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 The lights are off, the desks and chairs have been replaced by beanbags and there's a table in the corner with a chocolate fountain, marshmallows and strawberries.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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"So? Take it as a compliment. At least you don't have any of these, yet," he offers, scrunching up his face a bit. Clint has some very prominent crow's feet, which he points out at the corners of his eyes. He's not bothered by them; at least they're associated with smiling. There are worse wrinkles to have.

That revelation doesn't shock him, because he's heard such things about both vampires and fae, even if he's met very few of the latter, and none of the vampires he's hunted have ever been that old. "Oh yeah? I'm from Iowa, in the States. Not as many fae there as you've got over here."

"And I never will. That's the trade-off. Getting carded anytime I go to a bar in exchange for never getting a gray hair." He can't complain too much about having eternal youth. It's something most people would kill for and the benefits do tend to outweigh the disadvantages.

"Just look around the room. I'm sure you'll find a few right here." Though it's not like Cooper would know. He's pretty unobservant when it comes to seeing through magical glamours and the like. "How'd somebody from the Hawkeye State end up all the way across the pond?"

"You're a lucky one. I've been dying my hair since I turned thirty. Bad genes. My brother had gray hair in high school." Now Clint's just making shit up. To be honest, his brother would probably punch him if he were here.

To appear authentic, he does actually glance around when he's prompted to do so. There are a lot of too-young-looking people here, who he had definitely noticed before. He feels like he's one of the oldest people here, relatively speaking.

"I'm just looking for somebody," he says with a shrug. "Heard this might be a good place to pick up the trail."

"Sounds suitably vague and mysterious." Cooper refrains from rolling his eyes just barely, seemingly completely unimpressed with that non-answer of an answer. He doesn't expect someone to give him their life story upon first meeting, but candid answers would be helpful. He swipes a fancy hors d'oeuvres from a nearby table before he asks a question, speaking around a mouthful of food.

"So what're you then? Straight-up human?" He's ruled out fae, ghost, and of course vampire. Werewolf and shapeshifter seems unlikely, so that leaves meta human or regular human.

"Kinda goes with the territory, doesn't it?" Hiding away from the human world and living in the shadows or whatever. Clint seems amused by his own question, and takes a couple of deep swigs of his pint. He's likewise pretty sure that he's got this guy pegged as a vampire. Cooper's comment about fae mostly ruled that out as an option, and a mortal being wouldn't appear as ageless. Of course, some kind of glamor could be in place, and Clint wouldn't know the difference. It's hard to be one-hundred percent sure, because it's not like he can use his normal testing methods in a neutral-zone like this.

"Straight up, boring old human. Sorry."

One point to Cooper for guessing right (for once.) "Don't be. With all the weirdos taking up space in this city, we could use a few more boring humans." He's tempted to add on 'for lunch' at the end of that sentence, but he doubts that Clint will find that nearly as funny as he does. The vampire has got a weird sense of humor even at the best of times.

Normal human means the two most likely options is that he's either with the Redbright Institute as a teacher or a hunter. "So do you have a name or should I just make one up for you?"

"Supernaturals are definitely more compact here, than what I'm used to. The populations's pretty sprawling back home." In his territory, anyways. There's naturally a higher concentration of people in general in cities, but he's never really seen a turf war like this.

Yeah, Clint probably wouldn't have the best reaction to being referred to as lunch, considering the last time a vampire managed to bite him, they nearly drained him to death and ended up killing his wife and children. Don't do it, Cooper.

"Name's Barton."

"It all depends on where you go. I know of one town near Lake Michigan that's about the size of Mayberry, but the supernaturals almost equal the number of locals." He speaks of the town with a certain wistful air. He stills misses Pemkowet terribly sometimes. Still, London has its own charms to it, and it had been about time to move on anyway. He never stayed too long in one place. Teenagers that never aged got more attention than adults.

He files the name away, making a note to ask around about him. Gossip should fill in any missing blanks after "Cooper." He holds his hand out to shake almost like a challenge, wondering if Barton will take it.

"Yeah, it's different everywhere," he agrees, waving a hand first dismissively, but then circling it around to indicate their surroundings. "A place as old as London is more likely to attract this stuff. I've never seen anything like the Night Council, before." The way he says it is decidedly cautious, because despite the fact that Clint is not personally fond of the concept of a governing body offering protection to supernatural creatures, he's very aware of his surroundings.

With a nod, he shakes Cooper's hand without hesitation. "So, if I'm a plain old human, what does that make you, Cooper?" Though Clint can guess, at this point. Either the kid's a vampire, or he's got naturally cold, clammy hands.

"I think you already figured that one out." Then he smiles, punctuating the remark by extending his fangs out. He only keeps them out for a moment before retracting them back, leaving his seemingly innocent-looking teenage face no different than before. Only his eyes give any real clue to his actual age. When the mask slips, as it just has, one gets a glimpse of a very old, bitter old man trapped inside.

"I'll wager a guess now's the part where you make some excuse t'be across the room and talking to someone a little more alive." Cooper has no illusions about what most normal humans think of vampires.

