of our suffering, He is also divine, alien, and mysterious.

“I’ll tell you what I believe. I believe He is transcendent throughout the universe. I believe He is the space between people. I believe in His wrath as much as I believe in His love. And…”

His gaze turns. Something colors him then, a kind of forlornness. “I believe in His forgiveness, always. This is what I think many forget, including myself: that God loves and forgives the people that I hate. I must act knowing this.”

[redlightgreenlight]

There's a certain gentleness, sorrow and resolve that she sees in Mulcahy as he speaks of his beliefs. It feels as if it all goes far deeper into his soul than the surface faith of many on her world. But there's a purity to it, a lack of corruption. This man not only believes, but he tries. She can admire that.

"You are human, Father Mulcahy, the favored creation, is it possible that you believe these things of God because you have his favor? Even the Angels do not experience the love that men do. What is it about him that inspires people like you to such faith?"

Even the Angels do not receive the favor and freedom of man.

"Is it because you truly believe in that love and capacity for forgiveness? That no matter what you do wrong you will be forgiven and go to heaven if you ask?"

[lovethyneighb_or]

"If I repent," he corrects gently. "Which doesn't need to be done with all the fanfare and prayer that one thinks, in my opinion. Just a real change of heart and a will to try. That's the real kicker." Why should anyone be barred for not knowing just the right words? And why should it be easy for the ones who do?

As they turn about the dance floor, "And if it wasn't true, should I believe that the universe is that cruel? I don't think that'd be better for me, or that it'd make me kinder. I'm no saint, of course. I have done some terrible things, Valdis, and there are people in the world I could never forgive. I could even wish they were dead. But that's why I am not the Judge."

In his mind he can see it: 2's face. His face, on every crucifix. On Mulcahy's, the one he'd worn for decades. Bitterness rises on his tongue--but he reminds himself carefully, it's over. He's free. What happened with 2 is done and dust.

"If there was a man I wanted dead and he came to realize how much he hurt other people, and he resolved to become a better man... I would hope the Lord might test him, and that I never see him again. But also that He lets him go in peace."

(The bottom line of Mulcahy's self-hatred is this: God will forgive him. This he knows. It doesn't matter, because he can never forgive himself.)

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis considers his words, if only out of respect for him in particular. She continues to lead him through the steps with ease, but as a background thought, too engrossed in their conversation to care much about the dance.

"God does not make decisions alone, you know. He counts on his Angels to help guide them, but only a select few. He is not the judge of mankind either, and some of his archangels may argue on behalf of those first deemed unworthy, and sometimes against those who think themselves worthy. I have seen many whose shallow, self serving faith, opens all the doors for them on my world, but none in the afterlife. Some of them don't even get an afterlife."

It all depended on who got to them first really, the justice of the angels, or her. In some ways it was the same, and in others, different. If only she could truly figure out what she truly was. Surely she cannot be fully both.

"Your faith though, I appreciate yours. It is grounded, and kind."

[lovethyneighb_or]

He listens, nodding; firstly because she makes fair points for him to ponder, and secondly because of how much she speaks of her experience with the higher divine as firsthand. And yet "my world" is the mortal one. A curious nervousness builds in the back of his mind.

"It's merely what I want for others."

Keeping his suspicions muted, "And what about you? You've spoken so much about your God and archangels. May I ask what you are, if you aren't human?"

[redlightgreenlight]

Oh, there it is. That suspicion and fear that would cloud the mind of any holy individual in such a conversation.

"I'm not a demon if that's what you are asking."

Not that it would be a bad guess, what with her disdain for religion, gods and angels.

[lovethyneighb_or]

"Oh, that wasn't what I was thinking at all."

He's shocked at the suggestion, even. Valdis has been far too pleasant and genuinely helpful for him to consider it. No, this fear is trepidation, of the original meaning of awe-some; the kind of fear you get when you realize you're not just talking to some customer, you're talking to corporate, except it isn't just his job and finances on the line here, it's the matter of his faith and his soul. The root and the purpose of his existence.

He can't tell what she is, but he knows she must be involved with the divine, or at least some branch of it. He doubts her version of things is the whole and ultimate Truth; he doubts his version of things is. At least she seems approving of him??

"I won't push the matter if it's private to you. I can live with my curiosity. But I am still curious."

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis tips her head, slightly surprised that it wasn't the conclusion he had come to, though perhaps she's misreading how he feels. Emotions have many interpretations and tiny aspects that can feel similar.

"It's not private, it's simply a difficult question to answer. I was created as an Angel of Death, but through betrayal and pain I became something not of my own choosing. You saw it in the the Village when we fought with Kevin. A Hellhound, or at least, that is what we were called. Events since I became one have restored certain things to me, and now I do not know what I am."

She hasn't even told Max these fears, the fact that she doesn't know what she is.

"I suppose it might come down to a choice, but I don't believe I can ever be fully one or the other again, and I have long since been forsaken by my Creator."

[lovethyneighb_or]

"A--ah."

There's an new skew to his trepidation. She... ah. She remembers for certain that he was there in the Village after all. And yet she has been nothing but considerate to him anyway. And at the same time he saw her violence there (which was nothing that 2 didn't already have coming to him), he has seen her graciousness here.

Through betrayal and pain, I have become something terrible. Oh. Their experiences can't be comparable, he knows, but that is a sentiment he feels deep inside.

His hand adjusts its hold on hers. Something tenderer. "It may not mean much to you, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry. At least I hope us mortals aren't too terrible company."

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis smiles, continuing to lead the way even as he softens in her arms.

"You all have been growing on me. I tried for some time to keep a distance, after all, your lives are far shorter than mine will ever be. I'll admit I have always been jealous of your ability to dream as well, and of your connection to the creator."

But the latter passed long ago, and now she loves to hear about the dreams of others, and feel the joys they bring to her loved ones.

"If all who believe in the truth of your God are like you, then I hope I am able to meet him one day. Perhaps he can give me what mine can't."

[lovethyneighb_or]

A little bashfully, but mostly fondly, he smiles. “I will admit: Christianity is very widespread in my world, and like anything so huge, there’s as many bad actors as there are good ones. And many complicated ones. It’s merely the effect of being free.”

Something often wielded to terrible and devastating effect on others. Something he always finds himself at the knifepoint of. And yet, nonetheless, free.

“If you truly live forever, then you will find what you need. One day.”

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis smiles.

"I am well aware of how fact is twisted by humanity into something completely different from reality. It is the god you believe in that I wish to meet. Not what remains after everyone has decided on alternative truths to push their own agenda. It happens in every religion, but some seem to suffer more than others."

The smiles shifts slightly at the mention of living forever.

"It is not simply living forever, it is living past the death of Creation. When everything else has ended, I will still remain."

[lovethyneighb_or]

He considers this for a while. Truly gives it some thought. The sorrow in him moves, potent and bitter, but old, too. It's something he's lived with, and thought about, for a very long time.

"Well," he says at last, "that's a wonderfully long time to make a lot of memories."

(In the war, even then: parties and celebrations, of Mardis Gras and Colonel Blake with a rhinestone in his belly button. Of half the staff crowding into a jeep to beat a world record, Hawkeye splaying over the dash with his leg stuck out the door. Smaller things, like Klinger lounging on the piano of the Officer's Club while he played. A gentle smile from Nurse Kellye after a long day. Even then; in the war, even then. Valdis could live with a million years of death and desecration--but this, too.)