daybreakacademy | VALENTINES BALL

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VALENTINES BALL

VALENTINES BALL

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February 14th is a day both famed and notorious for feats of love, passion and confession. And violence, as this year’s theme suggests - a 1920s speakeasy theme, initially based off the Valentines’ Day massacre of 1929 and toned down to be significantly more fun and less a dark reminder of bloodshed. While this year’s event has no predicted surprises like a daemon invasion in store, the Student Council has still chosen to hire extra security for the ball; bulky constructs in surprisingly well-tailored pinstripe suits and hats stand guard outside the entrances to the venue, impassively watching for any signs of trouble.

The ball itself is laid out similar to a 1920s club, with a large space for dancing, a stage for entertainment, and plenty of tables and chairs for sitting, dining, and chatting. Bars on both sides of the room provide a place to order and collect both food and drink, and the second storey of the venue has been put into use to provide quieter and more secluded places to sit.

A. Classy…? Cocktails
As ever, the Academy has provided a lavish and thematic spread of food for the occasion, with a few unique twists to fit the theme. The drinks of are particular note - aside from the usual range of both alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks that Daybreak provides, many are tailor-made for the ball due to a collaboration between some of the alchemy and culinary classes in Daybreak (who were rather too eager to volunteer). Have you ever wondered what it’s like to drink cake or a steak? You’ll find plenty of experiments here, both savory and sweet, to facilitate that experience.

If that’s not to your tastes, some drinks are purely decorative, providing some unique visual or audio effects - you might find yourself sepia-toned or monochrome, chattering like an old-fashioned radio host or filled with an irrepressible urge to sing everything you say - among other things. Mercifully, everything wears off by the end of the night.

B. Changing Stages
While this ball is by no means illegal, there has at least been an attempt to capture the more ‘forbidden’ aspects of a speakeasy. As the night goes on, switches and buttons appear on the walls, and pressing them will make the room shift and change to reveal secret doors and elevators - partially mechanical tricks, but mostly through clever application of magic and mundane illusion. These exits from the room provide ample opportunity for attendees to stretch their legs and take a walk and a break from the rest of the party through mazelike, glittering hallways and smoke-hazy corridors that lead to balconies and small lounges looking out onto strange, abstract views. Walk far enough, and you might end up in a completely different part of the venue than you were before - though for the truly lost, the corridors will always bring you to someone you can ask for help sooner or later, or guide you out.

Well, eventually. It wouldn’t quite fit the theme of a speakeasy without a little bit of uncertainty, would it?

C. Nyeh, See?
For those who would rather indulge in the darker implications of the theme and have no patience for the other entertainment on offer, this maze of corridors offers one other attraction - enchanted guns and gear for laser tag. In strict adherence to the theme, all guns resemble the kind of weaponry that 1920s gangsters would be boasting - and no matter what you were wearing at the time, as soon as you attach a pendant to your clothing, you're immediately in magically-fitting suits any gangster would envy. They even give off the illusion of bleeding should you be 'shot' by one of these enchanted guns, though to avoid causing undue concern the illusory blood sparkles and shines different colours.

D. Shall We Dance?
No Valentines ball is complete without the opportunity to get close to someone you might enjoy the company of, after all. To fit with the speakeasy theme, music and entertainment has been provided - both stage performances from volunteers and a selection of recorded music from the era. And for those up on the second floor, a station has been provided for whatever you’d like to broadcast to the entire room. Whether you’re up on the stage, down on the dancefloor, or you simply want to set a little mood music for certain people to take a hint, there’s bound to be something to do.

Some of the spirits and other, benign creatures that inhabit Daybreak’s grounds have decided to invite themselves, finding the music and warmth too irresistible to refuse. As a result, masked figures dressed in the vague approximation of 1920s fashion can be spotted among the more solid attendants, and those who don’t have a dance partner might well find themselves being asked to dance regardless - and be given small gifts as a token of gratitude for the indulgence. Or they might just nudge you into dancing with someone new...

E. Wildcard
Anything else you’d want to do at the dance? Feel free to enjoy the night - it’s for everyone to indulge themselves, after all.

code bases by tricklet

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His jaw works at that response, unsure quite what to say. The shortness wasn't at all what he was thinking about (though it is rather noticeable considering he's 6'5").

She leaves him blinking again for a different reason.

"Oh. Really? Dios, it feels like it's been ages since I've met anyone normal. Or... formerly normal," He says. He runs a hand through his hair. "Ah, well, translating might be the wrong word but, mages tend to be... severe. They've been in their own world for a long time, only know their own families with big expectations, a lot of power, and a lot of money. There's a tendency to be a little out of touch and kids who are just entering this world are going through an enormous change and that's without the possibility that they've faced any hardship because of all this stuff. My-" He falters, but picks himself up.

