undergrounds | 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 The lights are off, the desks and chairs have been replaced by beanbags and there's a table in the corner with a chocolate fountain, marshmallows and strawberries.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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Wow, that's a particularly crude name to be throwing about. And how very, very incorrect. Sympathetic humans are rare, but it just means they've already been corrupted. Everything said is immediately twist, incorrect, wrong.

"If that's your world, then perhaps you should be removed with it."

It's the same voice, but the tone is completely different. A brittle frozen caricature of life, an unfathomable monster now standing on the opposite side of Stiles' sad closet door. Such a brittle defense it is. It should be no difficulty at all to just fix another problem here before anyone notices-

Wait, no. That's not right. He's just a dumb kid. There's no reason to hurt him. But he's the wrong one here, so very wrong, trying to corrupt other thoughts with his own sinful mindset. Nothing about your logic is faulty here, so just dispose of it. He sounds logical, but he's not, but the incessant ringing will help to ignore the discrepancy. No, even better, just forget it. So easily sweeping away such irrelevant concerns to us, just like

this

And right around the end of Stiles' short speech is when that weird presence seems to flicker and die off. Inhale, exhale, no errors in the system, resume. Were there errors in the first place? Why is he in front of a closet? Why is he being threatened with Mr. Rodgers by some dude in a closet? Why is there some dude in a closet?

Wait, no, forget that last part, the being threatened with feel-good musicals is the heresy here.

And the tone is back to the acceptable deadpan, like nothing ever even happened. Because it didn't. "Please don't."

Wow, okay, Stiles is totally dead. This is it. He is going to die in a cheap rental tux, holed up in some godforsaken closet at a witch cult party. His life flashes before his eyes. A virgin, he’s gonna die a virgin. Not just a virgin, though—he’s never even gotten to second base. Life is so cruel. To add insult to injury, he won’t be able to beat Call of Duty: Black Ops III if he’s dead. That’s just the worst. That’s just sick. What has he done to deserve such a fate.

Reaching out with a trembling hand, he grasps the door handle, plants his feet, and puts all his frail strength into trying to keep the closet shut. If Will can’t get in, he’ll be okay. So what if the guy can probably rip the door right out of the frame? This is like Stiles’ last security blanket; a cold comfort to reassure him things will be alright, he’ll make it through this.

“Th-then you just shut up, yeah?” The quiver in his voice is not very threatening. “Or else I’m going to haunt you and talk about friendship and unconditional love and warm fuzzy feelings 24/7. Don't test me, dude. I'll...I'll do it.”

Okay. That's... concerning. What's he so scared of? The only person here is Stiles and himself so, and that fear is so strong it completely mutes the rest of the world into ringing silence and dead greys. The sensation itself is not surprising - it's entirely familar as breathing, a fond memory and hated friend - but this is not the time or place for that kind of reverbration.

It's concerning for the exact amount it takes for you to stop being concerned, and the blank spots are disposed as commonplace.

Stiles doesn't get responded to immediately, and when he does the voice is with that idle daze that comes with sleeping too long or trying to remember something just outside of memory, with a few shades of Trash Boston Accent. Weird and distracting, but not much to be concerned over.

"Yeaaah, but I've enough salt t'handle that." That does not make the waves stop, and ending them the usual way isn't an option. Deep sigh, pack up the accent and put on the apathy, resume. "I'm not going to kill you. So you shut up."

Unfortunately, Stiles’ good opinion of the man who kept him company that day by the storm drain has now—pun intended—been flushed down the toilet. He doesn’t miss the dramatic shift in Will’s presence, but doesn’t know what it means. The obvious conclusion is that the guy must be a werewolf; and if he is, then maybe that explains the temper. Licking his lips, Stiles doesn’t say anything for a near minute.

“This is a really bad joke,” he remarks lamely, laughing a bit. The sound is weak. “All I wanted was a drink. If I come out of the closet—” Ha. “—can you promise me you’re not gonna go all American Psycho on me?”

That's a terrible pun and everyone who reads it should feel a bit less worthy of living. More importantly, a minute is a long time. If you sit and count the seconds, it has far more weight than people give it. He's been off the closet door for half of the minute, leaning on the opposite wall for the rest. Part wants to just leave while Stiles is silent. A smaller part wants to stay and make sure he doesn't tell anyone, the assignment is to observe and act if necessary, getting involved with Redbright or Sylvia or anyone of that level is a bad idea.

But the kid he spoke to was a bit scatterbrained, highly annoying, and not that terrible of a person. No one should have to experience that level of horror unless it's deserved, unless it ends just as quickly when equalized - irritating and mistake-prone does not make someone guilty. It takes mentally repeating that a few times to get it to stick, and even if he's the source of that fear, leaving Stiles alone might be worse.

He thinks. Sincerity is so difficult to manage sometimes, it should've been passed to someone better. Someone who could use it without winging it entirely on intuition and silent prayers.

"You're underage." A beat here, the joke about sexuality somewhat registered and immediately tossed as 'who cares'. Then the voice is a bit more flat, "And we both know that's not why you're here."

“Uh, duh. I’m here because you tossed me in like a sack of potatoes!”

Stiles’ mouth so often lands him ass-deep in trouble, and he cringes at himself now as soon as the words are blurted out unthinkingly. Though he hates thinking about it, he needs to remember that Scott isn’t around to save his neck—a neck that this guy might break, if he keeps hedging through the conversation. Still, he’s uncomfortable with the implications. There’s no way Will could know the real reason he’s attended the party. Even Nancy, whom he has spoken the most to, can only take an educated guess. What if Will has been watching him? Stiles tries to remember if he ever gave out his age…and thinks he may have, so there’s that, at least.

“I was invited by a friend. And being underaged seriously means squat, dude.”

Game Opening: May Ball

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject