citylogs | [OPEN] Residential Halloween Party

Entry tags:

[OPEN] Residential Halloween Party

WHO: EVERYONE.
WHAT: Resident run Halloween Party, as well as after party!
WHERE: District 2 restaurant, and also around the city.
WHEN: October 22 to October 31
WARNINGS: To be warned in character threads!

FLIERS GO OUT with the announcement of the university's Halloween Party, and the final preparations for the resident Halloween Party are put into motion. Word is put out that they'll start their party on the exact day of the university's, and on that day, fliers are put around today with a location and time, and message.

THEY'RE TESTING YOU. STAY AT HOME.
IF YOU WANT TO TEST THEM BACK, COME TO OUR PARTY. SEE WHAT THEY DO.
STAYING BACK IS ALWAYS SAFER.
People will do what people will, and in this place, intentions matter most.

But it's just a little party, right? What's the worst that could happen?

... AT THE PARTY.

The Halloween Party takes place at a restaurant with an open courtyard, a high wall to give some privacy, but the sky above is clearly visible, every door opened wide. Precautions even taken, with cinder blocks by the courtyard's double doors leading in and out, with a blanket and pumpkin on top for decoration, of course.

Your typical Halloween decor covers every inch, inside and out, and even on the outer wall to make clear you've found the right place: fake cobwebs cover the walls, there are glowing orange lanterns strung from the ceiling, dotted every now and then by hanging bats (yes, these are also fake) and there are jack-o-lanterns making all sorts of weird and delightful faces at you on countertops and on top of some of the tables. There’s even a skeleton in one of the corners gesturing to the bar! He’s got a cool top hat! He also has a sign propped up against him that reads PLEASE DRINK RESPONSIBLY.

There’s food! There’s drinks! There’s merriment!

It should be the most inoffensive Halloween Party, by all accounts. And for some--who intend to go to the university's event--it will be. But for those who intend to stay away....

1. COMPULSION. It starts out small: you think about what's happening at the university. Sure, you may wonder what's happening and about the other people there, that's normal, but sometimes, you find your mind drifting: why aren't you there? It would be good to go, wouldn't it? You're not even sure why you wouldn't want to go, and you may even find yourself abruptly bringing it up in the middle of another subject to the person you happen to be talking to. Hey, why don't we go to the university? Don't they have a party going?

But then, you may catch yourself, or need another person to snap you out of it. And then you might become more aware of how insistent the thought is becoming...and how you're talking about what's happening at the university, even while trying to watch out for it.

2. IN COSTUME. You've come in costume--what's a Halloween Party without one? From your zombie outfits to your vampires (um, rude? Call the local vampires), maids to cats, there's nothing too serious nor silly for Halloween. You could even just have something simple for the mood--a pair of ears on, or a pumpkin pin.

Whatever you're wearing, over time you start to feel...let's say in character with your outfit. Are you just feeling giddy from the drink? But small instances start to become more insistent: This isn't just a costume, this is who you are. And maybe a person or encounter can make you snap out of it...

But what will happen before then? And how long will you be your regular you?

3. TRICK OF THE EYE. It's reasonable to be worried. There's an expectation that the city will find some way to screw with this party, but is it just your anxiety making you see things out of the corner of your eyes, or is something playing tricks on you? These visual tricks can continue through the night, either staying as small scares to catch you off-guard, or...

...they can become more than tiny glimpses: where you start to see people, figures science-like in nature, faces that appear to be watching you. People who aren't there when you try to approach them, or are gone when you blink. Or are they there? Is it other residents staring at you? Though they might insist they don't have a clue what you're talking about--or accuse you of doing the same.

4. PARANOIA. Slowly but perhaps inevitably, you feel a prickling on the back of your neck. And you can’t shake the insistent feeling that something terrible will happen if you stay here. But where is that feeling coming from? Did Robby put something in your drink when he handed it to you? Is Tsuruno’s smile concealing something more sinister? Can your hosts really be trusted? They might be throwing you under the bus here. Or maybe they were working for the City all along…

In that case, maybe it’s best to distance yourself as quickly as possible?

5. HAUNTINGS. It’s a nice party, you’re enjoying yourself, maybe bobbing for apples, maybe making out with that cute vampire in the corner (contain yourself, Midnight). Or you could be a killjoy and you’re just waiting to see what will go wrong, in which case you might be able to duck the caramel apple that comes soaring at you. Or the plate. Or a chair? While you won’t be able to pick up on anything supernatural beyond a chills and the distinct feeling that Someone is watching you…

It’s a little hard to ignore when things keep getting tossed at you with increasing regularity with no real source behind it. And you may find yourself being tossed–

Right out of the party. Wow, maybe the university party has bouncers that are a little more polite.

