citylogs | [OPEN] Residential Halloween Party

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[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

( 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?) ]

( the heart on her sleeve betrays her as it always does, her brows still furrowed despite his reassurance. at least she does not vocalize that very same question even if it hangs on her tongue; there's only the slightest bit of an addendum she would have added otherwise, born out of misunderstanding due to the lack of a full picture. is he dying, then?

unsure, uncertain, uneasy - the glass she's set aside prior is sought out if only to be able to cradle it in her hands, sat atop her lap as if it's the only thing that'll keep her steady. )

Mm, then, tell me about your sister? ( she had one, too, for a short stint. it was a source of joy for however long the fairy tale lasted. it remains something of a sore spot these days, so she focuses on his instead. memory and story is what keeps people alive long after they've passed, after all. ) You only told me a little last time.

( that she's gone, that he misses her, that there yet exists a comforting melody. but surely there's more to the story? )

... Where to begin.

[ It's a slow, not so hesitant as it is a thoughtful start; speaking of his sister is one of the few things, it seems, that draws something a little softer, a little gentler out of his placid smile, eyes dropping back to the water in his lap. It swirls with the help of a simple motion. His thoughts follow it, her question a hand around the glass of his heart. ]

A strong woman, in heart, in mind, and in arm as well. There was little one could say to dissuade her once she'd set her course. That stubborn will of hers is what pushed her so far, though... gained her the favor of people who might otherwise overlook her. Overlook us, when we paired. Her arms were a safe haven when we were young, her voice a lullaby, her smile my reason for living...

[ Argalia trails off for a moment there, a swell of feelings in his chest indescribable; he understands them after a moment of reflection, swallowing the nonsensical sadness with a sip of water before he continues. ]

She was my twin, though older by minutes -- as it happened, the night passed according to the records they went by, and she ended up being born one day and I the next. We had been inseparable since, yet at some point we began to misunderstand one another. It was then she was taken from my life for the first time, and while I'd never approved of the uncivilized wretch that'd caught her fancy, I... didn't stand in her way, either. My sister had always gotten what she wanted, and I wasn't going to deny her anything myself -- not after all we had been through, worked for, had to be gained by our own hands.

But you know, Fearne, [ just the slightest bit more chilly, as calm as his lofty voice remains, ] I wish I had. Because that first loss only led to my second, being her life in its entirety. Don't feel pity for it though, my dear; it was through Angelica's death I found a kind of peace, because where she had once disappeared from my side I suddenly found her all around.

( the thing is, fearne knows love when she sees it. her grandmother raised her on it, and at the end of it all, it is what drives her. the love for her family, for herself, and for those she's deemed her friends. it's the only thing that truly matters.

it's in the way he has to ponder for the moment as if he's thought of too many of her traits to be worth speaking of, because these are all the things he loves about her. the way his smile melts into something fonder than she's ever seen him wear, far cry from the playful charm that taunts, unreachable and confident. it's the care he takes in even the way he introduces all these facets of her.

his words a tender requiem, his regret palpable.

the sudden dip to his usual lilt is.. admittedly a little terrifying, made worse by how calmly he's said what he did. after all, she's keenly aware of the lengths she would go through for hers, and to be in the face of a heartbroken other when you live outside the boundaries of their care is no light matter. especially when they've had time to refine their rage back into calm.

yet, she remains. undeterred. foolish, perhaps, but undeterred. )

I wish I could've met her. She sounds like a fun gal.

( but. )

Would you have, though? You said it yourself, you both worked really hard to get where you're at, and she followed after something that made her happy with that freedom. I can't say I know you all that well, but I don't think you would've wanted to see your sister living with a broken heart either.

It comes back to living rather than just surviving. Given the choice, do you think your sister would want to go back to surviving even if she knew what chasing that happiness would bring her?

No.