To his own credit, Clint doesn't even flinch when Cooper's fangs come out. Maybe he should, just to keep up the act of not really knowing much about all of this. But he doesn't bother. What would be the point, when he's already not reacted, and it would be belated? The hesitation would definitely be noticeable to a vampire. Maybe he's thinking way too hard about it. "I guess I did."

Instead of running away, Clint just continues to drink his beer. His eyebrows rise as he comments, "You look plenty alive to me."

Cooper seems pleased that Clint decides to stay. He wouldn't have thought much of the man if he had turned tail and ran at the first sight of sharp fangs. He takes another bit of food off a nearby tray, finishing it off in one bite. "Technically, I'm undead. Though I did have the most interesting conversation earlier about how the term is a misnomer."

Clint might have no love for vampires, and view the no-killing-them rule that the Night Council has in place as completely absurd, but he's definitely going to take advantage of the opportunity to chat. He can't hunt here, but Cooper can't attack him, either.

He snatches a couple bits of the same food and chews as he speaks. Sorry about his manners. "You feed, you bleed. Never really understood the distinction, myself."

"Figured it always had something t'do with living off of human blood 'n immortality. Combine the two of 'em and you get someone who's undead." He shrugs one shoulder, watching Clint chew his food with a little bit of distaste. He can't comment on it. He's done the same thing before.

"So are you a teacher or a hunter then?" Judging from his reaction when Cooper had bared his fangs, he was guessing the latter.

"I guess that makes sense. When I think undead, though, I always think zombie. 'Least they look the part. I can't tell with you guys, sometimes." He pauses to poke at something stuck in his teeth before adding, "Not that zombies are a thing? I've never seen one, anyways."

Folding his arms in front of him on the bar, Clint shrugs. "You already said it: I'm a straight-up human hanging out in a magic school. What the hell would I be teaching here?"

"If they are, I've never seen one either. Think they're firmly in the realm of Night of the Living Dead." There were some things in the world just so fantastical that they had to be fiction. If not, the zombie apocalypse was probably just around the corner and then they all wouldn't have to worry about factions or politics ever again.

"I dunno. Maybe you're one of those professors that just sticks around because he likes to get under the student's skirts." Cooper should teach a class at Redbright: how to win friends, influence people, and then piss them off all in the same conversation.

"Eh.. good. Sometimes witches surprise me with some of the magic they can cook up." And that's not even mentioning what fae can do, because he's pretty inexperienced with them, but he's heard stories, man. At one time in his life, he would have though a zombie apocalypse to be the epitome of cool. Now he knows better.

Clint's brows draw together as he turns on Cooper for that comment. "How the fuck did you draw that conclusion? Of course I'm not a teacher, dumbass!" You're the eternal teenager, buddy. If anybody wanted to mess around with underage girls, Clint bets it would totally be you.

"I dunno. You're old and you got the look of someone who's ended up on a sexual predator registry at least once in their life." He deliberately raises an eyebrow and gives a smirk designed to get under Clint's skin. Now he's just having fun messing with the hunter's head.

"You're the immortal creeper, pal! Plus you've got the..." He waggles his fingers in front of his own eyes. "Mind control eyes, or whatever. You could make a kid do whatever you wanted! So don't go calling me the predator."

Cooper's efforts are working flawlessly. Clint is so mad. A vampire has never accused him of being the bad guy, before. What is even going on?

Cooper is tempted to correct him that technically he needs someone's blood to pull a mind control whammy on people, but he doubts Clint is in a listening mood any longer. It's fun playing the hunter like a fiddle. "Y'know, you keep saying all that, but I don't hear any actual denial coming from you. Anything you want to share with the class, old man?"

He slams his hand down on the surface of the table, drawing stares from the people around them. Oh my god, he is so mad he might just end up causing a scene here if he's pushed too far. How can any kind of governing body willingly protect these guys, seriously? (Not that this kind of taunting is strictly limited to vampires, because humans can be creepy assholes too, but who cares.)

"No! I don't have anything to hide. How about you start talking about all the dirty deeds you've done, kiddo? Bet you've got a laundry list."

Cooper getting just the reaction he wanted out of Clint. He leans up against the table, arms crossed. "Oh, I do. I've killed everything that's walked or crawled on this earth at one point or another. The difference between me and you is that I'm honest that I'm a monster. You may like to get all sanctimonious about this, but consider this--"

He points a finger in Clint's direction, almost but not quite touching his chest. "--how many have you killed?"

"I couldn't give you a count, there, to be honest," he bites out; staring at Cooper's finger as it invades his personal space. In his work with SHIELD, Clint was often assigned to live war zones on high security protection detail. He's blown up nests of terrorists, without actually being fully aware of the body count. He's not proud of it. It was his job.

"But you know what? Ever since I started killing shits like you, I've at least been able to sleep better at night."

Cooper's eyes flash with anger as Clint brags about killing vampires. It's a good thing they're in a neutral zone right now, otherwise, Cooper would have no compunctions about making Clint eat the nearest curb.

"There you have it. We're a pair of killers, you and I. The difference is that in twenty years, I'll still be around t'do as I please and feed off of whom I like. But you? Give it a couple more years, old man, and you'll be hunting someone just a little too young and smart for you to handle. Then you'll get taken down just like that." Cooper pokes Clint in the chest hard.

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Game Opening: May Ball

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