[COMPLETE] THE MADEMOISELLE'S BANQUET (December Mafia)—GAME THREAD

[Inkedust]

In the whiteness of the void, there is nothingness. No sight, no sound, no touch, not even yourself. In fact you, yourself, are nothing. There is a warped sense of comfort to it, so you continue to drift, ready to fade away.

But then, there was something.

A feeble tendril of existence gently caresses your nonexistent being, beckoning you to follow it towards that something. And as you do, the growing sensation of pins and needles dances across your nebulous form, melting the numbness away. Continuing further, the whiteness of the void begins to blacken until you are left in darkness, engulfed by the coldness of a hard floor.

Seconds tick by as you are roused by the placid passage of a draft, the muffled sound of a distant waterfall, and perhaps, the feeling of something tied around your neck, that makes a small jingling sound whenever you move.

Picking yourself up from gleaming mahogany floors, you quickly realise that you're in some kind of mansion, the entrance hall not far off. If you try to go deeper into the hallways, you will quickly find yourself lost amongst its twists and turns. Perhaps now would be the best time to investigate yourself as you might notice that things are a little different about yourself. Wandering through the entrance hall, you might notice a few things such as the way outside being completely blocked off to you—no matter how hard you jostle them, the doors and windows will not budge, appearing moulded to the walls—or other wandering pokémon, looking just as confused as you.

The only place you can really go is the dining hall, located just beyond a flight of stairs. Entering the grand room, you are greeted by a large table covered in all sorts of cuisine, a pair of glass doors that lead to a balcony with the view of an immense waterfall, and a grandfather clock ticking away. Before the doors lies a small stand with some kind of gameboard on it, each glass piece being a miniature figure of the pokémon you might've encountered during your exploration of the building, and an ornate, silver box sits below some kind of perch.

As your investigations come to an end, you are left with a simple question:

What to do?​

---

The game has officially entered the pregame phase! Feel free to roleplay and interact with each other. This part of the game is entirely optional, so don't feel pressured to do so if you don't want to.

Roles and alignments have not been distributed yet and any roleplay/character flavour will not affect said role and alignment. That's up for RNGesus to decide.​

Signups will remain open until November 30th, 12AM UTC. Night 0 will begin December 1st, 12AM UTC.​

 

[Fusion]

Zen opened his eyes, letting out a somewhat dazed grunt as he sat himself up. He would have been surprised to wake up in an unsettling mansion, but that wasn't too far off from resting in a mystery dungeon and waking on another floor, honestly. Still, the left over nausea of unconscious transportation wasn't any more tolerable with experience.

He thought he was the first to awaken, and didn't care as much about the others well-being as he cared about getting rid of this annoying nausea before long. Just some water would be fine, he thought.

He shuffled his way to the dining hall, careful not to stumble on the stairs, grabbed himself a glass of water, and leaned against one of the walls. It helped, moderately. Far better than just waiting this out. The quiet was also quite appreciated, so Zen figured he should take it in as long as he could while he still had the chance. Something was telling him he was going to miss it fairly soon.

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

"Well, I've certainly had better teleportation experiences," Steven muttered to himself as his surroundings melted into view.

Blinking for a moment to allow the lingering nausea to pass, Steven found himself standing in the entrance hall of the so-called "Mystifying Mansion", the location of the banquet he was to be attending. He looked around, taking in the moody atmosphere, with dim chandeliers and flickering candelabras. Standard chateau fare, if he was being honest. He sniffed dismissively as he wandered through the entry hall. Frankly, he expected better from his hosts, given their claim of it being the "banquet of a lifetime". Things were rather... quiet. Perhaps he was just early. No matter. Despite being a busy man, he'd set aside the time. "It had better be worth it," he thought.

Just ahead he spotted warmer light coming from another doorway. Maybe that's where the other guests had gathered. Anyone there was surely a sensible person, early as they were, and he wouldn't mind some sensible conversation right about now. He moved to straighten his cravat lest the unpleasant teleportation experience have ruffled his appearance, but when he raised his hands into view, he paused.

Those were not his hands. In fact, they weren't hands at all. Two jet-black fins greeted him, each rimmed with gleaming blue steel and three golden claws. Slowly, Steven turned his hands over, and the flippers mimicked the motion, the steel edges glinting dangerously in the dim light.

"Hmm," he hummed, looking down at the rest of himself. "What an interesting illusion."

Gone were his polished black shoes and the tailored lines of his suit. A glance at his reflection in some nearby glass confirmed it. Head to toe, the whole of him had been replaced with the body of an Empoleon. Unexpected, but not shocking. He'd seen some illusions in his day, some more convincing than others. This one was especially well done. He looked himself over; no detail had been spared. He well and truly looked like the well-known Sinnohan breed. Maybe his was the "mystifying" part of the banquet. A masquerade party with full-on illusions in place of paltry masks. Needless to say, he was impressed. Not just by the quality of the illusion, but his host had taste as well. If he were to be a pokemon, Empoleon was not a choice he would have thought of himself, but it suited him. A fine selection. Perhaps this party would be worth his while after all.

Steven made his way into the dining room and took in the fine spread. Memories of the empty foyer were banished as it seemed their host had not spared any expense. Still, though, the room wasn't as populated as he'd expected. A stately Bisharp was there, enjoying a glass of refreshment from the edge of the room.

"Not a bad idea," Steven thought, and stepped toward the table that held the champagne flutes.

But as he closed his hand around the glass and lifted it from the table, it slipped from his hand and shattered against the floor. The sound echoed through the quiet room. Startled, Steven drew back, staring first at his upturned hand, and then at the mess on the floor. Normally it would have been an embarrassing gaffe, but instead a new sensation swept over him...

He'd only felt the glass with three fingers, three claws.

His hand... It wasn't his hand anymore. This illusion? He had a sinking feeling it wasn't an illusion after all...

 

[Fusion]

Zen would have kept quiet, and frankly he considered the option still, but whatever good will he had got the better of him.

"Are you well, Empoleon?" he asked, not bothering to make his way over to the penguin. His "good will" could only push him so far, after all, and if this Pokemon was panicking, approaching him might be ill advised.

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

Zen would have kept quiet, and frankly he considered the option still, but whatever good will he had got the better of him.

"Are you well, Empoleon?" he asked, not bothering to make his way over to the penguin. His "good will" could only push him so far, after all, and if this Pokemon was panicking, approaching him might be ill advised.

Steven's head snapped in the direction of the voice, and his eyes narrowed. Of course the Bisharp would have noticed.

"I wasn't cut, if that's what you're insinuating," he said, drawing himself up to his full Empoleon height. It still didn't hold a candle to the Bisharp's stature, that much was clear even from a distance. In his indignation, Steven became aware of the unsettling sensation of his feathers fluffing up. He nearly shivered. He shouldn't have feathers.

The fleeting thought of whether this Bisharp was also a person trapped in the body of a pokemon crossed his mind, but he held his tongue. No sense in potentially saying something ridiculous in front of another guest. No one at a proper masquerade ever pried at the identity of their fellow party-goers.

There was little he could do to save his dignity at this point, but at least the anonymity of this body lessened the blow. He carefully selected a larger glass from the table, easier to handle in his newfound hands. He wasn't going to apologize, someone would come by to clean up the glass. Instead, he raised a casual toast to the Bisharp. "Here's to the rest of the evening being... smoother."

The glass lightly clinked against his beak as he drank, and again he had to bury his unease. To freak out now would be... unbecoming. Besides, the Bisharp was clearly okay with their arrangements at this banquet.

Steven watched the liquid swirl in his glass. No sense in letting the silence and past embarrassment linger. He stepped past the broken glass and paused in front of the glass doors that lead outside. Glancing over at the Bisharp still watching him from the edge of the room, he asked the question that had been lingering ever since he arrived.

"It seems rather empty here... I suspect we're early, but have you met anyone else yet?"

 

[Fusion]

"I wasn't cut, if that's what you're insinuating," he said, drawing himself up to his full Empoleon height. It still didn't hold a candle to the Bisharp's stature, that much was clear even from a distance. In his indignation, Steven became aware of the unsettling sensation of his feathers fluffing up. He nearly shivered. He shouldn't have feathers.

