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RULES:

This is THE SPRING MASQUERADE EVENT! It will run from 11am PST to 5pm PST on February 27th, 2024. Not sure what time that is in your time zone? Try this handy dandy time zone converter

All are welcome. You do not need to stay for the entire event - feel free to drop in for however long you can.

We hope to see a variety of characters, an inclusive atmosphere, and an ever-changing cast to interact with. We strongly encourage you to make a new, anonymous character to attend with! The setting is near-future zombie apocalypse survivors.

You may attend with any of your existing characters if you really want to -- All characters will be required to wear a mask IC, and be set to anonymous, but those are the only restrictions - bring me your space captains, bizarre aliens, devoted scientists and starry-eyed adventurers! All characters are welcome, provided they don't destroy the venue.

When the masquerade event is over, the masks come off! Everybody can announce who they played after the event ends, so that you can connect with your newfound friends and disappear down the plot bunny's tunnel to make new stories.

Please read the below setting post for IC context.

IC STARTING POST:

There was very little true life left in The Big City, a place overrun by the living dead. True, it was full of temptations -- precious supplies, salvage, even moments of nostalgia for those brave enough to venture inside and claim it. But most who did? Never returned.

This wasn't inside of the Big City, but at its edges. The tall towers of the Big City were in sight, but in this area, it was mostly low, squat, warehouse buildings, and rusted over industrial manufacturies. It was the far edges of the Big City. And here, there was a warehouse.

The warehouse had been converted to a veritable fortress, surrounded by two layers of chain link fencing with wooden stakes bristling outward between them. There is a path through the spikes and traps, easy enough for a bona fide human (or human-like intelligence) to avoid, but near impossible for a zombie to navigate without winding up impaled, trapped, or shot by the sentries.

The windows of the first floor are boarded over. But for those who looked closely, they might have spotted snipers peering out from third floor windows, keeping watch for the approach of lone shamblers or crushing hordes.

On this particular day, the interior of the warehouse was brightly candle-lit with paper lanterns hanging from the high ceiling. The crates had been shoved against the walls to create a dance floor in the center of the space, which was being provided a beat by a group of bucket drummers. And rarest of rarities -- a makeshift buffet was set up against the far wall.

The invites had gone out with runners, or been scrawled on overpasses, country billboards, the sides of the handful of pickup trucks that still ran. A gathering. A celebration. Something to bring the survivors together and cheer them, maybe to stoke some fire for the idea of rebuilding a real civilization?

The hostess, Hana, waited at the door of the warehouse, nervously fingering her parasol. Would any brave the journey to attend this summit of survivors?

He descended down with a mighty leap towards the warehouse. His heavy armor, greatsword, and houndskull bascinet looking quite anachronistic in this setting... But it only lends to telling an unspoken tale about his age. Afterall, who can kill a shadow?

The wolf man looked around cautiously, ready to send a wave of deadly ice magic on any undead nearby.

Hana turned to look at the Masked Shadow. Her gaze showed immediate approval as she took in his armor and sword, rather than surprise. Perhaps she simply assumed he'd took the wise precaution of looting a museum when it all went down. Maybe she imagined he was once part of an SCA group in the Before Times. Whatever she thinks, she flashes him a toothy grin. "Welcome, traveler. I salute your bravery and spirit in coming."

He suddenly turned to her, drawing his cold, icy blade out.

"Hmph. You were the one that left that invite, I imagine?"

Hana stopped in her approach, her eyes narrowing. "I, or my agents... Why do you draw your sword on me, traveler?" Her hand moved toward her belt, hovering near the hilt of her knife.

"You startled me. Its better to be safe than sorry in this world, no?" He says as he puts his sword back on his back. "Apologies."

Hana nodded, pressing her lips together in an understanding grimace. "We are all on edge. It is the state of being." Her hand left her belt, instead gesturing up toward the snipers on the third story of the warehouse, and on the roof. "But be assured, you are safe here, if anywhere at all is safe. We are well prepared for this day."

*walks in*

The Fairy had just managed to escape a group of zombies, before arriving at the warehouse.

He carefully floated down to the ground, but didn't land, as his boots were not meant for walking, just hovering slightly above the ground.

The fairy didn't seem to be human, but a robot created by someone. He carefully placed his hand on a flower on the side of his head, seeming to be some kind of hidden communication advice.

"I'm here, Nii-san." He stated lowly, "I will let you know more information about the place when I enter."

He let his hand off of the flower and approached the warehouse closer.

He jumps as he sees the two new entries to the building, instinctively grabbing his sword once more, before relaxing and sheathing it. "... Apologies. Force of habit."

Seeing more folks arrive, Hana gestured for them to step past her and into the decorated warehouse interior. "Welcome, welcome. Please, come inside and enjoy our hospitality."

There's a trio of firm knocks on the underside of a nearby sewer grate or drainage cover nearby. Then again. Then a nervous voice asks "Is, is this the right place? I hear voices." After a beat and the sound of something thumping against the metal the voice comes again "Does someone have a crowbar?"

Someone, wearing a dirty pink shawl with tropical flowers on it, likely affiliated with Hana and her faction, rushes from the side of the building and to the grate, moving to pull it up and offering a hand to whoever was down there. "This is it," he says. "Come on up."

The Fairy smiled a mouth filled with shark-like teeth and nodded as he passed by Hana, floating into the warehouse.

"I'm in the building, Nii-San." He said to the person on the other side of his communication device.
"Uhh, good. Whee hee hee, and I didn't even have to leave my hideout!" The person, seeming to be a male voice, replied.

"... Where did you find all of these things?" He asks. "I haven't seen anything like this since the land fell into this accursed state..."

As the first guests enter the warehouse, the bucket drummers start up. Such a racket, so close to the Big City, is more than a little bold -- such noise could alert any walkers in the area and bring them shambling after the vibrations. On the upper stories and the roof, the snipers ready themselves to make sure the party goers stay safe.

A ghost of a smile flickers across Hana's scarred face, nodding to Masked Shadow. "We have spent months scrounging and trading to prepare. Me and my people felt it was too long since we were all united. So many of us have been lone survivors too long, almost forgetting what it is to have allies."

The Shadow was shocked. "Hm.... That must have taken a great deal of effort! I applaud thee for your hard work for these festivities."

It seems he not only dresses like a knight, but talks like one too.

(Alright, I'm back.)

*walks in silently*

The Fairy looked around at all the decorations, his sensors picking up the sound and vibrations of the bucket drummers.

He was a bit disappointed that Nii-San, whoever that might be, refused to attend because there would be too many people there. But he didn't dwell on it too long.

Despite the dirt and dust that was on his gear, the bright white still stood out, and his flaming, blue hair illuminated the dim, paper lantern lit building, slightly.