undergrounds | Game Opening: May Ball

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Game Opening: May Ball

LET'S GET THIS PARTY STARTED.

It had to be done.

Welcome all to the Redbright Institute's May Ball! This evening is a celebration of the Institute's achievements over the past year. Students aged 16 and above can attend on their own, while younger students must be accompanied by a parent or guardian. Meanwhile, friends and guests of the Institute are invited as a gesture of friendship and harmony between the various factions.

Rules and etiquette
• This is a black tie event. Formal attire is required.
• No weapons. This is a school, there are children present. Any weapons or objects that could be used as weapons will be confiscated.
• No drugs or alcohol. Obviously. Don't try to sneak any in.
• No violence.

There is security within the school and present at the event. (In fact, if your character is a member of the Redbright Institute, you could have them acting as security if you want.) They will respond to and put a stop to any trouble.

Places to go
The main action takes place in the large Assembly Hall. This is where the Chancellor Sylvia Redbright will give her address. It's also where you can party later on. The disco is family-friendly – not exactly a rave, but the kids will love it.

Drinks and snacks are available in the dining hall. The drinks are non-alcoholic. Vampires, no need to worry about your cravings: blood cocktails are provided! They're given in good faith on the assumption that you won't be snacking on anyone else tonight.

Just off the dining hall, one of the classrooms has been converted into a chill-out area. The lights are off, the desks and chairs have been replaced by beanbags and there's a table in the corner with a chocolate fountain, marshmallows and strawberries. A video of young witches taking part in various night-time rituals (they mostly seem to involve chanting and bonfires) plays silently on the screen.

One of the lecture theatres has been opened up to showcase students' work from the past year. On the screen you can watch a slideshow of notable events and achievements. Strangely enough there aren't many people in this room.

Outside, there is a giant chessboard on the lawn. The pieces are made of plastic and can easily be moved around. Why, you ask? Why not, is the answer.

Finally, a large marquee has been set up in the quad. This is the adults-only area, with wine and cocktails served at the bar, nibbles available at a few high tables dotted around and a sophisticated atmosphere. No children under 18 allowed. (Note that the legal drinking age is 18.)

Timeline of events
20:00 – Doors open.
20:57 – Sunset.
21:15 – Sylvia Redbright makes her address in the Assembly Hall.
22:00 – Disco in the Assembly Hall. The DJ has atrocious taste.
01:00 – Disco stops. The event officially ends.

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Relieved that he hasn't managed to piss off someone (for once), he heaves a huge sigh in response to the question before shooting the DJ a murderous look.

"Yeah, but I was hoping for something like...Kesha."

"Oh no. You're one of those." Those being people who don't know the good classics from the bad pop music. Cooper says this sympathetically, like Stiles told him he has a terminal disease. "You need a musical reeducation, kiddo. Kesha equals bad. Crosby, Stills, and Nash equals good."

Wow, in an amazing turn of events, Stiles—the guy who has been flinging around "you're one of them" at basically every supernatural tonight—has been designated as "one of those." Whatever that means. He starts to look offended, purely on principle, before understanding what he's being accused of (albeit sympathetically).

"Well, duh, but she's easy to dance to. And I've never heard of those other bands."

Sorry Cooper. Stiles genuinely thinks that Crosby, Stills & Nash is three separate musical artists.

That lack of knowledge on Stiles' part actually gets Cooper to stop dead in his tracks due to the shock. He clutches his chest like he's about to have a heart attack. Oh, that's pathetic. "Nope. This is unacceptable. You've been brainwashed like so many others into accepting that any music brought out before 2000 is irrelevant."

He fails to take into account that not everyone has the luxury of being able to live through multiple decades unaging, which will give anyone a much better understanding of culture than one typical teenager.

"I was only a toddler then! Music didn't even exist to me at that point."

And pre-2000 music continues to not exist, except for the teenager-approved classics like Nirvana, of course. But despite his protests, Stiles isn't feeling particularly defensive; Cooper's dramatics are amusing and likable.