Zen watched the penguin for a moment longer, then shook his head. Empoleon, or whatever his name is, didn't look comfortable in his own skin. Or, feathers, rather. "No, I was not expecting you to have cut yourself. Being an Empoleon, that would have been nearly impossible to do on accident. But, I know that unconscious transportation has a history of making others nauseous. It would be wise to pace yourself with the food."

He drank more of his water, then exhaled softly. "And, again, no. I have not seen anyone else. I believe I was the first, but when I came to, my mind and my vision were too clouded to check my surroundings. Even know, I would rather not move about too much."

Zen felt lucky, having a more composed individual join him so early. Aside from the fumbling of the glass, of course. The thought to introduce himself properly crossed his mind, but he remembered this was a "Masquerade," one of those parties where the rich and wealthy pretended to be someone else. He didn't want to be rude, but at the same time, he hardly cared. Whoever brought him here didn't seem to either, dropping him like an unwanted sack on the floor.

"It may seem informal for this sort of event, but some sort of introductions are in order. I am Zen, were we meeting in different circumstances, I would consider this a pleasure."

 

[windskull]

Anti-Bravoman was not having a good time. His head felt unbalanced, none of his powers - not even his faulty grasp over meta - were working. His legs were missing, and - worst of all - he was smaller than ever before. He stared at his new, ectoplasmic hands, his mind swirling with anxiety. Perhaps, under normal circumstances, he'd be able to look at his transformation and the lavish decorations of the mansion he found himself in and be able to make something deep and poetic out of it. But something about this situation left him uneasy and sent chills through his body.

The sound of shattering glass caught his attention. Anti lifted his head and, after a moment of figuring out how to move, made his way towards the sound.

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

"No, I was not expecting you to have cut yourself. Being an Empoleon, that would have been nearly impossible to do on accident. But, I know that unconscious transportation has a history of making others nauseous. It would be wise to pace yourself with the food."

He drank more of his water, then exhaled softly. "And, again, no. I have not seen anyone else. I believe I was the first, but when I came to, my mind and my vision were too clouded to check my surroundings. Even know, I would rather not move about too much."

Steven bristled as the Bisharp spoke. Was he being taken for an idiot? Of course an Empoleon couldn't be cut so easily. He'd said that as a joke. Or had he? He was rattled, and he was mad that the Bisharp noticed. He was also mad at himself. He was better than this... He expected better of himself. Besides, he'd hardly even considered the food. Only amateurs ran straight to the buffet table at parties like this.

Speaking of amateurs, the Bisharp must not have known how to handle teleportation if the trip had left them so dazed when they arrived.

"It may seem informal for this sort of event, but some sort of introductions are in order. I am Zen, were we meeting in different circumstances, I would consider this a pleasure."

Steven huffed and regarded the Bisharp, who he now knew as Zen, down the tip of his beak. Definitely an amateur. But whatever, they were friendly enough. No sense in making enemies, not when they were all locked in here together. Whoever "everyone" meant. He took another sip of his drink --red wine, nice and dry, some fruity notes, not a bad vintage-- and promptly chose to not introduce himself. If Zen ever needed to know who he was, he'd tell them then.

Instead he nodded once and replied, "I'm sure it would be."

He turned back toward the glass doors and regarded the pedestal of objects set up in front of them. But before he could properly inspect each one, the movement of a reflection in the glass caught his attention. He turned around and spotted something, no someone, floating into the room. Floating. Of course. A ghost. Just great.

 

[Fusion]

It wasn't hard to tell that this Empoleon was already sizing Zen up. It wasn't the first time some snooty one-percent profile looked down at Zen at first glance, and he was positive it wouldn't be the last. And that tone of voice in response... Gods, it was just more of the same here. His expression fell, disappointed, and turned to the ghost in the room.

...

There was a ghost in the room. He shouldn't be surprised, well, "surprised," but such was things. "Greetings," he gave a polite bow to the spirit. "I am Zen."

 

[Sinderella]

Scritscritscritscritscrit.

