Stroke of Midnight [OPEN]

[acrookedchild]

Miss Abigail Widdowson cordially invites you to Geap Manor on Wednesday, July 1st at 19:00.

Food, drinks, and music will be provided.

All are welcome, but individuals are to be aware that any hostilities during the evening's festivities will not be tolerated.

It is the first time in at least a generation that the doors of Geap Manor have been opened to the general population. Or, at least, as general as the supernatural community could be considered. Some invitiations were made personally, but most were formally sent to the higher ranking members of the various factions.

Dinner is announced precisely at 19:30. The small, intimate eating area for the family has been turned into a buffet room. The caterers Abigail hired have obviously been paid well to make sure there is something for everyone. Rich meat dishes, hearty vegetarian dishes, light fish dishes, plenty of accompaniments and finger food. There is also plenty of fairly fresh blood for vampires. For the others, there are wines, water, and tea available.

The grand dining room has had its large table removed, replaced, instead, by small tables that can comfortably hold four. They can, of course, be pushed together to allow for more room.

The ballroom is open to the guests, and the DJ has also been highly paid to make sure the music played is precisely to the hostess's tastes. There is plenty of modern music, good for dancing, as well as older classics. However, interspersed are classical pieces meant for waltzes and foxtrots and other such ballroom dances.

In the sitting room is a drink cart with wine, tea, water, and blood. Chairs and divans are available, as the room is a quiet place, a little away from the ballroom, so conversation can be had with ease. There is an unlit fireplace, and a portrait of Abigail a few years younger than she is now hangs above it.

Most of the rest of the house is locked. One can wander the hallways, but it may prove ultimately fruitless. One who simply walks up the stairways will find the walls of each lined with the Widdowson family portraits of every generation, starting with one of a ten-year-old Abby, her parents, and her six-year-old brother. As one takes in all the paintings, a pattern presents itself. Every Widdowson woman featured is pale, thin, and blonde.

The grounds are beautifully maintained and fenced in by wrought iron on top of stone. A very traditional look for such an imposing manor. On the path from the street to the house, there's little remarkable, save the knocker on the door. Behind the house, however, if one ventures away, one might get the keen sense of something from inside the house watching, waiting, and hungering. On the ground floor, the locked rooms are mostly unremarkable, save for the study at the back of the house. Linger too long near there, and one might hear a sound coming in a pattering set. It isn't a knock against the door, no. Instead, it is the sound of something hitting the wall. If someone were to force their way into the nursery on the second floor or the attic several stories up... Well. They likely won't be coming back to the party. Or to anything.

Wandering, of course, isn't a suggested enterprise. The old house doesn't like people poking around and trying to find its secrets.


(Everyone who has at least a familiarity with the supernatural is welcome, as the invitations were distributed widely. Mingle, make your own top comments, enjoy the food, etc!)

Comments

[acrookedchild]

1) Arrivals

For the first half hour after the party has 'officially' started, Abigail remains in the front hall, greeting her guests and directing them to either the ballroom or the sitting room to wait for dinner to be served. When it is, her post is given over to a temporary steward to direct latecomers.


2) Dinner

Abby has no proper 'meal.' Instead, she tends to always have a glass of wine and a small plate of little pieces of food. She eats each at a different table to continue socialising and try to make sure each of her guests gets the attention they deserve for having come.


3) Announcement

After dinner, while people mingled and let their food settle, Abigail Widdowson -- dressed in a simple black gown, her blonde hair loose around her pale face -- ascended the main staircase and stood at the railing with a glass of wine in her hand.

"I want to thank you all for coming."

Her mild voice carried with all the weight of her family name behind it. This was what she was born for, to be a public figure. Even if it was absolutely terrifying.

"I invited you all here not only for a night of food, drink, and music but also to make an announcement."

She wanted to take a drink of her wine, wanted to steady herself, but that would betray too many nerves. Instead, she kept going.

"As of today, Enfield is home to a coven for Circle Midnight, one I am personally leading."

Abigail let out a breath she only half realised she'd been holding. It was said. There was no taking it back now. She'd settled on her course and announced it.

"As leader of this coven, I will make Enfield safe for my sisters. I do not intend to displace anyone from their homes or businesses. However, if harm comes to members of Circle Midnight in this district, I will respond. We have no intention to be anyone's enemy, but if they decide to make us one, we will not be pushed out."