... IN THE CITY.

The party has ended! The one at the university is, apparently, going strong for multiple days! But you’ve resisted! You decided to go along with this experimental idea and made it through thus far! But the horrors persist, don’t they?

And maybe they’re a little more stubborn than you are.

1. COMPULSION. You went to the party, or you never did--it doesn't matter. For some reason, you can’t get the thought of going to the university party out of your head. And maybe it’s light, at first. Just a passing thought. Or maybe you find yourself unconsciously heading in the direction of the university, or even start having it come up in conversation.

“Hey how are you” totally sounds like “Halloween party at the university”, right? Doesn’t this actually sound like a good idea, the more you think about it?

2. DISORIENTATION. Something feels… off. You only paused for a few seconds, so why has it been an hour? Despite your best efforts, your focus keeps slipping away in increasing intervals, and the more frequently this happens, the more time you feel like you’ve lost, even if that person you’re with helps you fill in the blanks. And if no one’s there to assist? Well, you felt like getting lost today, surely!

3. TRICKS. As the day drags on, you may find yourself turning on your heel at the sound of… a familiar voice or a bit of nostalgic conversation, the joyful sounds of a party. But no matter which direction you hear it from, when you turn around, there’s no one there.

It gets worse. You start to see things, flickering across your line of vision, suddenly there. But it’s nothing friendly or warmly nostalgic. They’re flashes of your worst fears, more and more insistent, and these will only increase in frequency the longer you hold off on going to the university party. Is it really worth being stubborn over? This could all be resolved so very quickly.

4. IN COSTUME. If you were at the party, you find it difficult or even undesirable to take off the costume. If you weren’t at the party, you’ll still find yourself dressing up to get into the Halloween spirit, which maybe you didn’t actually give a damn about before? Such is the magic of the holidays.

But it’s more than just a different outfit. You’re starting to acquire characteristics of that outfit. And maybe you can feel those fake vampire fangs digging into your lip with increasing sharpness. Wow, that face paint for your zombie costume is starting to look alarmingly legit! That growl that just came out of your throat might have been wolfish and convincing, but surely you’re not actually turning into a wolf–right?

Don’t worry, it’s not actually real. But you should really go check out the university! Haven’t you been through enough?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

i. andante con grazia

[ Argalia had chosen a modest costume, fitting a pair of silver wolf ears into similarly colored hair, and while he might notably be missing the cape he'd been wearing last anyone saw him...

Well. Maybe it'll make an appearance on someone else.

The wolfishness won't come out in the way it might in a horror movie, more alike to a predator watching and stalking its prey, but Argalia seems at home the way he rests in the outdoors with a simple glass of water. No alcohol for him tonight, thank you. ]

... Can I help you?

[ Since clearly, you've been staring at him. He doesn't mind; he's rather pretty and he knows it, all smiles and charmingly lidded eyes. Color Fixers are a little more attuned to their surroundings, so he's aware there's something odd about the atmosphere right now -- but still, certainly, he's caught someone staring at him. Hasn't he?

Better safe than sorry. Oh, but if it's Fearne, he'll just wiggle his fingers in greeting. ]

ii. lamentoso

[ The party'd been fun. Argalia's keen to see what happens the longer he stays from the university's party, as per request of those kids, even if the initial experiment was. Not great, as the youth would put it.

... His keen hearing is what gets him, though. A familiar voice he stops and turns at, scanning the streets remarkably flapped, and steadily he tries to find it. Find her, a memory played on repeat in conversation; he thinks briefly of Roland's mentioning that this place had haunted him with her before and laughs.

Probably, probably. But Argalia has been missing her terribly, since he'd arrived and lost the breeze against his cheeks, the clouds watching from above. ]

Excuse me, [ he'll say politely enough to any he sees, ] but you haven't happened to see a woman who resembles me, have you?