"My wife is from a big mage family. I've gotten the chance to see that side of things enough while knowing what it is to be new to this stuff. Basically, I try to sort of bridge things between people who've known magic all their life and those who haven't. I'll re-explain in different terms or help find new angles that those without magic wouldn't think to try. A lot of the time when a kid is struggling it just means they need a more personal learning experience."

As a non-magical human outsider who was thrust into the world of the supernatural by forces beyond her control, Emille knows very little about magic and those who wield it. She has heard a little about mage families -- basically that they're a mess of drama -- so what Héctor is telling her now is more than she'd ever known.

"I see... Interesting." If she hadn't had been so strong-willed and fueled by a furious desire for revenge, she could see herself having a much harder time with all these changes, and appreciating Héctor's services. Even so, she has already learned a lot about magic and aspects related to it in the short time that she's been at Daybreak. And, honestly, many things are still out of her reach. Emille's a scientist, and it can be hard to wrap a scientist's brain around abstract magical concepts.

"I am thankful that you are looking out for the mental health of our students, Sir Héctor. It is an admirable task. Even though my situation is different from theirs, it is similar enough that even I could learn much from your assistance. Would it be okay if I called on you to 'translate' an aspect of the magical realm for me sometime?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, of course," He says, the moment he gets past the novelty of someone with such credentials asking knowledge from him. "I'd be happy to help. If nothing else, even if I can't work something out, I can probably point you in the direction of people who can. We have a lot of very talented people here, both among the faculty and the students."

At least, that's his opinion. Even if the ones he knows and likes best are a touch chaotic. (Like himself.)

"So... biology. Anything in particular that Daybreak's come to you about...?"

Anything like an undead man who rose from the dead by neither contract, vampirism, or necromancy but somehow isn't a mindless ghoul like every other undead that doesn't fall under the above? Anything like Daybreak's deal with him to let him be studied in exchange for protection here...?

"Thank you." She dips her head in appreciation. "I do agree that we are in the midst of many great minds, but mage families and their intricacies are certainly an aspect of the magical realm that can be intimidating to discuss." Not to mention that the majority of faculty she would feel comfortable talking to about such issues is part of a mage family and that's not something she'd want to pry into with them.

Well, Héctor, you asked for it -- when Emille gets going on her specialty, she keeps going. At least this might help get things off his mind?

"Yes, I am a scientist with the Japanese government's Murakumo Organization, and am their current liaison with the Academy. Murakumo specializes in daemon research and the extermination of any threatening species. I am specifically here to warn the Academy about the daemon species known as the Dragons, as they are an extreme threat, and begin building a defense against them."

To the credit of those from mage families, many of the ones he's friends with are well aware of how... much mage families can be. Even Imelda knew, though she loves her family still with all her heart.

He listens intently. Learning the truth of what she studies does ease his mind. It's nothing to do with him and that means he can trust her (probably). Though he does look rather surprised by the end.

"Dragons?" He repeats. "Like, old fairytale fire-breathing ones?"

Héctor is definitely in the clear with Emille, as she would have no way to know about any of his circumstances, unless she was told about them. Even if she did know, it would mean little to her in the long run. She's here for Dragons.

"Dragon daemons are much more complicated and dangerous than the stereotypes. While it is possible that some breeds have fiery powers, there are others that control other magics, elemental and non. Still others are physical powerhouses that rival the strength of an army. There are many Dragon daemons in existence, and their primary purpose is to consume in order to continue living. To them, we are easy prey."

Emille doesn't mince words. "Indeed, that is why I am here. Together, we may be able to stand up against those predators." Though she does not seem or sound particularly angry, she spits out that final word with a growl of hatred.

It's a harsh assessment and a frightening warning both. He might have taken talk of a dragon lighter. Rivaling the strength of an army is very obviously bad. She's passionate, and he's far more inclined to distrust daemons than not.

But he's heard descriptions like that against the undead. He bobs his head with her words but he has to ask.

"That sounds horrifying," He says. "Are they all threat like that? Without a doubt?"

"It is more than merely horrifying," Emille responds, eyes narrowing into angry slits. "It is a matter of life and death. If a stand is not made against the Dragons, this world is finished." She doesn't want to dampen the mood further by actually stating such, but there's a very strong chance that the Dragons are looking forward to using Nightfall as their chance to attack in full force. Yet another reason to put all efforts into preventing it from happening.