A teeny shadow, probably no bigger than the size of a standard basketball, shot down one of the walls and zipped along the mahogany floor. It traveled down to the front door, and up to the doorknob, where the sound of it being jostled echoed throughout the vast foyer. A low hiss sounded from the shadow, as it trekked back down the door and toward the wall it had initially spawned from. However, it didn't get very far before it neared the shattered champagne glass, which it started circling frantically. It wasn't long before it stopped near one of the shards that had bounced a ways away. From the shadow rose crudely-sewn faux Pikachu head. There were clear purple patches sewn into it, and more became visible as the entirety of its little body rose from the floor.

The Mimikyu stared intently at the shard for a long, long time. It almost looked like it had been entranced. Just when it seemed like the tiny 'mon was frozen in place, a shadowy hand spawned from under its cloak, and promptly swatted the shard across the floor. The force of the hit sent it flying into a pillar, and the shard embedded itself into the dully painted foundation.

Not home. Not Alola. Not Kalos.

Nice tiny girl...gone?

Bad. Very, very bad.

The Mimikyu hissed before sinking back into the floor and scrambling under a nearby decorative table.

 

[ShiniGojira]

Litno stirred awake with a dazed groan, his mind groggy and fuzzy from the unexpected teleportation.

Was this how his trainer had felt when he was first transported to the Pokémon world?

Arceus, he felt like he was gonna puke all over the floor.

He blinked the spots out of his vision, noticing his unfamiliar surroundings and his predicament at being all by himself.

Well, that wasn't true. There were definitely other Pokémon around him, but none that he was familiar with.

The Goomy tried to spot any of his teammates around the room but couldn't see anyone he knew.

Around this time, he was getting a bit nervous.

Did they not make it with him? Or were they already exploring the place?

He gulped, his heartbeat hastened and he moved towards a nearby room, trying to find his trainer.

He neared the door, hearing two voices talking to one another.

The sound of breaking glass made him shrink away in fear, quickly and stealthilty making way under a nearby table to hide from the two.

 

[Seren]

Something was wrong.

Where previously there had been earth beneath his feet, there now was some hard, shiny material. For the shortest of moments, Diamond's excitement grew; had he - finally - successfully pulled off faint attack?

But as quickly as it came, the moment passed, and the sableye was left with only one question; How did I get here? Surely, if he had managed to perform the move, he'd have arrived in a place of darkness, free to emerge back into wherever he desired. But he had never entered that dark place. He still hadn't managed to use the technique at all. No, he had simply appeared here.

Frustration gripped him now, and he resisted the urge to shout and attack something. He had to learn this technique eventually! Hell, he had learned to heal himself! What was he doing wrong? Perhaps it was time he asked the human for assistance after all. It had already been so long since-

Wait. The human. Diamond's attention returned to his new location. It appeared to be some sort of human building, much like the mansion his humans - his former humans, not his current one - resided in, but brighter. Neither the human who called himself Diamond's trainer, nor his mate, seemed to be within sight. Not for the first time recently, Diamond felt the stirrings of anxiety. Sure, he could manage without his so-called trainer. He'd been the leader of his own pack! Still, the unfamiliar territory coupled with the mystery of how he got there did indeed trouble him.

A sound - shattering glass? Yes, he's definitely heard that before. Well, he couldn't faint attack yet, but he could still hide in the shadows...

And so he did, all the way to the source of the noise. So, the mansion wasn't abandoned after all. Still, it was a curious sight. A couple other pokemon - not even ghosts - casually stood around, sipping water. Neither of them looked particularly at home in this setting, especially the large blue one. So then, what were they doing? Why were they here?

While he debated the merits of attempting to get information out of him, another sensation arose. A presence. There was another ghost here, somewhere. Diamond could sense some other aura as well, but could not pinpoint what energy it was, nor where it was coming from. Surely the other ghost would have sensed his presence, too. Perhaps it would be more beneficial to remain hidden and observe, after all.

 

[Fusion]

Zen kept off to the side as more Pokemon showed up. He didn't know what he was expecting, but this felt like a decent sized crowd. He never was one to spend too much time with strangers, after all.