[ Calm, even-tones, though his eyes flick about and the call of his name lingers in his ears; Uberto, Uberto, Uberto. ]

iii. tempo comodo

[ the wildcard option. if neither suits you, throw anything at me or i'll write up a starter just hit me through PM or on plurk sundrymunity ]

( grandma's girl, a fondness for straying off the path and dallying with the big bad - a funny enough reference to herself that she figured, well, why not. she's got ten days of festivities to dress up for anyway.

on her shoulders sits a long cape, red as an apple, with a hood that she can't quite pull up due to both the nagging issue of her horns and sheer volume of hair. a modest dress, of course, her usual would detract from the look. she's even got a wicker basket full of silly trinkets on her arm. even more of the decorations, seemingly, with her leaving plastic spiders here and there for people to find when there were none otherwise just a moment previous..

with one she fumbles the moment she spots the familiar shock of silver. ah.

then he does that, and she has to resist the urge to.. what, bite him? walk away? stick her tongue out in open rebellion? because the man knows exactly what he's doing and she's done a terrible job of not staring already.

so she'll stay on her side of this courtyard for now thanks! but he does at least get a more proper acknowledgement in the form of a mouthed: )

You're a bastard.

( - then innocently takes a sip of her cider before anyone else could be the wiser. )

[ Oh, how darling. She's still mad at him. He lets a small grin slip out the next time she looks over, mouthing back. ]

I'm glad you could make it.

[ Like nothing's wrong, the bastard. Argalia's eyes won't leave her though, both because he knows she wants them on her and because, well. Wolves always had a taste for doe-eyed young women in red. He's finding himself in much the same mood. Conversationally, for the childrens' sake. ]

( mostly due to the choice in greeting, honestly. ... that, and the fact that she got caught looking to begin with. embarrassing, really. she's usually better at that.

a fumble she's being made to pay for dearly in the moment, the weight of his stare hard to ignore as she does a quick sweep of the area with her eyes. just in case. she'll meet his eventually. )

Why, so you could run off again?

( and excuse him he didn't invite her here! )

[ Please. He won't answer at first, turning his face and taking a pointed sip of his water, and rest on his hand after. ]

You've been on my mind.

[ Which isn't untrue. If she doesn't come over soon though, he's got little qualms with going to her. Test him. ]

( a 'yes', then. maybe she should leave first in that case. )

...

( well, the story was always about the girl who wanders off the path a little. only this one swipes a snack on her way over for good measure, a cookie she makes a point to snap with her teeth. promise, threat. same difference.

how did it go again? )

My, what big fluffy ears you have.

[ Promise, threat. Charming. He won't run away this time; he told the kids he'd stay and help with their little experiment. Argalia watches as she comes over, resting back against the chair now with a content sigh. ]

All the better to hear you with, my dear. [ Though his ears can manage that much naturally. ] Here with anyone, Little Red?

( she's reaching for a chair of her own when he answers with the appropriate line, pausing for just a beat too long to be natural before finally taking a seat herself. she clears her throat, suddenly parched, and takes another little sip of her cider as she considers how to answer. )

I didn't take you for the jealous type, Wolf. ( not that she truly thinks it's why he asks. ) Afraid that the woodcutter might come along?

If I was, I would've run by now. You're quite a sight when you're angry.

[ Though he retreats on his own terms, not hers. ]

Though I'll admit, [ and quieter, ] I'm not really the type that likes to share.

[ ... When he has something he prizes, anyway. ]

I'm not that bad.

( apparently content to stay for awhile, she sets her drink down on the table, her basket by her heel, and readjusts her hair over her shoulders so she can lean back properly. if she begins working the seafoam into a thick braid, surely it isn't out of some itch to keep her hands busy.

hm. )

And if I said I was?

( here with someone, she means. but he can interpret that however he wishes. )

Then I'd have to change that, wouldn't I?

[ From with someone to alone, or from someone who doesn't mind sharing to one who can't stand it. But they're idle words, casual as his gaze lingers on her a moment before moving back to their little gathering. ]

It's a quaint party compared to what I've attended after climbing as high I could. What do you think?

( thankful for her cape all of a sudden, she's resolved to simply not think about that too hard. for now. effectiveness pending.

but she does hold his gaze until she loses it, hers now wandering just low enough to watch his lip make small talk before she turns it to the braid she's still working on. )

I haven't gone just yet. ( she is, of course, assuming he's talking about the university one? but who knows with this guy. ) This one doesn't last as long, so I figured I'd hang out here first.

( a thoughtful hum. )

I like the spirit of it. ( defiant, subversive, and openly rebellious? c'mon. ) But everyone does look a bit on edge and distracted and I'm not really sure why. You wouldn't have happened to already played with them, have you?

( you know, with tricks that'd suit the season. )

I don't pick just anyone to play with, Fearne. You're the only one I'm interested in here.

[ Here, at this party. There's a certain qualification they need to have... a certain benefit to him, in some way, but more broadly a certain attitude. Or appearance that might denote it.

Reassuring, isn't it!!! ]

That said, I was feeling much the same until very recently. I suspect it's got something to do with that test they were talking about happening at the university -- the not-so-quaint one, from how they've advertised.