"If there is a Dragon daemon in existence that feels more than a primal urge to destroy and feed, then it has not made itself known. My instinct says that there is no doubt that all Dragons are threats to humanity."

As she stews in her fervent hatred, a blue glow is once again faintly seen around Emille, this time taking form as a translucent hand resting on the woman's right shoulder. Almost instantaneously, Emille takes a deep breath and snaps out of her frown as the hand fades. She doesn't acknowledge what just happened, and she doesn't expect anyone else to, either.

His shoulders hike, as much nervous with what she details as he is just over someone being angry like this. He's never done well faced with another's anger. No matter how tall, he seems to shrink on himself.

But the blue glow distracts him from the fury in her face. He watches it as it takes form, breath pulling. And then, Emille changes. He blinks, looking from her shoulder to her face and back again.

"Uh," He starts. "I- I apologize if uh... if this is... odd. And also very, very off-topic. But... have you, er, noticed anything... around you recently? Say, lights? ...beings...?"

Emille, now placid once again, merely blinks at Héctor's confusion. Oh. He must have seen her. In response to his stuttering question, she matter-of-factly states,

"Yes. That was the spirit of my deceased sister, Aitelle. She stays with me and helps keep me calm. My wrath has destructive capabilities, and she tries to prevent that."

A small shrug, as if it's no big deal. "You are the first person at Daybreak to notice her, Sir Héctor. I assure you, she means no harm. She is the most gentle soul that I have ever known." Quietly, she adds, "It is a shame..." and lets her thought trail off.

The pragmatic and even blunt response has him blinking. Usually, when it came to spirits, people were a lot more cryptic. He's certainly never had anyone tell him to his face their wrath had destructive capabilities.

"Oh," He says simply, yet again. But his expression quickly shifts into one of sympathy.

"She must be kind as you say, to look after to you still. It's actually a part of my power now, to see the dead. And speak to them," He admits. "If she ever wants more conversation, she's welcome to speak with me. Or if you yourself wish to speak to someone about these things. I know how isolating this stuff can be. Even on this side of the Veil."

Emille continues past Héctor's "oh": "Yes. I have nothing to conceal."

But before she can speak any further to that topic, her expression softens when Héctor says he can commune with spirits. It's not that she can't speak with Aitelle, but the few minutes they are allowed once a month are precious. And it would be a lie for Emille to deny that she would like more time with her sister. Yet... Aitelle's spirit is a different case, from what she has gathered. All because of the way she died, at the teeth and claws of Dragons.

"I... I see," she hesitates to reply, trying to restore her serious façade. "I did not know that you could speak to spirits. Unfortunately, I am not sure you would be able to reach my sister." Emille's gaze drifts off into the crowd on the dance floor.

He can see he's hit something. There's the human in there past the serious scientist. He has no judgement for her, but he doesn't stop her from looking away all the same.

"It's not an ability I bring up often. It can disappoint people." Namely, when he can't just summon up the spirits said people are looking for. "Most of the time I can't tell who's living or dead. It's only occasionally that a spirit might appear different, but there are special circumstances for everyone." Including himself.

He suspects he's reminded her of an old disappointment just now.

"I won't pry if you don't wish to talk of it further. But, I am here if you want to try. Or again, just to talk. I know how hard a loss can be. Even when it's not the normal sort."

This wasn't at all how she expected this conversation to go. Emille was looking forward to something more akin to small talk, but now she's letting her guard down to someone she's just met. And, in all honesty, it's emotionally draining for the ice-hearted woman to suddenly melt like this. Still making an effort to regain her composure, Emille takes a moment before turning back to Héctor and replying.

"Hm... It must be burdensome to have such a power." She couldn't deal with the heaviness of it all. Regardless, emotional issues aren't her strength, a fact she is being reminded of once again in this very moment.

"Yet," she hesitates, unsure of there even being a point in her asking, "you are willing to attempt reaching out to my sister?" A glance down at the drink bar in front of her. "This has already been tried several times, so I will harbor no expectations, but one more time never hurts." Emille looks back up at Héctor. "However, there are a few stipulations."

It's not something he minds. While he may not entirely open his own heart on the first or even the second conversation, he does tend to find the softer edges of others fairly quickly. It's better than the alternative.

He shrugs his shoulders.

"In some ways, yes. But I get along well with the dead, I find." Thanks to that good old fashioned common ground. But he's going to remain vague in just how relatable he finds it.

"I'd be willing to help, si," He says. "What conditions do you have in mind?" Secrecy, he assumes.

If Emille has one glaring weakness, it's her relationship with her sister. Of course, Héctor had to hit the bulls-eye tonight.

For a second, she looks concerned at his comment about getting along with the dead. But more important things are at stake, so she chooses to overlook it for now and tucks it away in the back of her mind.

"I do not know much about spirits, as I vehemently denied their very existence until recently." Same with magic and everything else past the Veil, really. "But from what I have been told, my sister is an unusual one. Though she is always with me, we can only communicate for moments on nights of full moons. It is unknown why, but I feel that this caveat will make your attempt absolutely futile tonight. You are free to try, of course, but it may be better to wait until the next full moon." Too bad February's full moon had just passed.

"Also, regardless if you wish to try tonight or next month, this act should be done somewhere out of the public's eye." Did he expect secrecy? Secrecy it is.

Is it really a weakness if it helps her? If he were asked, he'd call that a strength.

A smile quirks when she speaks of her vehement denial. He always believed in spirits, more than anything else, but it's hard not to relate to the shock of a whole new world on the other side of the veil. With the rest, he sobers. He nods his head.

"My wife was a necromancer before I could speak with the dead-- spirit work, not the, you know, raising zombies and stuff." Since that gets mixed up even among mage families, he clarifies. His voice only catches a little mentioning his wife who is very much not herer. "I'm no expert myself, but there can be a lot of differentiation with spirits." Full moon visiting is new but he's sure in a book somewhere.

"In any case, you name the location and let me know ahead of time, I'll be there. And no one else will know." He can promise that much.

Hearing Héctor speak of his and his wife's amount of experience with spirits boosts Emille's hopes by the slightest amount, much to her dismay. She's been telling herself that there was no chance that this would work, but she cannot help but wish for the best. It's her weakness showing itself again.

Even so, this is a chance that she cannot pass up, and she is grateful that he is even willing to help her. She owes him one for going along with this.

"The next full moon is on Monday, March 9." She does not hesitate in providing this information, as she has those particular dates memorized. "I will be isolating myself that day, but if you would like to visit my dorm room sometime after nine that night, you can show me what you are capable of."

Emille takes a small notebook and pen out of her jacket pocket, flips it open, and scribbles on it. Removing that page from the notebook and holding it out for Héctor, she continues: "If you have TA duty that evening, please come when you are able. Even if it is past midnight, I will be waiting for you."

On the slip of paper, March 9. Savant 212. is neatly printed in crisp, black ink.

He probably shouldn't raise her hopes so much. His ability to speak with the dead is largely circumstantial. To make a date for all of this and let her down feels like it would be really terrible.

At the least, he does know that if she's there, he'll see her and here her. And besides that, he does have a few tricks.

"Late night is preferable to me anyway," He admits with a wry smile. "I'm not really available in the day, work or no." He takes the slip of paper from her hands and nods his head.

"In any case, I'll be there. You have my word. I hope I can help you then." Somehow.

She really does know that little, if anything, will be accomplished that night. But Emille senses something different about Héctor, something that those who tried to help her from Murakumo lacked.

"Thank you, Sir Héctor," she nods, though with a slight lift of a corner of her mouth that could be mistaken for the smallest hint of a smile. Maybe. "I do appreciate your willingness to assist a virtual stranger with a familial issue."

Almost as if she was aware of what was happening, Emille's frame is surrounded by a faint blue for the smallest, blink-and-you'll-miss-it nanosecond. Emille herself didn't notice it. But there's no way she could know, is there?

He brings his hands up and almost tells her that "just Héctor" is fine, but he catches that almost-smile. With all the people he's grown close to, keeping such things even closer to their chest, he doesn't think he could miss it. His expression softens and his hands go down.

"De nada, Emille. Anything for family, right?"

He definitely knows that. He knows that just as well as death.

He catches that bit of blue and smiles.

"Indeed," she finds herself agreeing. Almost too much for family, honestly, but something is always better than nothing.

Emille notices Héctor's smile and assumes it's in conjunction with his previous comment. Though she is glad to see him finally smile after all, considering the frown he's carried through most of their conversation.

"I hope you are able to enjoy the rest of the evening, and I also hope to see you around campus." She nods to punctuate the veracity of her statement, to hopefully prove they are not merely empty words.

"Gracias," He says, nodding in turn. "I'll do my best. And I hope to see you as well."

He does feel a little better. The chance to help someone else means he can forget his own problems for a little while. The chance to doing something good means feeling a little less sorry for himself than before.

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VALENTINES BALL

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guess she'll be seeing Héc tomorrow night, then? haha

BELATED BUT YEAH do you want to log it/have me incorporate into a log/inbox this/other?

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/wrap