[ Simple as that. It's a snap back to his normal, reclining in his seat as his eyes lift up and away. ]

She was foolish in that way. Ah, my dear sister, if only you'd been content the way I was -- the way I thought we'd always be. Just what about that man attracted you so? Even now, I don't understand, for all else I do now.

[ Or thinks he does, anyway. ]

Nonetheless, a broken heart can heal with time; a hole cannot be so easily filled. She would have resented me, if she even listened to my pleas, but I could live with that so long as she lived with me. Do you understand?

( he asks if she understands, and in truth - she doesn't. the kneejerk reaction to respond with is that she would rather her own heart break and theirs be kept whole, but would loss change her as it did with him? would she forgo their happiness for her own if it meant their survival? is that within the purview of what she's willing to do for them?

she doesn't know. so she remains steadfast in the first answer until circumstance proves her otherwise.

it's a long moment of staring at the glass in her hands, unwilling (unable) to let her gaze settle on him any longer. her sigh shaky and a little worn. even she knows how out of her depth she is in the moment, but she's the foolhardy fearne calloway, stubborn as they come. )

.. Has yours?

( she knows the answer to the former, but it's the latter that she risks. )

Do you think yours will ever heal?

( to her, what he compares is one and the same. the empty space left behind by a beloved. a broken heart. if he doesn't think his will, what faith does he have that his half by blood would? )

[ ...

Argalia carefully sets his glass aside. Shifts to face Fearne more, bringing up a knee to sit comfortably in a half-crossed fashion as he leans on his hand, smile more alike to his wolfish ears. ]

See if you can get that book for me, darling Fearne, and I'll be able to give you an answer.

[ It's not a question he wants to answer right now, or think about. Will it ever heal? Certainly, if he's able to complete his sister's requiem it shall open a new path -- for himself, for all others. Maybe a healing, filled heart is within that future. Who can say. ]

( ... )

Are you going to be here long?

( she knows he's looking at her, she feels as if she'll always be able to tell, but even now she can't bring herself to meet him properly in kind. she can imagine by how he sounds just the sort of smile that tugs on his lips when he gives her a non-answer though. he doesn't want to, or maybe he doesn't know. either way, if he's moving on, so is she. )

I might quit for the night in a little while; it's a good show of camaraderie towards our hosts for pushing against what's apparently been planned for us, though I won't be attending that event if I can help it. I'd like to see what happens if I remain against the tide.

[ Nothing good, but he doesn't know that yet. ]

Want me to walk you to Granny's house, Little Red? Or do you trust the woods, unfamiliar as they might be, my fey?

( now she laughs, something lighter to loosen up constricted ribs. )

I ask because I was going to leave and come back, actually. I just wanted to make sure you'd still be here when I do.

( oh, little red. all the warnings you should heed. don't lead the big bad home, don't listen to how sweetly they call for you. all ignored when she makes to stand, turning to face him even as she reaches for her basket. )

But if you'd rather walk me home I'm not going to say no. It'd save me a trip.

( a tip of her head, an invitation. )

I'd love for you to see my Nana's place someday, though. She'd adore you.

Edited (it bothered me that i used the same icon :/) 2023-11-13 18:07 (UTC)

[ Well, doesn't she just have a way if surprising him. Unpredictability is as pleasant as it is worthy of caution. His life has at least let him disguise it, though he can't help the pause that comes before he stands after her. ]

Is that so? If she's half as lovely as you are, I'm sure I'd like her too. Lead the way, my dear.

( her smile only brightens, delighted that she's the chance to talk about her grandmother. )

Lovelier, I'd say.

( ah, but her cider.. hm. she'll pause for a moment to drain the rest of it, she doesn't want to have to carry it all the way home. glass empty, she sets it on the table to get on with her merry way, gesturing for him to come follow. )

But even back in my world it's hard to get to where she is, let alone now when most of my spells are locked up tight. Time gets weird, too, apparently? Because of the boundaries of the feywild or whatever? But it's definitely worth the trip!

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