Game Opening: May Ball

[undergroundmods]

LET'S GET THIS PARTY STARTED.

"" (Watch on YouTube)

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 The lights are off, the desks and chairs have been replaced by beanbags and there's a table in the corner with a chocolate fountain, marshmallows and strawberries.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

Comments

[viduation]

[ 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.

[mensrea]

[ 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?

[viduation]

[ 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.

[mensrea]

[ 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.”

[viduation]

[ 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. ]

[mensrea]

[ 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?

[viduation]

[ 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.

[mensrea]

[ Hyperaware of Derek, Stiles senses the shift in mood that his question elicits. He doesn’t know the man well enough to pinpoint where the defensiveness stems from, but he can take a guess or two. His own jaw tightens, though he resolutely keeps his thoughts on the subject to himself—rationalizing it would involve discussing Scott in more intimate terms. And as far as Stiles is concerned, the less Derek Hale is told about Scott or Beacon Hills, the better. ]

You’re telling me in a world of witches and fairies and vampires, there isn’t a single damn way to reverse the curse?

[ Stiles refuses to believe it. Either Derek is lying to him or is ignorant of the options, right? There has to be a cure. ]

[viduation]

[ eyes narrowing, Derek's head snaps around to face him again, his features set hard. although a part of him may understand, even sympathize, it is discredited by his pride - not only in his species, but stinging from the way Stiles isn't taking in the answer. embittered and defensive, Derek wonders why he bothered to ask at all if he was only interested in hearing one thing.

but despite the reflexive surge of fury, Derek is forced to accept the concern prickling, welling within him. a lone wolf is a dangerous thing, particularly for the wolf. ]

Yes, Stiles, that's what I'm telling you. Your friend is a werewolf now. He's always going to be a werewolf. And you - [ he adds, jabbing a finger in his direction for emphasis ] -are his pack now. Right?

[mensrea]

[ By this point, Derek may begin to notice that nothing hardens Stiles’ heart against fear or adversity like discussing Scott McCall does. Stiles knows that, given a choice, Scott would break the curse. This isn’t some kind of blessing; it’s already done so much to screw up their lives, their families’ lives. ]

Yeah, and in case you haven’t noticed, genius, I’m on another continent!

[ The outburst is sharp, angry. Stiles falters in the wake of it, uncertain, and dimly becomes aware of just how concerned he is about Scott’s future when he isn’t there to help his best friend out. ]

[viduation]

[ at once reproachful and stricken, Derek stares at him, comprehending. the tension stringing him together seems to snap; his shoulders slope again, hands unclenching, expression slackening. generally, he might be glad to have touched a nerve - right now, the odds seem stacked too high.

voice lowering, he takes a step closer. seeing a need to push, he decides to take it on a whim, steered by emotion and memory and little else. ]

So why are you asking me this, Stiles? Why does it matter?

[mensrea]

[ Throat bobbing, Stiles swallows thickly. He hates the idea of telling this man anything, of giving Derek even the tiniest glimpse of his true fear and insecurities. So he stalls, mind all static and noise, in an attempt to think of how he can deflect. ]

Because—

[ His eyes drop to the ground. ]

Because I can still send him information. Work out a deal with a witch for him. To something, even if it’s remotely.

[viduation]

[ instead of the begrudging pride Derek might feel at securing an answer, securing potential leverage, Derek replies with a solemn nod. frustration lingers in him, ever a banked fire, but already Derek feels oddly protective of a wolf he doesn't even know the name of. ]

That's right, [ he says, less harshly than before. ] He doesn't need a cure. He needs guidance.

[ guidance that Stiles is now in a far better position to offer, Derek is realizing. it doesn't mean he's any less nosy or annoying, but - well, maybe he gets it now. ]

[mensrea]

You don’t get to decide what he needs!

[ Scowling, he storms right up into Derek’s personal space to jab the man in the chest with an index finger. He immediately regrets the decision; the guy is built like a stone wall. Ouch. ]

So just shut up about it! You don’t know him. You don’t know what he’s been through!

[viduation]

[ it is not the response that he expected, but then, he had little idea of what to expect, and little intent to pin expectations on anyone else, let alone Stiles. but the perhaps expected souring of his expression doesn't come. instead, he shutters, seems to close all over again. he lets the jab slide - doesn't seem to notice it, actually - and fixes Stiles with a pointed look, all sharp corners and hard edges confined in a stoney veneer. ]

Do you think I'm telling you this because you won a game?

[mensrea]

[ The question throws him off. Pausing, he stares at Derek with the confusion of someone who wants to cling to their anger but is also curious about the direction of a conversation. His hands fall to his hips, gripping there so he can square his shoulders. ]

How should I know? You would barely tell me anything last time, and even tonight you’re insisting that I keep my nose out of things. In case I need to remind you, you suck at communication.

[viduation]

[ the tightening of his mouth and flaring of his nostrils as he huffs is a clear enough indicator of the spike of frustration-fueled anger that goes through him. words rise and don't fall, instead are caught in the vice of his jaws. he looks away from Stiles. shifts, almost to take a step. stops. ]

Do you want answers, or not?

[mensrea]

I do! [ he snaps, aggravation peaking. ] So how about you tell me the answer, huh?

[ A moment passes in which the heat of his emotions banks, dwindles. Stiles rarely is angry for any extended period of time. With a coy glance at Derek from the corner of his eye, he continues quietly: ]

You called me out on my side of the deal, but then didn’t force new terms. I don’t get you. Why are you telling me any of this?

[viduation]

[ his questionable calm is broken by Stiles' pursuit of the question. scowling darkly, he resumes his walk, but it's less to escape and more to expel the restless, uncomfortable energy he's brimming with. he feels he ought to tell him to drop it, feels he ought to shrug off the turn their conversation has taken, but the answer is deceptively simple.

Derek sighs, always more wounded than angry. ]

Because he needs to know.

[mensrea]

[ Stiles watches Derek with the same pensive, intense scrutiny from earlier—as if the werewolf is a conundrum he intends to unravel. Trailing after the man slowly, he replays the curt explanation over and over in his head. He’s coming to realize that there’s often more to read in Derek’s responses than first might seem, probably because of aforementioned communication ineptitude. ]

You feel responsible, [ he surmises. ] Why? Because he’s like you, or because he’s from Beacon Hills?

[viduation]

[ struck momentarily incredulous, Derek almost draws to another standstill. that feels too much like defeat. he thinks both but forces the answer to stick in his throat, stubbornly refusing to give Stiles the satisfaction of an affirmative. the best defense is a strong offense, right? ]

This is what's important to you right now? Seriously?

[mensrea]

Okay, dude. If you’re too emotionally constipated to talk about this stuff, then fine. Baby.

[ As if Stiles wouldn’t apply the same deflection tactics. With a mighty roll of his eyes, he makes a jerky, abortive hand gesture to signal that that line of questioning has now been tossed out the window. ]

Can any werewolf bite turn someone, or does it need to come from an alpha?

[viduation]

[ much as he might be trying to preserve his dignity, Derek's almost childish enough to throw back a retort. gratitude and a will to get this over with work wonders for his self-control. still, when he continues it's with a marked change in tone - where before he'd begun to drop some of the tension, now it seems to be the thing holding him together. ]

Any werewolf. It's poisonous to vampires, does nothing to fae or shifters.

[mensrea]

Cool, [ he remarks with a whistle, and it’s clear that he genuinely does find the idea of an anti-vampire bite cool. ] Is every werewolf in London part of your pack?

[viduation]

[ previously, that appraisal might have been met with the flicker of a smile, but Derek is still bristling. sulking. ]

No. There are a few packs here, and plenty that haven't joined any. The East End Pack is the biggest, the most dominant.