[ This is the quaint one. The other, maybe, isn't. He's sure he'll find out sometime, just not anytime soon. For the sake of science. ]

( ah, such a sweet thought. to be the only one he has eyes for. he certainly knows how to pluck at the heartstrings, doesn't he? to have been made subject to his attentions once already is proving to be both bane and boon, she's starting to find. he promised and delivered quite the unforgettable performance.

but it's a lie she's choosing to believe, even if this conductor has told her he's others to draw beauty from still. who could fault a girl for wanting to feel a bit special? )

It must be my lucky day then.

( vine twists where her fingers trace, her braid now secure in its hold. the idle fiddle with a loose bit here and there sealed with small blooming monkshood to keep it in place. )

I have a pretty active imagination, but even I can't seem to see you worried. I didn't think much fazed you?

I'm only human, my dear. Even I have things I fear and worry over.

[ Even if he certainly doesn't look it, or act it. Argalia eyes the monkshood once it's placed, reaching over not to touch it, but the hefty braid of her hair. Simple things that they'd never been afforded; he wonders if his sister would've liked hers the same. No, probably not, and with the thought he lays it back against Fearne. ]

You could say I've been trained out of showing the unnecessary. If your mind is elsewhere, then you're likely to be cut down where you stand; I've seen it happen, and I've done it myself. I've been called a monster for it, too, but it doesn't bother me much.

[ Since they're usually the next victim. ]

( to have to will herself still when his fingers reach for her braid is not as easy as she would've thought, even after all this time. everything thus far has been.. comparatively innocuous and safe, but she remains keenly aware of them even as he finishes his brief examination of it. with an expression like his, though, fearne can only really guess what it is he must be thinking. )

To do what you need to survive? That doesn't seem fair.

( this time, when she looks, it seems to be for something more specific. scars and such, evidence of toil and trouble. he does have that air about him that speaks to confidence in himself, and she already knows that he's quick when he cares to be. )

What did you do before this, anyway? Unless conductors out where you're from are just that cutthroat.

[ There's nothing physical she can pinpoint, unfortunately -- not here, at least, on his face. What's scarred lies beneath, like most things; his heart, for one. His body, for two. ]

No, conducting is more of a... hobby, you could say. My livelihood is something you wouldn't know by name, so let me think of an alternative. [ Hmm. ] I am one of the lucky few graced with freedom others long for, able to pick and choose the jobs I take on -- something like a mercenary, maybe, but I'm obliged to participate against certain threats all the same. Contracted, but otherwise not so beholden as a lesser man might be.

[ The freedom is the important part though, hence its placement. The whole reason they strove to the top, after all, was... just that. ]

Though if you're familiar with our Angela, I suppose "Fixer" might be a term you've heard before.

( it's a little odd to her to hear the emphasis on the freedoms the job comes with. while she's not entirely new to the concept of mercenary work by now, it's not as though they're obligated to take every job presented to them. unless, of course, there are some political or societal entanglements involved? most she knew were always at a liberty to choose..

the title is a recognizable one, at least. it ties his association with her colleagues rather neatly. he's already said that angela isn't quite fond of him, but the faun wasn't exactly of mind to be prying back then. so many questions, but which to start with? )

How do you know her?

( as curious as she is about his work, his.. proposal had involved angela. it's a good place to start. )

There's no one who doesn't at this point. We call her the Pale Librarian; her and her Library have caused quite the uproar in the City, to the point that even the higher ups have gotten involved. Though if she didn't make it a habit to kill every person who visited her, I'm sure they'd leave her be.

[ Those are simply facts, as written in reports and carried by word. The City wouldn't leave her be, though; the spot she has is prime real estate, for Syndicate and Wing like. They just wouldn't seek to exterminate her the way they do now. ]

I'm not exactly sure how much you know about your friend, dear Fearne, or what you've been able to glean... But I know her quite well. We're alike, you see: she wants freedom, too. It's simply that the way she's going about it will leave her far more alone than ever before. A terribly sad end, don't you think? To have what you've always desired, and yet sacrifice everything that you hold dear to achieve it...

( he asks how well she knows angela. fairly, she likes to think. but the woman she knows her to be here is different than the one he knows. the woman in his story is a stranger, odd and alien in a way that she almost thinks he might be referring to another. angela? melancholic, full of wonder, that angela?

freedom at a steep cost.. of all others is one thing, of all held dear is another. the most worrying part of all is that the eyes she prides herself with sees no lie in the undercurrent of his telling. at this point, she can only really hope for a missing detail or three.

in a rarer moment, her brows furrow in thought and a touch of worry. she'll have to ask for her story later, when she figures out how to bring it up. )

Is that what it takes to be free, where you're from?