"That's no excuse! I know for a fact they play oldies music stations in America. Granted, their definition of oldies tends to go back no further than 1985, but still, it's better than nothing." He's on a proper rant now. This could last the rest of the night if he gets going properly. "The problem with this generation is that it is obsessed with the now and forgets to look back on what came before it. You all sit there being absorbed by sixteen different forms of technology without ever once thinking of the past. This will be your downfall one day when the zombie apocalypse comes and you all have no idea how to survive in the barren wasteland that will result from your carelessness."

....he's going somewhere with this. He just has no idea where that somewhere is.

Stiles is not entirely sure how zombies came into the equation, but he is totally all for it. Expression lighting up, he looks around before leaning in to whisper conspiratorially.

"Do...do zombies really exist!? Dude!"

Yeah, that's pretty much all he got out of your rant, Cooper. Sorry, pal.

Sigh. This is what he gets for trying to make sense out of a nonsensical situation. Stiles is close enough to get into possible neck-chomping territory, which isn't good for either of them. Cooper has good self-control since he's already eaten earlier in the evening, but there's nothing like fresh blood to tempt him.

Stiles can't hear the sound of Cooper's teeth grinding together over the music as he debates how much trouble he'd get in for chomping on a clueless teen at an event like this. "Sorry to say, no zombies. The only undead you'll find around these parts are vampires."

Far from deterred, Stiles blithely latches on to this new conversational topic. While he has encountered several species of the supernaturally-inclined in Beacon Hills, vampires had never been one of them. Living in the Underground has enlightened him to their existence, but he’s still yet to meet one in person—that he knows of.

“Are they really undead though? I mean, how does that even work. If their hearts have stopped, are they just like…animated corpses? Or if their hearts work, why are they even considered undead?”

These questions are probably insensitive, especially considering his audience. Stiles remains clueless, as usual.

If Cooper is at all insulted by the questions, it doesn't show on his face. Does he think Stiles is being a bit of a moron? Yes. But he can tell the difference between someone being innocently insensitive and just being a douchebag. Cooper would never have gotten anywhere in life if he hadn't learned how to be patient. "Outwardly, they're no different from regular human beings. Heartbeat, reflection, the whole nine yards. You could be standing right next to one 'n never notice unless you try to drag them into the sunlight." Was that too obvious a hint? Maybe.

He does have a point about the whole nomenclature of the term undead. "I think the undead label has more t'do with requiring the blood of the living to survive than actually being truly dead. It's a way to remind people that they are facing something that doesn't fall into the nice neat categories most creatures do."

There’s never too obvious of a hint when dealing with a teenage boy who suffers from ADHD. Stiles can make impressive leaps in logic to piece together clues, but Cooper is so far from what he’d expect a vampire to look like that it doesn’t even occur to him to suspect the other boy. Frowning pensively, he considers the information he’s been given. It seems kind of sad to him, really, that vampires are outcasts even in the supernatural community. Then again, he’s hesitant to feel too much pity—it’s probably not without reason vampires are considered “inhuman” and “undead.”

“The way you worded that… ‘Facing something,’ like most encounters with vampires are hostile ones. Is that true?”

Stiles only knows that the vampires do not get along with werewolves.

"If the only way you could survive was sucking blood, most people aren't just gonna let you sit there and do it. Kill enough people just trying t'live and the first reaction someone has when faced with one is to pull out the torches 'n stakes." He sounds a little testy, speaking from all-too-familiar personal experience now. A lifetime spent gaining control only to lose it again had cost Cooper dearly. Relationships that weren't with other supernatural beings were nearly impossible. It was human he had been and human the company he still craved, even after all this time.

He feels he shouldn't color the views of the inquisitive teenager too badly. "But not all are going to rip your throat out at first meeting. Most are perfectly normal folks so long as they're well-fed."

Stiles is approaching the matter armed with the only comparable species he has information on: werewolves. Once a month, a werewolf loses all control and goes on a bloody killing spree if preparations aren't taken beforehand. That doesn't even include all the smaller incidents involving their legendary tempers. So he doesn't get why vampires have a much worse rep than werewolves. Maybe it's because vampires are more alienated emotionally from humans? Even though a werewolf turns all fuzzy on the full moon, they're still human at their core.

"Ha, same here. Don't come near me with a ten foot pole when I'm hungry, though."

Yes, Stiles. Very funny. You're a comedian.

"So, what are you, a witch?" Wrong.

Cooper doesn't laugh. Sure, it's funny to someone on the outside looking in. Not so much when he deals with the hungry beast within on a daily basis. He smiles in an enigmatic way at Stiles. "Nope. I'm just someone who knows a little about a lot of things." It's not technically a lie, just a stretching of the truth.

He continues on before Stiles' can properly ask again, hoping to distract the teen. "We never got properly introduced. My name's Cooper."

The enigmatic smile just comes off as a tad bit creepy to Stiles, but he willfully attributes that to the dim lighting on the dance floor more than anything. He’s a naturally suspicious kid, but he doesn’t want to go jumping to conclusions about anyone here—not until he’s more confident of his place in the community, at least.

“Cooper. Cool. You can call me Stiles.”

Definitely not his real name. Either way, he doesn’t pursue the line of questioning about Cooper’s species. Yet.

"Stiles?" Cooper knows it would be impolite to laugh at the kid's name, but he can't help the smile that creeps across his face. "That's not a name. That sounds like a major kitchen appliance."

Is it too soon to start making fun of Stiles when he's only just met him? Nope. Not at all. And it's another good way to keep him distracted from the question of just what Cooper is supposed to be.

No offense is taken, however. In fact, Stiles even cracks a strained grin in response to the remark, because—

"Trust me, dude. It's better than my birth name. You wouldn't be able to pronounce it."

Please don't ask, Cooper. It's a mouthful. Like, moreso than even a vampire might be accustomed to. (Ha.)

Cooper raises an eyebrow. He's been around for two centuries and some spare change. There isn't that much that can surprise him anymore, least of all someone's name. "Oh really? Try me." Well, thank goodness he seems to have fully deflected the topic of what kind of supernatural being he is for the moment.

"Nope. The only people allowed to use it are my grandparents. And that's because I can barely communicate with them to knock it off."

Cooper has absolutely deflected the big question, at least for the time being. Stiles is thoroughly distracted, and more than willing to believe that his newest acquaintance is human like he is.

"Plus, I could do without the mockery."

"Mockery is what toughens you up. Otherwise, you'll be weak. If you're weak, you won't survive the long, cold winter." Cooper tries to look dead serious as as he says this, though the corner of his mouth attempting to curl upwards gives him away. Taking stock of Stiles, the teenager looks like a twitchy noodle. Definitely not high on the survival of the fittest list.

"In that case, I could probably bench press you with how toughened up I must be. Wanna give it a go?"

And Stiles' mouth quirks as well, an infectious grin that lights up his whole face.

"Though, I'm not gonna lie... I'm California born and raised. I probably won't survive the winter either way."

"Think I'll pass on that challenge, tough guy."

He claps a friendly hand on Stiles' shoulder. For someone as scrawny as Cooper appears to be, he packs quite a solid wallop. Of course the kid would be from California. He talked a mile a minute and had used dude about five times already.

"You'll be just fine. This isn't Russia. You won't freeze t'death unless you piss off an angry winter fae."

The friendly physical contact is actually welcome, though on an unconscious level Stiles is unaware of. He's had over a decade to become very accustomed to small, affectionate touches from Scott. These past many weeks, he's had to go without. It's weird, maybe, but Cooper helps make him feel more at home. Even if the clap is a bit heavy. Wow. Maybe the guy is a werewolf. Or secretly a bodybuilder.

"Do those actually exist?" Eyes widening, he glances around as if such a person might appear any second. "Like, I know fae do. But is there one designated specifically for winter? That's so cool."

"Yeah, some fae have a theme. I dunno why, it's just their thing. Stick around, kiddo, and we'll have you being able to tell a shapeshifter from a Seelie far within a month or two." Just don't ask Cooper to be the one to teach him. He's terrible with telling creatures apart. Even after two hundred years, all he can really identify on sight are vampires and occasionally werewolves.

"Oh, I plan on sticking. Like Elmer glue. Y'know, the kind that you used when working on crafts as a kid and then accidentally glued your fingers together and had to peel it all off? Yeah. That sorta sticking."

He means it.

"So I guess I'll see you around, Cooper?"

At least, Stiles hopes so. So far, he likes the other boy.

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emotioneater - 2015-06-10 04:05 (UTC) - Expand

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