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 The lights are off, the desks and chairs have been replaced by beanbags and there's a table in the corner with a chocolate fountain, marshmallows and strawberries.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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[ that leads to Derek treating Stiles to a particularly theatrical roll of his eyes, but Stiles holds his ground and Derek doesn't push further. drawing to a stop again, he waits for Stiles to speak.

when he does, a moment passes wherein it does feel unexpected. Derek's on the cusp of asking why when he realizes that he already knows. even without their first conversation, the gravity of it is written into Stiles' face.

Stiles isn't asking because he's nosy (though he is) or to be irritating (though he is). Stiles is asking because, across an ocean, his best friend is still struggling with his newfound gift. while time has passed and the friend is still alive and that bodes well, Derek finds that he understands. he gets it.

after a brief silence, which has Derek's smirk sliding away to something graver, he nods. the game has suddenly become worthwhile. ]

Alright.

…Seriously?

[ Brought up short by Derek’s apparent willingness to humor him, he balks at the werewolf. After a moment, his eyes narrow. ]

You’ll do it? Promise me.

[ Stiles doesn’t know Derek well enough to not cover his bases here; it doesn’t make sense to him that the man would agree to these terms while aware Stiles wouldn’t hold up his side of the bargain. ]

[ huffing at Stiles' doubt, he resumes scowling at him. ]

It's a deal.

[ I promise sounds too gentle, too soft in his head, so he assumes Stiles will settle when he manages to bite down the reflexive I said yes, didn't I? as he walks back to the chessboard, he brushes past him, speaking over his shoulder. ]

Black or white?

White, [ comes the immediate answer, unabashed in claiming the advantage. ] Black suits you more anyway, big guy.

[ Refusing to take his gaze off Derek lest the man vanish into the night, he slowly walks backwards to his side of the board. There’s no way he’ll squander this opportunity. As an alpha, Derek must have some useful information to provide. If Stiles were an honorable sort, he would encourage his opponent to redefine the deal’s terms in the chance Derek wins. He doesn’t; not only does he highly doubt that outcome, but he’s also fine with the bargain being totally lopsided. ]

Hope you're not a sore loser.

[ Stiles moves a pawn forward. ]

[ the corner of his mouth quirks, but the levity doesn't last longer than a breath. Stiles' response only makes it more apparent that he's a conniving little shit. Derek thinks he'd prefer it if he was really just an idiot.

still, he's less dour than he was - the irritation in his expression has ebbed, replaced with a serious, thoughtful look. it's been a long time since he really played, and Stiles seems to currently possess a rare confidence that suggests the odds might be stacked against him.

although his eyes flick up to Stiles in annoyance at the remark, he's quick to resume watching the board, even when the pieces are all in place.

make your move, Stilinski. ]

[ Ultimately, it’s not only the terms of the deal that prove lopsided. ]

Checkmate, [ Stiles crows triumphantly, a smug smirk spreading across his face. ] My bishop takes your king. I’d say “good game,” but…

[ Eyebrows raised, he glances at either side of the board to compare their captures; the majority of Derek’s pieces are strewn across the ground carelessly, proof of how single-minded and ruthless Stiles had been. ]

Well. You tried, and that’s worth something. Probably.

[ And because he’s feeling more than a little cocky at the moment, he kicks over the black king and stands over it—proffering a hand for Derek to shake. ]

[ losing is irritating, and Derek glowers at his own traitorous king in reprimand. it's Stiles, however, naturally, that makes it insufferable. he attempts to weather the storm of his victorious jubilation, letting out nothing more than a long, heavy sigh in answer, Derek makes an effort to ignore him.

only when Stiles comes closer does he slowly, slowly drag his gaze up from the ground. there might be some kind of threat in there. his eyes flick between the proffered hand and Stiles' stupid smug face.

he extends his hand, but follows it up quickly with a jerk of his head. there's no snapping teeth, but that's almost doubtlessly the suggestion. ]

[ Derek is rewarded with the most undignified yelp capable of being produced on human frequencies. Jerking bodily out of reach, he abandons any caricature of good sportsmanship and forgoes the handshake entirely. ]

Oh my god, okay, [ he shrieks, voice wavering pathetically, ] so unnecessary.

[ He now needs a minute or two to calm down, since his heart feels about ready to burst from his chest like an xenomoroph in a shower of blood and gore. Glaring weakly at the werewolf, he wishes he hadn’t left his inhaler at his grandparents’. ]

[ although Derek almost resumes scowling for that comment - really, Stiles? that was unnecessary? - he is feeling too triumphant, and the smirk lingers on his face as he folds his arms again. Stiles, being a ridiculously sore winner, absolutely had it coming, and after such an embarrassing defeat, Derek has to reassert dominance somehow. (it might be argued that Derek is several years older and an alpha werewolf; he shouldn't need childish displays, but Derek certainly isn't thinking of that.

he does begin to feel somewhat unsure when Stiles takes so long to come down from his panic, how his heart beats so loud it feels like Derek's own pulse, but he ignores any kind of remorsefulness.

he glances around them, scanning. there's no crowd around them, and perhaps no reason to be wary, but - well, Derek is Derek. he inclines his head off to the side. ]

Come on.

[ and starts to walk. ]

[ This is how I die, he thinks weakly, hesitating only a second before trotting after the werewolf. Now that the nervous sweat from earlier has begun to cool, his body feels uncomfortably clammy and chilled. Stiles suppresses a shiver, eyes darting this way and that to delay the moment they inevitably settle on Derek’s broad back. ]

Listen, I’ve already been thrown inside a closet and threatened multiple times tonight. Can we not with the creepy silence as you lead me to god-knows-where?

[ for a moment, he fixes Stiles with a hard stare from under - of course - a deeply furrowed brow. the words have made him uncomfortably and acutely aware of the fact that he has little idea of what's going on with Stiles. his eyes flick over him in swift assessment.

he does not slow down. ]

You wanted to talk, [ he says, thrusting his hands into his pockets. ] I'm not doing it where anyone can hear all of it.

[ proud as he is, with information he remains protective, even possessive. Stiles is an exception, not merely because he kicked Derek's ass in a game of chess. ]

[ Incredulous, Stiles pauses to give their surroundings a pointed look; there’s absolutely no one nearby. In fact, most of the partygoers seem to have convened in the marquee. He gazes longingly in the direction of the bar, tempted to ask if they could make a quick detour. A glass of water sounds divine right about now. ]

Paranoid much? Pretty sure you’re the only one with super-hearing.

[ But Stiles doesn’t ask. Excitement ripples through him like a tremor, because a werewolf alpha is going to give him information he doesn’t want others to overhear. Stiles can hardly process his emotions—should he be honored that Derek apparently trusts him enough to keep his mouth shut? Or maybe it’s more likely the guy doubts Stiles could do any damage against the pack with the intel. Either way, he isn’t about to question it. ]

[ shooting a pointed glare in his direction, Derek huffs a sigh. ]

Really? [ he gestures vaguely behind them with his hand. his voice lacks the aggression, the anger of earlier, but it's terse with frustration. Stiles' innocuous remark has harkened back to their first meeting, when Stiles thought he knew better, enough to be safe. ] You think there's no-one else here who can hear better than you? You think I'm the only werewolf, or that there are no shape-shifters, or meta-humans -- hell, even witches with the right enchantment?

[ he jabs a finger at him for effect. ] You need to stop making assumptions. There are people here that can do anything.

[ lecture apparently over, he looks forward again. his intent had been to let Stiles ask what he will, as he doubtlessly would, but having noticed how easily distracted from his own focus he is, he decides he better follow up his tirade with a prompt.

his voice, when he speaks again, is notably more even, perhaps resigned. ]

You said you had gaps.

[ For his part, Stiles remains utterly unmoved and unimpressed by the rebuke. If there truly are people present who are capable of “anything,” then he doesn’t understand what false sense of security that walking a few measly yards will give Derek. Under different circumstances, he would argue the point just to throw the faulty logic back in the man’s face. Instead, he practices restraint; he has his priorities straight for once. ]

Understatement of the year, [ he scoffs, stand squared off. ] Like I already said, we had no one to explain what was happening. So what I do know? It’s from firsthand experience or research.

[ The first full moon after Scott’s curse had been activated… Really, it’s a miracle that Stiles survived that night. ]

[ he’s left with the distinct impression that his warning hasn’t been taken in, if only because Stiles hasn’t listened to any of the rest, but grudgingly he accepts that it isn’t the point right now. Instead of prodding about it, they end up thinking the same thing: sharply, Derek’s mind turns, as it so easily does, to the full moon. even at his most isolated, he’d had Laura, and together they’d been able to hew out a kind of leash on their anger. they’d been able to keep control.

one wolf, on the other hand - he recalls Stiles claiming to be his pack, and considers it in a new light.

the silence stretches on before he replies. ]

Get him to make contact with a witch, for Wolfsbane potion. It’ll put him to sleep over the shift. We use it with new betas, the ones that can’t control themselves. [ his eyes flick to Stiles once more, and then once more flick away. ] Probably easier.

[ Perturbed by the pregnant silence, Stiles shuffles awkwardly on his feet before casting another look at the bar. He’s so going to be hungover tomorrow, which will suck considering the fact he’s already committed to having dinner with Nancy. Do London convenience stores stock Gatorade? God knows he’ll need it…

The information about the Wolfsbane potion elicits a myriad of reactions from Stiles. Relief, irritation, curiosity, deep thought—his mind speeds along as he mentally plans how to get Scott in touch with a witch. He’s not sure if he’s comfortable with the idea of his best friend unconscious and vulnerable like that, but it’s obviously better than said best friend ripping out throats indiscriminately. If Scott had someone to watch over him while he slept… This could be a really solid solution. ]

How difficult is it to make?

Ask a witch, [ he says, and it's with a shrug of his shoulders - the words do not come out as dismissive, instead coming out softer, further away. he's never had to ask; long ago, his family had trusted in them when necessary, and now he does too. at least, when there's a reliable enough witch to source from. ] They're not rare, and you probably wouldn't need to pay much, so I guess they're pretty simple. If you know what you're doing.

[ Derek, of course, doesn't. he makes a mental note to ask Kenzi about it sometime. he glances back at Stiles, and then away again - an unspoken invitation for him to ask his questions. ]

Edited 2015-06-19 18:07 (UTC)

[ Except Stiles isn’t done with this topic, even if he’s already exhausted Derek’s apparent knowledge on the subject. ]

Is it something I could make? [ There’s an intensity to his question that has him balking at himself, so he quickly follows up with humor to lighten it up. ] I mean, easy, right? Throw in some dead lizard, maybe the blood of a virgin, stir the pot three times, bam.

[ Derek's about to roll his eyes, except he actually has to think about it before he shakes his head. his eyes linger on Stiles, narrowed in scrutiny, and then he looks away again, admitting to himself that he's surprised by how readily and zealously Stiles asks the question. is it a pleasant sort of surprise? he's not sure.

it shouldn't come as a shock, anyway. he's only human. ]

You might as well take him a glass of water. Potions aren't just mixing ingredients.

[ Not an unexpected answer, and yet he’s disappointed all the same. Mouth twisted, he takes a moment to reconsider his contacts back in Beacon Hills. He’ll get in touch with Scott later to discuss who they could hit up for the potion. It’d have to be discreet, given how much scrutiny his friend has been under from his parents of late. ]

Alright. What did you mean earlier, when you said you use it with new betas? Are you saying it’s possible to learn to control it?

[ he tilts his head thoughtfully; it's an oddly placid gesture and perhaps ill-fitting with his dour expression. while he knows the answer well enough, he's trying to think of the way it was explained to him when he asked it years ago, the way his mother would have worded it. ]

Not all the way. When the full moon comes, every werewolf feels it. We can't be around people then. But with training and experience, you can learn enough discipline to keep yourself out of the way, to make sure you don't go looking to hunt. It's the difference between being chained up or not.

[ he looks at Stiles, giving a minute shrug. ]

It's hard enough to learn with a full pack, but you've managed to hold off a rampage so far. That's pretty impressive.

[ The compliment is unexpected. Expression guarded, he appraises Derek silently in the moonlight for a few moments. He knows that he can’t accept the offhand praise, and the unhappy churn of his gut is reflected on his face. ]

Not really. I’m just impressed with the reliability of industrial strength chain. Too bad I can’t write a review for that brand. “Five out of five stars. Keeps my pal from tearing out my throat every full moon! Very little wear and tear.”

[ that gets a snort of laughter out of Derek, for once. flippant as it is, he understands all too well. Stiles isn't totally clueless. ]

Sometimes that's what it takes. [ it doesn't make it easy, he thinks, and doesn't add. ]

[ And now it is Stiles’ turn to shrug, done with both arms folded over his chest. He’s been trying to build up to the one question he’s dying to have an answer to. With a deep breath, he finally addresses it head-on. ]

Is there a cure?

[ it's a question that has Derek's hackles beginning to rise, because the automatic and angry response is that it doesn't need a cure, it's not a sickness, it's not the curse it's claimed to be. he relents, however, because he said he'd answer questions.

he shakes his head. ]

Too late for that. After activation, it's permanent.

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