( his, hers, any of theirs. )

[ Worry. There's probably lots that she doesn't know, then; Argalia can say whatever he'd like, but he'll keep it truthful. There's no point in tripping over lies when cooperation always requires honesty. He tilts his head a little, as if working out what she means. It's normal, after all, where he's from; what's there to question?

(That's what the lambs think. He's a shepherd.) ]

Sacrifice? You could say so. Many people forsake what morals they might've had for the chance to step above their peers, and seek a higher ground to look from. It's better to be above than below... in many eyes. I don't like it myself, really. If we could all live as we'd like, with no fear of it being taken away, or that we'd have to hurt another to defend it... If we could be free to follow the paths we choose, the dreams we'd like to turn into reality...

[ His words, slightly yearning, ends in with a sigh. ]

But it's nothing more than a "a nice thought" for most. Her story is not dissimilar to most, frankly, so I wouldn't hold it against Angela any. She simply didn't know better.

[ Most don't, the tone implies. ]

( a tale of survival. this one bothers her less, it's something else that lingers. )

No, that's not quite what I mean.

( she's no stranger to the concept. there are a great many things she would throw to the fire for her and hers, but there's always, always been a great distinction even for one as mercurial as her. people she would doom the world for if it meant saving them.

the playfulness is gone, but the softness of her timbre remains. she's curious. measuring. )

I'm asking if you had to make the choice of sacrificing something dear to you to get to where you are.

[ Oh, is that it. Words really are such tricky things, when one doesn't know how they're being used. Argalia looks down at his water, swirling it in thought. When he speaks, there's a certain wryness in it. The way you do when talking of unpleasant memories, a smile to match. ]

... I wonder if you could call it a choice. My youth being taken from me wasn't one, but I suppose the rise up to where I am could be called one from the outside. Would you call it such, friend, if the only other option would be to die?

[ Either they rose, or they fell. What choice is that? ]

The sacrifices I've made aren't unusual nor dear to me. I've forsaken most relationships of any kind, I've focused entirely on my flight upward and missed out on most things young men might've rejoiced in... Simple pleasures, experiences most would take for granted, cast aside without a thought. Every sacrifice that has meant something wasn't one I chose for myself.

( there's every temptation to look away, faced with all of this. it's always been the easier choice when it comes to the things that sink sharp and deep within the safety of her ribcage. the smile is one she's uncertain she should even bear witness to even with what little she truly knows of him.

and what does she, a woman graced with the privilege of a safe haven, one who has never once feared for her own life, have to say to a man who's had to claw his way out of a pit of broken glass for his? )

...

( there's one thing she's certain of, at least. )

That it wasn't your choice doesn't make it a sacrifice, it being chosen for you makes it a tragedy.

( his words imply that he was never even afforded the chance to cultivate more than the handful he'd fear losing. that he lost even the few he had, in the end. )

I'm sorry, Argalia. ( it is not her place, she knows. his is a sorrow she could never begin to fathom, but still. ) I'm not really the kind of girl that thinks we're better off without all those things, so hearing you talk about the little things that make life worth it to be something that needs to be abandoned is..

( complicated and painful? disturbing? unsettling and sad? )

.. My hope for you is that one day you can start living instead of simply surviving.

[ They're sentiments he's heard in some form -- they're sorry about his sister, about his loss (the only one they know) -- but the condolences about his life in general... is not one of them, more because he and his sister both kept them from others generally. Angelica was always a little more open about it, wracked by nightmares, though even then he doesn't know what she shared; for his part, he's kept as minimal as he has now, and even then...

... Even then, Fearne had offered them and a gentle hope on top of that. He glance back at her, quiet as if sizing up her sincerity, before he chuckles softly. ]

I appreciate the wish, Fearne. But I was able to start living once I became a Color -- that's the highest a Fixer can climb, chosen by the Hana Association... I was called the Blue Reverberation. We're able to live as we'd like, for the most part; that freedom is why both my sister and I strove towards the top.

[ He pauses, gaze gracing another edge of the party, before it returns to the little red beside him. ]

I wouldn't say I'm surviving anymore.

[ But is he living?

... That isn't something that lingers long in his mind, truly. Why wouldn't he be? (And yet, and yet, away from it all, is he?) ]

Argalia / Library of Ruina

icb i've been baited. how was i not supposed to huh

ha

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject