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 The lights are off, the desks and chairs have been replaced by beanbags and there's a table in the corner with a chocolate fountain, marshmallows and strawberries.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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1) The Assembly Hall
The assembly hall is packed. Community leaders and interested parties from across the city have come to see the Chancellor make her address. There are rumours that she has an announcement to make, though no one knows what. They're packed in like school children, seated on flimsy plastic chairs, but the room falls silent when Sylvia steps up to the podium. A few cameras flash. She holds up a hand to stop them.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she begins, "everyone. Welcome."

Her speech doesn't sound much different from what you might expect at any high-achieving school, except for the occasional mentions of "celebrating supernatural diversity" and "stellar performance in helping students to control their abilities, magical and physical". That is, until she starts talking about the Institute's work outside the school.

"Redbright has a long and proud history of promoting harmony between supernatural communities. Thanks to our people, in the last few years we have not only made Ealing a safe and secure home for our children, we have also extended our influence to other boroughs, including Harrow, Brent and Hounslow. We call it the safe zone, a place in London where every supernatural and non-supernatural person is welcome, where they can walk freely without fear of harm. We keep the peace. We will continue to keep the peace."

There's a pause. She's warming to her theme.

"Tonight I am delighted to announce that we are extending that safe zone. With the full backing of the Night Council, Redbright is claiming jurisdiction over Barnet. We will be establishing a presence on the ground there, to enforce our no-hostilities policy and to drive out any criminal presence. I hope that you will all join me in supporting our efforts, as we look forward to a safer, brighter future."

A smile.

"And finally, because I know all the adults in the room will be wondering: You can buy drinks on the lawn. There's a big white tent, you can't miss it. Thank you."

2) Cocktails
For around an hour or so after her speech, Sylvia can be found enjoying a cocktail in the marquee. She's approachable, but constantly in demand. If you can get past all the witches and other very important personages surrounding her, you might just be able to have a few words.

[ooc: Option 2 is really the only one where you have a chance to talk to Sylvia, but feel free to react to her speech amongst yourselves!]

Heiji was way too old for the prospect of masquerading as an 18-year-old to be particularly appetizing, and he wasn't all that interested in pretending to be a teacher, either.

[A]: Free food and drinks, on the other hand, weren't so bad. He ended up tooling around the lecture theatre, curious to see if any of the students had come up with anything interesting -- maybe a boss painting or a nice film noir short.

"I kinda like this one. Maybe they're going for the Dashiell Hammett angle..."

[B]:Failing that, he'd head over to the marquee and look for someone to chat up. It was cool, he was totally supposed to be here.

"I don't know about the whole disco deal; shouldn't they at least have karaoke or somethin'?" At least then he could have taken some amusement in the terrible, terrible singing. He wasn't into sweets, either, so this event was kind of a bust for him.

There is an advantage to having a name. A powerful, wealthy name. Being a Widdowson has always had its advantages, Abigail knows that, but she's never had it at her fingertips before. After the death of her family, she was kept inside the manor as much as possible. Before that, she only saw her father wield the name. Now, out on her own, she is her own woman. The name is hers.

And she uses it to its full advantage to perform the society dance around the notable figures to bring her close enough to Sylvia Redbright to address the woman personally. By now, Abigail's fairly sure everyone who's anyone knows that she's here and who she is, but introductions are still polite

"Abigail Widdowson, ma'am." She smiles, her youth and sheltered life showing through. At nineteen, she's had a lot less experience out in the world than some people half her age. But she's had education and lessons in formality, which are worth a great deal in the right situations. "That was a lovely speech."

She's a speck of a girl, this one, but the fact that she's bold enough to approach Sylvia says something. Sylvia lowers her drink, regarding Abigail with a faintly pitying look.

"Widdowson." She rolls the name over her tongue; it is a familiar one. "I haven't heard that name in a while. Thank you."

She knows some of the Widdowson family history, enough to know that the family are cursed and that Abigail's story is inevitably a tragic one. If anything, she's a perfect case study of the dangers of dark magic.

Assembly Hall

Abigail looks the part of a Widdowson woman. She's tall, blonde, and pale, dressed in a long black gown whose sleeves are translucent. The only jewellery she wears is a pair of silver earrings that hang down with small diamonds at the bottom. Her make-up highlights the paleness, and her lips are done in a dark, sedated red. She carries a clutch with her, black with silver accents, and moves seamlessly on heels that just slightly click when she walks.

Abigail is there when Slyvia makes her announcement, and she claps politely at all the appropriate parts, though she might be a bit more subdued at the announcement of the expansion of Redbright's influence. She wants to believe it's a good thing, especially with everything else Sylvia has said, but she's heard conflicting stories from her late family and others they were close to.

For now, she has to reserve judgement.

Lecture Theatre

The slideshow captivates Abigail. The array of accomplishments is impressive enough, but what holds her in place are the faces. People among one another, witches learning in unison. Not a girl shut away in a house. When she was very young, she'd begged to be let attend Redbright. Her father had absolutely forbidden it, and she'd refused to speak to him for just over a week.

Now, she's not certain. She's not sure of a lot these days.

But the kids look happy. The instructors look proud. It feels like they're welcome and wanted.

It's foolish, yes, but it makes Abigail linger just a little longer than most would.

Chess

Chess is something Abigail knows. Her mother played, and it was considered a proper game for a young lady to play, intellectual rather than athletic. It taught the mind patterns and other such things he father said would help her learn summoning better. All Abigail had cared about was that it was a way to pass the time, and she was usually allowed to play it on the back lawn, sitting in the sunshine.

That was better than being cooped up inside, learning her lessons.

So, as she's admiring the style of the large pieces, she smiles a little as she seems someone approaching. "Do you play?" she asks, obviously hopeful, as she stands near the line of black pawns.

Marquee

The event isn't about drinking. Abigail wouldn't be here if it were. Still, society rules indicate that when several other people are drinking, the one who's not is the odd one out. Besides, the pinot noir is delicious, and Abigail is happily enjoying a glass of it as she moves amongst the people. Every step is calculated in a way only someone of society would know. It's all a grand dance, once Abigail has been taught since she was born. Some girls are trained hard to be ballerinas; some are trained just as hard to be socialites.

Abigail is the latter and embraces it. She can laugh with one person, turn, comfort another, turn, share gossip with another, turn. On and on, twisting about. Never lying but never being totally honest. An actress on a stage, a mask for every player. She knows the world, at least in theory, though she isn't as practised as she'd like. Still, she can hold her own.

Her latest 'dance' partner is someone she hasn't met yet, so she takes the first step in however long or short a series they choose to make it. She offers her hand with a soft smile.

"Abigail Widdowson."

Abigail bows her head in polite reply, but she manages to keep her smile.

"Hopefully you will hear it more in the future." There was only slight cause for the name to be talked about before, what with a young woman not yet of age being the last of the line. Now, she is nineteen, and she can fully be part of society, step away from the gilded cage and see the future. She wants it to be talked about again, but this time for the right reasons. Not the curse, not the tragedies, but because a Widdowson is doing good in the world, is making the right kind of difference.

She's holding her cocktail glass with both hands, a slight frown creasing her brow. That sounds as though Abigail intends to make a name for herself. Which could be a good or bad thing, depending on whether she follows the same path as the rest of her family. But Sylvia has a responsibility towards all witches, and she takes that seriously. Perhaps Abigail has come to seek her guidance.

Her tone softens. "What can I do for you, Abigail?"

What can I do for you?

It's a delicate question. One she knows she should have expected. One she did expect. But not one she thought of a proper answer to. Because she doesn't know herself what she wants of Slyvia. Perhaps, it's best to start small. Like the things she never got to ask about the school when she first told her father about her desire to attend.

"I was curious about the school. Would you mind just a few questions?"

Heiji grinned easily back at her at around ten times the wattage of Abigail's initial smile. "Chess? Sure. You wanna try a round? I gotta warn you, though -- I ain't go easy on anyone."

Partially because Heiji was competitive, partially because he didn't really know how; he'd tried throwing games before. But for whatever reason, he could never remember that he was trying to lose, especially during endgame.

Clara smile at him as she drifts to him when she spots the familiar face, still keeping a careful eye on her granddaughter who, to her relief, was more engaged in conversation than alcohol with her friends gathered around her. Thank goodness she seems to take more after her than Francisco's love of drinks.

"Considering some of the children's abilities here, I don't think bruised egos and powers will mix well if someone doesn't like another's rendition of Dancing Queen," she chuckled. Especially when some have had a glass or two. "So -- Are you having fun?"

[ RESPITE ; CHILL-OUT AREA ]

It was nice to visit the school without fear of being seen for once. With everyone so absorbed in enjoying themselves or finding some way to enjoy themselves, Clara found herself in a unique position of freely move around the school and simply mingle with people. It's certainly a lot calmer than the coffee shop and there were perks to being a ghost at times: Coming and going as you please without worrying it'll offend someone somehow.

She eventually finds herself in the converted classroom, intrigued by what was playing on the screen and she moves closer to it as to get a better look what was the witches were doing. How curious. "I never seen this before. I supposed this is supposed to be something wholesome. No sacrifices or anything like that?"

Even if no one could hear her, it was nice to speak aloud just to hear her own voice. She doesn't do that enough she thinks.

[ DANCE DANCE ; ASSEMBLY HALL ]

The disco is happening in the assembly hall and the DJ has awful taste in music. Who could like this?

"I love this!" Clara says in pure and genuine excitement when they begin to play an awfully cheesy song that happened to be Clara's 'jam' so to speak. It reminded her of the first night she met her husband after all and how they danced the night away.

… No one has ever said that the dead are any wiser and at least Clara, usually a worrywart, is having real fun in the party. As one can judge the spirit's dancing to the music. Another perk to being a ghost? Not everyone can see you doing an attempt of the hustle and the funky chicken.

[ FUSS ; MARQUEE ]

And now she's back in full nanny mode, floating after students to make sure they weren't going to get themselves into trouble after they had one too many drinks of wine and not enough nibbles to help balance the alcohol in their systems. It's in her nature to worry over people and with her granddaughter showing that she'll behave herself for the event, she turns her attentions to those she thinks they'll need it.

It was almost funny to watch a worried looking woman chase after a pair of students or a group of students, asking them to watch themselves as her words most likely fall on deaf ears. If one could see her at all.

"Not at all." There are probably no questions about the school Abigail could ask that she hasn't been asked before, so this is familiar territory. "Just a few though, I get a bit of a queue."

Indeed, there are already several interested parties hovering nearby, a couple of whom are listening in to their conversation. They might also want to hear more about the school. Or maybe they're just nosy. Either way, she often finds herself addressing several people at once.

"Aww, the whole point is ya don't have to be good at it," said Heiji cheerfully. "So are you looking after the kids again? Maybe another little girl?"

He was joking, of course; the students here were a bit older than Clara's previous charge.

"More like anyone I think needs my help," she tells him, rolling her eyes playfully before looking around to find her reason of being here.

Upon spotting her, she points to the laughing girl among a gaggle of friends and the look of pride is obvious on her face when she looks back at Heiji with a smile on her lips. "That's my granddaughter, Magra. I meant to be looking out for her but she's doing just fine. I think it's the other students I need to worry about. They're just so excited for this! I'm worried they'll get in over their heads somehow."

"Yeah?" Heiji glanced over at the girl. "She's a cutie, ain't she? Must get it from her grandma!"

Honestly, the clear pride Clara took in watching her granddaughter just hang out and be happy was pretty endearing. Hopefully her granddaughter appreciated it! "Do the students here tend to, ah... make a few mistakes here and there? Not that that'd be too unusual. I mean, that's one of the privileges of bein' young, right?"

Assembly Hall

The speech itself is decent. Interesting information acquired- the Circle Daybreak and Redbright Institute making a move for territory. Nancy, and the witches of Circle Midnight had absolutely no territory of their own, and she didn't mind it. Let others deal with territories so long as she was free to come and go wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

That wasn't how life worked, unfortunately, but she was still, as far as these things go, relatively unknown in the supernatural world of London. Only those who wanted any black-market goods or sought out the fae that had raised her really knew her. Or those who wanted a quick bite.

Nancy hovers near the edges of the event, surveying the crowd.

Dance, dance

A few drinks in her, and Nancy is more than happy to make her way to the dance floor. The music was awful, but what did you expect at a thing like this, where you had so many tastes to try to account for? If the result was awful top-of-the-pop, well, she could deal with it.

You can find her, drink still in hand, tearing it up to whatever awful beat is being pumped through the speaker systems. Shoes still on, the petite woman has no real care who or what she dances with, so long as she's having fun. That's what matters, right? Well, maybe keeping Stiles out of trouble, but sometimes you just wanted to dance.

Drink up

Ah, yes, sweet sweet alcohol. Easily one of Nancy's largest vices, she's hardly too far from the bar at any given moment. A small plate of snacks, and a champagne flute in her hand, she's relaxing a bit more now. Everyone seems to be loosening up some, and purse-strings are looser. It'd be stupid to make a huge scene here. But if someone abandons a purse, she won't say no to it.

But until then, she'll be making small talk with those around her, and making sure her cup never empties.

Maybe it's time to return to the dance floor. Or find someplace a little more quiet for a conversation.

Closed to Stiles

"So what do you think?" She approaches her date mid-way through the night, holding a glass and a bottle. The bottle, she extends to him, the glass already has a lipstick stain around the rim. That one would be hers. "Not at all what you were imagining, is it?" Maybe this was an awful idea, bringing him here. But he'd have found a way in sooner, rather than later. And if he came with her, he was much, much safer.

Stiles was an idiot, sure, a young American, wide-eyed and naive. But he'd wormed his way into Nancy's heart early-on, and she was going to make sure he kept himself safe. This world was terrifying, and dangerous.

"And don't worry about the drink, if that's what you're going to do." A pause. "It's just beer." He was still underage, according to England. Nancy, meanwhile, had been drinking since she was a child, and saw no harm in making sure he drank his fill, too. God knew she was already doing so.

"You're really poundin' 'em down, huh?" Champagne flute or not, booze was booze, and though the refreshments didn't really do much for Heiji, he could certainly stick around and watch other people enjoy them. ...He was kind of regretting the decision to go along and wear the suit, though.

"You part of the parent-teacher association?" She didn't really look it.

His own scrutiny of the work hasn't turned up any brighter ideas, and honestly in the echoing silence of the room it feels almost stranger not to respond to the sole bit of commentary than to offer his own two cents.

"... Who is Dashiell Hammett." No one said those two cents had to be impressive in any way. Or partnered with something useful like an introduction. No, Sasuke offers nothing further as he stares ahead at the credits of that film, drink in hand and face somewhat pinched as if he's forcing himself to sip something horrible.

Nancy stops drinking in order to look over at the man that had spoken, raising an eyebrow at him. Then, she finishes the drink and sets the empty glass down. "It's free, may as well enjoy it." She remarked, tapping her fingernails on the high-top.

His next remark also gets him an eyebrow. "Hardly. Just a guest. Like you, I assume?"

[A]

The Assembly Hall is full of chatter after the speech has ended and Sasuke's unwilling to leave just yet, digesting what he's just heard. The Institute's influence is something he didn't realize he'd have to consider again so soon, having admittedly little familiarity with their work -- the chief motivator for his attendance tonight. He looks as out of place as he's trying to pretend he doesn't feel, wearing an older suit that looks just a bit too short in the legs and arms, "discreetly" examining fixtures and decorations.

It's only a matter of time before the DJ drops his horrible beats.

[B]

So perhaps the chill-out area isn't the most exciting place to hang out but after securing a drink from the dining hall -- and escaping some truly terrible sounds emitting from the Assembly Hall -- it seems like the logical next step, a place to poke around for information and...

Get distracted watching bizarre footage of chanting barefoot women. "What kind of spell is this?" Are they making a sacrifice? Is it possible to sacrifice plants?

[C]

Yes, the lecture theater is mostly empty. Yes, most of these projects are a little bit dull. Perfect. Still armed with his sweetened coffee (an unfortunate mistake that he's now suffering over but too stubborn to remedy) he watches the projector. When he isn't trying to get into locked desk drawers or back rooms when he thinks no one else is around or watching, that is.

Edited (dont look at my shameful brackets) 2015-05-23 18:30 (UTC)

Assembly Hall / Dining Hall

It really was quite a speech, powered by Sylvia's sheer presence and control of her words. The crowd reacts accordingly - cheers and applause, deafening and enthused and so very very orchestrated, just like most crowds tend to be. The gray vibrations no one else feels echo with approval, admiration, a few smaller waves of discontent and fear so thoroughly drowned out by the rest it's impossible to tell who felt them.

In a horde of supporters, it's quite easy to overlook the ones that don't, ones that avert gazes and give false smiles. One that gives neither can slip out of the room as easily as air.

- Oh hey, there's pretzel sticks.

Marquee

There are way too many teenagers here this is not okay- At least the Marquee is absent of them and it's easier to cut of conversations as civilly short as possible. The next time Will can be spotted in a spot it's easy to corner him, it's ordering a drink at the bar and trying to appear as invisible as (in)humanly possible. With the subtle appearance changes in a horde of black suits, it's actually pretty easy.

It's only when someone gets too close does he glance over, only a second, then closes his eyes and turns back away. There might actually be annoyance there.

"I'm busy. Bother someone else."

idk choose your own adventure

He's ghosting around everywhere except the chill room and the teenage rave for obvious reasons, so feel free to make up your own thing.

It actually is pretty funny, but he was never one for laughter. Perhaps Clara could get the sensation of being watched every so often in her adventures of attempted babysitting, but its all in her head. Probably. Not really.

So it might not be too much of a surprise when someone else appears next to her from nowhere, as easily missed as another ghost. There's a short 'good evening' of acknowledgment, but it can't be someone she knows. Will's generally unkempt appearance and bad attitude are a far cry from the composed person standing next to Clara now-

"Want me to throw 'em out?"

- Okay, no, it's definitely him.

Heiji couldn't quite help sticking his nose where it didn't belong, especially when it looked like some other dude was doing it, too. WHAT WAS IN THE BACK ROOM? Inquiring minds wanted to know.

"Whatcha lookin' for? Some dirt on the headmaster?"

Heiji grinned; at least someone was having fun at this party. Well, okay, he mostly just liked talking about detectives, which was what he was going to do now. "He's a famous American author! Ever heard of the Maltese Falcon? He invented Sam Spade! Who then went on to influence Philip J. Marlowe."

"...Say, you all right?"

"Of course. I wouldn't be so selfish," Abigail replies with a small smile and nod. Timing is important. Being a bore is a distinct threat. Better by far, her mother used to tell her, to say too little than too much. "I suppose the most important question is something of a personal one. At what age is someone ineligible to begin attending Redbright?"

It's an old fantasy, one she probably wouldn't live out even if she could. But part of her wants to pretend she could still become a student, wants to imagine she wouldn't be turned away as quickly as her father always said she'd be.

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Game Opening: May Ball

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Chess

[ B! ]

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Drink up

A, this is happening

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did you tell him (no no no)

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Marquee

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Re: A, this is happening

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