Setting: Grand Ballroom
Time: The very beginning of Night 20
Summary: Happy birthday, Dollsy! It's party time, and all the monsters and ghosts have come out to play. Care to join them for a bit of wine and revelry?
Warnings: Ummm..... organs? Possible grossness? Graphic violence? A ton of people?
It was truly a fantastic sight to behold. For once, the Dollsyhouse found itself brimming with joy.
Even as the storm cut loose with all its fury outside, one simply could not help but notice the light and sound overflowing from the Grand Ballroom tonight. Warm, welcoming light as enormous chandeliers blazed away, glittering gold with the hundreds of butterflies that fluttered and danced through the room, high above and even down amongst the crowd. A large group of servants--butlers, judging by their attire--were gathered in an orchestra along with the grand piano, playing their instruments with an expert's polished skill. The music shifted and flowed to suit the mood, but all of it was upbeat and cheerful, a brilliant procession of energetic pieces meant to be danced to.
And dance they did; a crowd of ghosts glided and leapt and whirled on the ballroom floor, all dressed in elegant finery and bringing the music to life as they celebrated. They did so almost mindlessly, it seemed--nothing could touch them, nothing could disturb them, nothing could even draw their attention from this, as though they were barely even there, little more than shadows of spirits called back to tenuous existence by the music itself.
The musicians, too, looked incredibly odd. Finely dressed and politely-mannered thouogh they were, they presented a rather rough exterior beneath their suits--enormous, powerful bodies that would tower over and overpower even the largest and strongest humans, reaching seven or even eight feet tall, covered in coarse, gleaming black hair, and with horn-crested, glowing red-eyed goat heads perched on their shoulders, rather than normal human visages. These monstrous servants spoke not at all, save for grunts or bleats, merely tirelessly and excellently performing their duties.... whether those duties were to play music, or attend to the rest of their guests, as the majority seemed to be doing.
And many of those guests certainly seemed to need it. While the Burning Man and Mother Ghost could be seem dancing with the less sentient spirits--the two steamed with each other's touch, and glided about the floor while enveloped in that haze of mist, lending the scene a rather surreally romantic air--, not all of them were entirely capable of taking care of their own desires themselves. Some Goats carried about platters heaping with food, everything from salads and steaks, to eyeballs and human hearts, to cakes and candies, to carafes of wine and blood, circulating around the room to let guests take what they pleased. Some scurried about, tidying up dishes and any messes made by their clumsier guests, or waited by the door to bow in new guests and escort them to a free place, making sure they were comfortable. Some stood poised beside those who had particular difficulty with their meals, holding a wine glass for a Hellhound to press its snout into, or guiding a forkful of meat into a Chestmouth monster's blindly gaping mouth, or standing directly beneath a Wallcrawler as it hung upside down, the better to grab food with from the wall it clung to with its twisted rotting limbs. A few even thoughtfully set dog dishes on the table for their Hellhound guests, or plates beneath tables and chairs so that the Living Shadows could remain comfortably in the darkness while they ate.
Limited though he was to join in on the festivities, even the Faceless Mirror Man was attending, showing himself present in gleaming platters thoughtfully propped up in a few empty chairs, or peering out from the handles of silverware or the lid of the grand piano. Restless for lack of ability to eat or speak, he simply moved, flitting from surface to surface in the room so he could observe the party and his fellows.
Not all of the guests were so limited, however. A pack of Hellhounds frolicked and played to one side of the dance floor, while Winny gave them a wide berth as she chased the sparkling golden butterflies, accompanied by Allison. The girl occasionally picked her companion up and ran with her, lifting the kitten up higher to let her bat more energetically at the butterflies that seemed to always slip from between her paws at the last instant. The Hulking Cancer Man sat at a table with several Skinless companions, eating a long coil of intestines and grunting incoherently as it gestured, perhaps telling a story; the others listened intently, sampling strips of human flesh from their plates with raw fingers. Even the Art Enthusiast circulated about the room, though he could neither speak nor eat; he gestured animatedly and followed the other guests around, enjoying their company and occasionally pointing to platters with especially good dishes on them. Even incapable of eating as he was, his good taste seemed to be widely regarded as trustworthy, considering how often his recommendations were taken; if nothing else, he seemed to be having a good time.
There only seemed to be one person who simply could not share in that evening's delight. The Lonely Ghost Boy had found himself a chair against the wall, and sat curled up in it with a positively melancholy expression on his face. There was an almost palpable air of misery and loneliness and even despair about him, complemented by a generous handful of golden butterflies that fluttered about him and settled nearby on the chair and wall; he seemed to be too resigned to attempt to shoo them off, though he did shy away from the monsters as they passed. For the most part, he simply sat with his hands clasped in his lap, head bowed as he watched the celebration continue. Even in the midst of such pleasure and happiness, the light hardly seemed to reach him at all.
((OOC: Okay, guys, here's how this is going to work. As this is doubtless going to be a big thread, we are going to ask you to respond to comments instead of always responding to the entry, like you normally do, so we can have individual sub-threads in this thread. Thread-hopping is certainly allowed and encouraged, time is flexible here, etc. etc. The NPCs are here for flavor and background so you guys aren't just responding to each other in a vacuum--you certainly can interact with them, but they're here to serve you, not distract you from each other. Being that this is such a large thread as to warrant the sub-threads, there is no official posting order, and the three day rule will be in effect, meaning that if someone doesn't tag within three days, then people are permitted to skip them and move on. You can feel free to move around the NPCs if you wish; they're still monsters, obviously, but they're not hostile or doing the killing thing at the moment. We'll be watching this thread and poking our heads in if needed, and whenever someone gets hurt, to start the en masse massacre. You can also feel free to start an attic thread for everyone, if you want all the party-goers to resurrect at once. Any questions, just let us know!))