It was as much of a threat as she felt was appropriate. She had no desire to remove members of Circle Daybreak from Enfield, but if they lashed out, they would get it returned. So, she raised her glass and forced a small smile.

"Again, thank you all for coming."


4) Sitting room

To say Abigail is nervous after her announcement is an understatement. She's less likely to approach people now, instead ghosting about the house from room to room. She draws no particular attention to herself in the sitting room, save taking the wingback chair that was always her father's favourite. Now isn't her time to be social and seek out conversation. Now, it's time for her to sit back and let others seek her out to express the opinions she's sure they have about her announcement.


5) Ballroom

Another place where she can't escape the words she's said, but Abby still tries to enjoy herself. She might be coaxed into some dancing for the club-like songs, but it will be far easier to ask her to dance during one of the classical songs that lends itself to proper ballroom dancing.

4 - Sitting Room

[looksatkings]

Tybalt attended this party out of idle curiosity for the most part. If nothing else there had been free food, and quite nice food at that. And then there's been the hostess's little announcement. He wondered exactly what she'd hoped to gain by it - announcing the claim was all well and good, but to do so at an event like this was interesting. Not something most did without some other motive. Interesting indeed.

He wove his way through the other attendees with his usual feline grace until he found the hostess. She was sitting in a chair, obviously waiting for those such as himself to approach her. How very fitting. He walked up and gave her a bow. At a party like this, he hadn't bothered with a human glamour, so when he straightened from his bow, the smile he offered Abigail showed the hint of sharp teeth.

"My appreciation for your hospitality. And I suppose congratulations are in order as well, regarding the formation of your coven."

3

[emotioneater]

Cooper is one of those watching at the bottom of the staircase. She looks so poised and confident. Only someone who knows her better, like the vampire, would be able to see the signs of nervousness underneath the elegance. There's a smattering of polite applause after the announcement and several people go up to speak with her.

Cooper waits until there's a free moment to approach her. By way of greeting, he grabs one of her hands and kisses it. It's quite informal and perhaps just a touch scandalous for such a proper setting, which is just what the old vampire is going for. "Congratulations, Abigail. That took a lot of courage."

1

[iceolationqueen]

[OOC: Going with them having known each other at school and were acquaintances but not maybe close friends - like we were going to do on the TDM, if that's ok.]

Elsa is not always the most social person but she would be foolish to turn down an open invite like this, if only to get a glimpse of Geap Manor. She knows Abigail from school, though they were never close. Her attitude towards her is basically neutral, so Elsa is sure that her presence will not be offensive.

She dressed a bit more nicely than she normally does when she goes to school but her hair is still styled in its usual braid. Elsa smiles at Abigail when she meets her at the door.

"Abigail, good to see you. Your house is beautiful."

5

[entitles]

"I'm glad to see you finally coming out of the woodwork," Balem said with a wave of his hand, "Circle Midnight, I mean. I was afraid Daybreak had frightened you off."

Some modern song Balem had never heard of was playing, so for now he was just going to talk.

4

[stauncherhearted]

Well.

Two thin glasses in hand, Nancy approaches Abby.

"I'd say it's going well," she says, holding the champagne flute to her new friend.

4 please!

[megidoomed]

"It'll be dangerous, you know. Daybreak really doesn't like Midnight being around."

Aradia'd heard about the party along the grapevine of the community - secrets tend to find to the dead one way or another, and it'd been easy enough to hitch a ride with another attendee without raising a fuss. Which lead to this. An announcement like that doesn't go unnoticed and she remembers how terrified her coven was of Daybreak retribution, before she'd died.

Curiosity played a part, of course. She dimly remembers the host from a past meeting, and if she's honest about her claims then the two have a cause in common, despite their different statures. So when a lull appears between well-wishers and visitors, it doesn't take long for a flickering ghost to manifest near the fire, fingers worrying creases into her old tattered skirt.

"But you probably know that. It'd be silly if you didn't, and a way bigger risk to announce all this. But you said you wanted people to be safe."

It's almost a question, in between her stilted-deadpan rambling. Whoops.

5

[eyeforaneye]

There's a memory both of the number she'd given him -- one he hadn't been able to force himself to call while in such strained financial straits, something he's recently managed to rectify -- and of past forced dance lessons when he'd been very young as a slower song comes on, attempting to banish both.

"... there's a sense of déjà vu in all of this. We met first after a similar announcement, though Sylvia's words didn't carry as many veiled threats. You actually feel capable of backing them up?"

4

[viduation]

Earlier in the evening, he'd given courteous - by his standards, certainly - greetings to the gracious host. Later, however, he seeks her out, because what she's done today takes courage and there's anxiety in the air. This is where their alliance really begins, Derek thinks, unofficial and unplanned as it had been. At the time, in his car, he'd been thinking only of himself, and of one girl who felt, somewhat, like a kindred spirit. Now, he's had time to consider the implications. He knows it can't be that simple.

And yet, he's not unwilling to proceed. While his early knowledge of Midnight had him as wary as anyone else, his time in London has had him reevaluating. Kenzi - roguish but rock solid - and Daybreak - so tied to the Night Council - and Abigail herself - untested, but willing, bold.

Perhaps he's concerned, not simply from his position as an ally. He finds her in the sitting room, looking elegant and composed, like she was unaware of the risk she's taking. Derek doesn't need wolfish senses to know otherwise.

"Hey," he says, and his tone is low but it's not often that he bothers with anything resembling a real greeting. "Any trouble?"

[brightwitch]

A) DINNER

Sylvia has come here with a small group of witches from her coven. Alexandrie is one of them and she's far more excitable about this event than she ought to be, oohing and aahing at the grand architecture and the fine food. Sylvia, on the other hand, is much less at ease though she doesn't show it. There's dark magic here, she's sure of it, and she doesn't only think that because she knows some of the history of Geap Manor.

Still, they are guests and she knows better than to pry too deeply into the house's nooks and crannies. They sit around a table and sample a variety of the dishes available, talking quietly among themselves.

B) BY THE FIREPLACE

It's just after Abigail's announcement and Sylvia is quietly fuming. Just when she thinks she's gotten rid of one rogue coven, another pops up like a bad smell that won't go away. The fact that Abigail has the audacity to announce this in public sends a very strong message, and it's one that Sylvia won't ignore.

She's standing alone by the fireplace in the sitting room with a glass of wine in hand, looking up at the portrait that hangs above it. She had met Abigail once before, should have read the signs. Now it's too late to stop this before it really begins, so she's going to have to think hard about how to approach the matter.

B

[acrookedchild]

"My family's portrait used to hang there." As if this will be a perfectly normal, perfectly civil conversation. As if she hasn't, in a way, just declared war against the older, much more powerful woman. But every action has a reaction. She won't-- can't stand by when others might get hurt. "Uncle insisted mine be put up instead when I came of age."

It should be a mark of pride, signifying the head of the household. But it only struck her as a testament to being alone in this large place, the whole of the family legacy rested on her shoulders.

B

[iceolationqueen]

[OOC: Let me know if I need to change any of this.]

"Are you alright, Madam?"

Dumb question. Elsa knows she's not alright. Abigail just announced the formation of a rival coven and a territory take over. And not only that, this coven sounds like it will deal with darker forms of magic. Elsa is not a witch, so she has no dog in this fight, but she's a Redbright alumna and staff member. Her loyalty, if asked to choose, would be to Sylvia.

They don't know each other well. Despite being staff, Elsa doesn't deal with the headmistress often. She's probably overstepping her bounds and should probably take herself elsewhere. Elsa decides to at least try to be helpful.

"Can I get you a cup of tea or something?"

B

[entitles]

"My goodness. Someone doesn't look happy today."

Balem had never actually spoken to Sylvia before, but her name and her covens and her school had been enough of a burden on him as of late that he was more than a little amused to see her like this. He was not obviously fae aside from his collar, having worn a proper suit for once because he figured some of the guests would be able to see through glamours, but he had that familiar dreamlike aura the fae often carried.

B

[stauncherhearted]

"Ms. Redbright." Nancy's had a good amount to drink, and can't help but approach the older witch. "Wonderful to see you here!" She means nothing negative by it. It is good to see the inter-mingling between the circles. She had nothing against Redbright personally. She just wanted to have a place where she and her friends wouldn't be persecuted.

"Is that the merlot?" she gestures at the wine in Sylvia's hand.

[constantprisoner]

[Dinner]

[There's no denying that Sirius is a little nervous about being here, especially in his human form, but at the same time he felt he owed it to Abby. After all, he had been mooching off her flat for a few days. It probably would have been worth it to mention that at some point but what could you do? What was life without a little risk after all?

He's managed to find some decent clothes for the event as well, though who can say how, and has made his way to the table in the back with a full plate of food.]

[Sitting Room]

[There was a time when Sirius would have happily been the life of the party, but it's hard when you're doing your best to not cause trouble. It occurs to him that the ballroom is probably a better place to hide in plain sight but he's not really interested in dancing.

Instead, he'll just be admiring the room, taking everything in.]

Dinner

[acrookedchild]

[Abigail has another little plate of food, ready to mingle at another table. It's easy enough, snacking here and there in order to try and sit with everyone. This man is one she doesn't recognize, but she takes a seat at his table without invitation. After all, this is her home.]

Thank you for coming.

[It's only right to say.]

[emotioneater]

1. Dinner

Cooper arrives a few minutes after sunset, fashionably late and once again dressed in a suit that makes him feel uncomfortable. He'd prefer to be wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Alas, appearances must be preserved. The dinner's already been going on a few hours. He picks up a glass of blood and a small plate of hors d'oeuvres. He looks for any table that still has a free seat.

When he spots one, he slides next to you without asking permission. Taking a deep drink of the blood, he fixes his eyes on those sitting at the table. "So, has anything interesting happened?"

2. Ballroom

After getting his fill at the dinner, Cooper makes his way to the ballroom. Now this is what he calls music. He stays against the wall for a few minutes, scanning the crowd to see if there's anyone that he recognizes. He won't be content to stay on the sidelines for long, however. Before too much time has passed, he's out on the dance floor.

3. Stairways

Cooper finds a quiet moment eventually during the event to explore the old house a little. He admires the portraits as he walks, glancing at each one in turn. Eventually, something clicks into his head. He stops at the third generation, staring hard at the woman in the painting. Then he goes onto the next one. Then he retraces his steps to the second generation. Once he realizes what's going on, he mutters to himself.

"Well, that's not creepy at all."

He's not entirely sure what it means, if anything, but he stopped believing in coincidences in the supernatural world quite some time ago.

2

[acrookedchild]

Abigail waits until Cooper's off the dance floor for a bit and approaches, smiling. With him, she can feel more at east. A little more settled. Plus, in a way, it's a relief to have the announcement done with and to have been socializing after it.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, Cooper."

Sitting room or pick your own

[detectiveofthewest]

Heiji didn't usually turn out for fancy parties on his own -- not unless there was a good reason. But this did, in fact, seem like a pretty good reason. So there he was, neatly dressed in suit and tie and more or less minding his manners.

After the dinnertime announcement, he moved to the sitting room, where he took odd sips of wine while waiting for someone interesting he might approach. Of course, there were many different definitions of someone interesting.

[iceolationqueen]

A - Dinner

A free meal is not the only reason Elsa is happy to be here. Of course, being a perpetual student means being perpetually broke so any type of free food is a plus, but she didn't come merely for food. Elsa likes to mingle with the supernatural set, getting a bit of the lay of the land so to speak, catching up with people she hasn't seen for a while.

For her part, she tries not to eat like a starving university kid. She tries just about everything except for the blood - hard pass on that. She turns to one of her tablemates, hoping that they might be a bit more bougie than her.

"Uh.. which wine would you recommend?"


B - Sitting Room

After Abigail's announcement, Elsa is sitting alone nursing a cup of tea that is rapidly growing cold in her hands. She's unsure how to take this. Granted, Elsa is not political. Her aims are mostly scientific - and personal. But the creation of a new coven could introduce chaos into their community.

She has no intent to fight anyone and hopes that it doesn't come to that. Maybe they will be able to strike some kind of peace so that everyone can just be who they are. Though Elsa is not fond of dark magic.

Elsa is pensive but open to being approached.

A

[emotioneater]

Cooper glances at what she's got on her plate. Looks like a little of everything. "Go for something red. A pinot noir or a merlot." He's been around long enough to know the difference between wines. For all his homegrown, down-at-the-pub nature, Cooper can pull out some sophistication when he needs it.

As for himself, he's got a small plate of a few tidbits that he's barely touched, plus a tall glass of a dark-red liquid that is unmistakably blood.

[entitles]

Ballroom //

Balem had shown up to the party dressed in a fine suit that was, for once, not a glamour, which meant his collar was visible. During the modern songs Balem stood back and mingled. Those dances were unfamiliar to him - and from the looks of things he'd like it to remain that way. The classical music, however, was more up his alley and if he found a suitable partner he'd be willing to lead one of those dances. Otherwise, he'd still be around to chat.

May as well get to know some of the more important people in the London community. He was going to be invading their space in a very public way soon, so it was only polite.

Grounds //

Balem much preferred the outdoors, especially after dark. Dinner had already concluded, and he needed some fresh air. He was unnaturally still when he wasn't moving, and when he was his movements were so fluid that they seemed almost ethereal as he walked about the grounds.

He seemed to be in an alright mood, for what it was worth. While he wouldn't call himself overly fond of any witches, the news of the Midnight coven had amused him enough, and he was glad to see those fond of dark magic taking some initiative.

grounds

[stauncherhearted]

"It's you again." Nancy took a few steps down from the porch, her heels clicking on the old stones as she approached him. "I didn't think I'd see many fae at this tonight." She smiled warmly at him, still holding a glass of wine in her hand.

[stauncherhearted]

Dinner

Once more, Nancy could be found with a glass in her hand. A liquid dinner was what she'd planned on tonight, nerves being what they were. She knew her name wasn't being mentioned. Neither was Kenzi's. But tonight was a big night. This would change everything. She'd never cared about politics. But now she was a founding member of a coven with two other women. It was... nerve-wracking.

Honestly, she wasn't even sure her stomach would be able to handle food.

Dancing

A good amount of liquor in her system and Nancy was once again on the dance floor. The music was ever-changing, and she loved the way it kept her on her toes and was- was that just a dubstep remix of Moonlight Sonata?

Sitting Room

Taking a breather, Nancy can be found in the sitting room, resting her feet as she perches on a chaise lounge. Once more, she's got a glass in her hand. Feel free to take a seat and have a chat.

sitting room

[detectiveofthewest]

Heiji sat in an overstuffed chair, glass of wine in one hand. "Well! Imagine seein' you here. Pretty surprising announcement, don't ya think?"

He seemed to be having a good time. Either that, or he was just happy to see a familiar face.

[rules_winter]

1) Ballroom
Mab was not at all familiar with the modern music and she watched people dance to it with a look of puzzled bemusement for some time before a classical piece came on. Finally. She turned to the person next to her and tilted her head in the direction of the dance floor, lifting her hand expectantly. It may be in the look but it seemed as though she believed no was simply not an option. This person will dance with her because it is how things will be. As certain as the sun will rise again tomorrow.

2) Hallway
The Fae Lady moved up the staircase and began to study each portrait, taking note of family resemblances. Where was her young brother, she wondered to herself, mulling it over as her eyes drifted to another portrait. And where was this Fae Abigail Widdowson claimed to have raised her. Smart of him not to be caught in a portrait. Mab could feel something of him, this Unthank, but he was illusive. His power settled around the house like a second skin seamlessly becoming a part of it. She had seen the Sylvia woman finally, from a distance. During Abigail's announcement in fact. Now that had been entertaining, seeing the reaction on the woman's face. This girl who had seemed so frail and terrified when Mab initially met her, showed spirit and defiance that Mab found agreeable. And interesting.

2

[acrookedchild]

"A larger version of this used to hang above the fireplace in the sitting room." Abigail offered the information from the foot of the stair, looking at the portrait of her full family. "But when I came of age, Uncle insisted it be taken down and mine put up."

Sometimes, she had the impulse to take all the portraits down and burn them all. Burn the house, too. Raze it to the ground and salt the earth. But as quickly as the thought came it fluttered away again, and she shook her head at its inconstancy.

sitting room | ota

[damnyank]

Jackson had a purpose in coming here, but whatever it was, it's lost in the final sips of his last drink. Something about coming here to survey the magical make-up of this city. A chance to get a better sense of what he's dealing with supernaturally, now that his policy of isolation's been rendered defunct, 'cause once you're in you're in.

He's a peculiar fella. Greasy hair, old cigarette smoke sticking to his skin, a 7 'o clock shadow darkening his cheeks, and yet, Captain Homer Jackson is a sartorial success in his patterned dress shirt, vest and green suit jacket, as if he were plucked out from another time. And if that doesn't call attention to you, then it's the fact that Jackson's staring at your character-- watching them pass by as he plays that game of guess what he or she is. His face seems permanently fixed in a look that's somewhere between judgmental and skeptical.

Or perhaps you catch Jackson as he approaches the drink cart in the center of the room. He's reaching over to take a glass of whiskey from the tray, but the tips of his fingers pause against the rim of a blood-filled cup. A beat. Jackson appears to be considering something, before not-so-absentmindedly, tipping the glass over.

What? He's petty and petulant, and really, vampires? Who invited them? They were like flies; always another one of them, wherever you looked. Hopefully, none of them will look at him and recognize that wanted face.

Pulling a cigarette from his back pocket, Jackson lights it with a spell-- and for that moment, he admits that it feels good to be free to cast magic. He takes a long drag, not expect anyone to address him.

[falsify]

Eames has been eyeing the drinks cart, debating on whether or not to get another - not that he's worried about getting drunk and making a tit of himself, but some people find it unseemly for someone to be putting that much away - so it's hard to miss when Jackson tips over the glass of blood.

He laughs at that, finally electing to pour himself another glass of wine, and raises an eyebrow at the mess on the tray. "Not quite your taste, I take it?"

[kleptofaeniac]

1. Arrivals

If you asked her, Kenzi would say she only showed up so she could dress up. And really, who wouldn't believe her? She's dressed up plenty. However, it was all - in her mind - a clever ruse. She wasn't quite ready to be out of the broom closet. Even if this was a party for just that. Abigail said that she and Nancy didn't have to go public if they didn't want to. Kenzi would hold her to that.

2. Dinner

Kenzi is enjoying herself. As much as she can be. The people she's sat next to are impossible not to listen to as they talk and she might be caught sniggering into her champagne at something they've (or you) said. Decorum is not her friend.

3. Ballroom

Kenzi isn't dancing. Not unless she's asked and only if her partner has some skill, of course. She can say without any shred of shame that she is a marvelous dancer and to pair off with anyone for these less synth'y songs who can't do more than a two step wouldn't be fun. Or fair. The club songs however, got her rolling her hips and laughing with delight.

She might be drunk.

4. Grounds

This house is wrong.

That might be the champagne, wine, cocktails and vodka infused tea talking, but Kenzi can't shake the fact that she can feel in her bones that something is wrong with this place. She bites her tongue to keep herself from chanting protection spells and crosses her arms against her chest to stop from rubbing the talismans she has that are disguised as bracelets and rings. She's gone to the gardens behind the house and is absolutely refusing to turn around and look at the windows on the second and third floors because she can feel someone - something? - watching her.

It's nighttime...but she could swear she hears the faint sound of bees droning around flowers. And jasmine. For some reason she smells jasmine.

Two totally innocuous things are adding up to be entirely too creepy.

1

[acrookedchild]

"Welcome."

It's polite, a little restrained. But, after all, this woman is supposed to be a relative stranger. So, she offers her hand in greeting to the other. However, there is just a little smile for Kenzi.

[whatmatters]

1 DINNER

Ringer selects a fairly conservative meal, with a modest amount of fish, vegetable, and a couple samples of the other food. As if her appetite wasn't already suffering enough at the mere idea of being in a place so overwhelmed with the supernatural, she comes to the source of blood for the vampires. It's only her manners that prevent her from throwing her plate away entirely as she frowns at the 'food' in disgust, oblivious to others that might be watching until one cuts directly in front of her.

2 BALLROOM

Dancing tends to be one of two things in Ringer's experience: archaic or overly sexualized. That's not to say she's against it. As a young teenager, she took lessons on many of the classical dances as an excuse to avoid being home any more than necessary. They came easy to her now, unlike the gyrating and twerking of the modern age. Still, she wasn't one to reach out much and instead enjoyed the spectacle, standing along the wall and watching the various couples twirl about the floor. It made for a beautiful scene.

3 STAIRWAYS

Where there's a will, there's a way. That's Ringer's philosophy as she makes her way up the stairs, admiring the portraits. The pictures tell a great deal about not only the master of the house, but of the eras in general and the type of people she might normally associate with. People that aren't Ringer. The girl surprised herself by accepting the invitation, generally being against parties. If not for the wealth of information the party provides - who's who, what they eat, what they do - she wouldn't have come at all. But that doesn't mean she can't be social.

When she catches sight of the new arrival in the large and mostly empty hall, she glances their way. "I don't understand the desire to be immortalized in paintings. Or photos."

1

[acrookedchild]

There's always a risk involved when vampires and mortals are in the same vicinity. Worse still when hunters might have taken her up on her invitation. Even with the promise of no hostilities... Well. Abby is idealistic, not completely naive. So, she's on the lookout for anyone who might disturb the precarious peace here.

And someone staring at the glasses of blood? Counts.

"Good evening. I'm glad you could come." Simple, polite, warm. A way to walk in and divert attention. "I'm Abigail. I don't believe we've met yet."

[mensrea]

A) Arrival—OTA

Naturally, Stiles has managed to procure an invitation for himself. Unlike the ball at the Redbright Institute, this party doesn’t seem to demand as formal an attire. So when he steps inside the manor at approximately 19:00 with Malia, Stiles is dressed smart yet bold. There’s more confidence in how he arrives tonight than how he did over a month ago; someone has been making a niche for himself in the Underground.

If you’re already acquainted with him, maybe you simply waltz right up to Stiles and greet him. If you’re not acquainted, maybe he simply bumps right into you while avoiding a server with a tray of glassed blood. In the case of the latter, he reaches out to steady you with a hand. “Sorry about that.”

B) Dinner—Closed to Derek & Malia

Come dinner, Stiles finds himself seated at a table with two members of the East End Pack. If the wide, panicked look in his eyes is anything to go by, he’d rather be anywhere else. Of course, his anxiety will undoubtedly be picked up by both his companions…the knowledge of which only makes him more uncomfortable. God, he needs to relax. If not for his own sanity, then for the sake of his shirt; it was way too expensive for him to keep sweating like this.

“Sooooo,” he begins, awkward. “You’re…cousins.”

How the hell is he only just now finding this out!? Pushing around the food on his plate, he glances between Malia and Derek. He supposes he can see a family resemblance, but not enough for him to have made the connection without being told.

C) Post-Announcement—OTA

The low, hushed commotion that follows in the wake of Abigail’s announcement has him seeking sanctuary elsewhere. Ducking into the sitting room, Stiles makes a beeline for the drink cart; his hand hovers indecisively over a flute of wine before ultimately grabbing a water. Best not to have a repeat of his near alcohol poisoning experience at the Redbright Institute ball. And he really needs a clear head right now. The water is placed on a windowsill as he draws out his phone and scrolls through old text messages.

A shudder wracks his frame. He doesn’t believe in coincidences—the person he texted about helping dark witches must have been Abigail. Which leads to some very unpleasant questions. Stiles is so absorbed in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear the person who approaches until the last second.

“Oh my god!” he shrieks, fumbling the phone. It goes straight into his glass of water. “No. No, no, no, no! Shit.”

D) Investigating Geap Manor—OTA

He needs more information. More information on Abigail’s family, on the curse that will kill her in just a few short years, on the fae she is contacted with. Sneaking as inconspicuously as a 5’11” tall teenager in a bright red waistcoat can manage, he begins to poke around. Most of the doors are locked, and he’s without the tools to break in. Maybe you spot him with an ear pressed against a wall, or his hand rattling a stubborn doorknob noisily, or creeping upstairs.

F) Wildcard

( If none of these prompts suit you, just PM me to work something out or wing it! )

D

[kleptofaeniac]

Kenzi isn't one to mind her own business. At all. As it is, she's been spooked to death just by wandering outside in the garden. Which clearly meant she had to do more snooping throughout the rest of the house. She was getting into bed with this girl, Kenzi figured that meant it was a-okay for her to be snooping.

She was actually a little happy to see Stiles doing the same. At least if she got caught she could blame it on him. She wasn't really sure what he was trying to d - okay that was a lie, she knew exactly what he was trying to do. But rattling a doorknob wasn't going to open jackshit.

"Hey, Hardy Boy whatcha doin'?"

Lucky for him, she had a set of picks on her wherever she went.