Instead of introducing himself again, he waited and watched. If he was going to be spending a substantial amount of time with these characters, he'd prefer to see what he's dealing with before associating himself with too many. The Empoleon already seemed to not be worth the trouble, but who knows, maybe he's only snooty and uptight on the weekends.

...What day was it?

 

[Flyg0n]

Hana blinked, then blinked again. Her body tingled, and her vision felt as if she were peering through glass. Rose colored glass. Wait, where was she-?

Muddled memories returned to her, of a strange invitation, and then something... something in-between. And now here. In... She took a look around. As far as she could tell, the area looked like some kind of mansion. Right... for a banquet? A game? Something like that. But when did she even get here?

Still feeling dazed, she decided to take a look around - Oh. All other thoughts ground to a halt as awareness of her body trickled in. Oh. She flexed her hands- no, claws now. Suddenly the rosy colors of everything made completely since. A sharp laugh escaped her. Of all the pokemon... a Flygon. She briefly wondered if perhaps this was somehow the work of a legendary, playing some strange trick. Or this was a very vivid hallucination...

In a dreamlike daze, she wandered through the halls, stumbling awkwardly as she tried to adjust herself to her new body.

By the time she reached what appeared to be some sort of dining hall, she felt comfortable enough to at least walk straight. So, there were other Pokemon here too... Were they like her? Humans, somehow given a new form?

 

[Inkedust]

As each "guest" regains their bearings and convenes in the dining hall after the, frankly, uncomfortable journey, the grandfather clock ticks idly by, uninterested in panicked affairs of the mansion's new inhabitants.

Then, the hour hand struck twelve.

The steady ticking halted in its tracks, leaving only the drumming sound of the cascading waterfall behind. If one were to look outside at this point, they could see the distant silhouette of a figure flying towards them. However, the brief window of time was unceremoniously broken by the powerful chimes of the now-frozen clock. The mansion's foundations shook and convulsed with each drawn-out chime, causing the tall glass doors leading outside to rattle.

Seconds, minutes, perhaps even hours—it was impossible to tell—passed before the immense doors flew open, allowing them to usher in the once distant figure who now settled on the fine, silver perch. With the full-view of their host in sight, everyone could gaze upon her feathery cloak of red and black feathers; a pair of immense wings; her crown of horns; a silver mane that billowed in an unfelt breeze; and the pair of stormy, grey eyes that offered an intense stare. Those familiar with the being would recognise her as the legendary pokémon, Yveltal.

But Yveltal she was not. No, she was the host of this little party, the director in this quest for vengeance. She was the Mademoiselle.

She eyed the gathered crowd intensively before a glint of disappointment swept through her features. "Is that it?" she demanded to no one in particular.

---

Spoiler: Player List+Pings

PLAYER LIST​

CHARACTER​	SPECIES​	PLAYER​
Loïc​	Mimikyu​	@Sinderella​
Diamond​	Sableye​	@Seren​
Anti Bravoman​	Phantump​	@windskull​
Steven Stone​	Empoleon​	@Panoramic_Vacuum​
Zen​	Bisharp​	@Fusion​
Hana​	Flygon​	@Flyg0n​
Dianne​	Diancie​	@ArielDiancie​
Litno​	Goomy​	@ShiniGojira​
Salem Weir​	Purrloin​	@unrepentantAuthor​
May Victoria Wallace​	Meowstic​	@Dragonfree​
Neo​	Espeon​	@HelloYellow17​

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

Finding the late arrivals of the ghost and the awkward Flygon to be less than entertaining, Steven turned his attention back to the fine pedestal and small crystal game pieces arranged nearby. Peering close, he had just begun to stretch out one clawed hand to inspect one of the game pieces up close when a sudden silence washed across the room. Steven paused, then nearly leaped out of his skin as an earth-rattling gong rang out from the grandfather clock at the head of the room.

Steven stumbled backward, at first thinking he'd triggered some kind of alarm system by tampering with the fine crystal, but clock rang eleven times more, shaking the mansion each time, and no more. He rested a fin across his breast to still his racing heart. My god, was it the host's intent to scare them half to death before the banquet even began!? He glared at the pedestal as if it were the one responsible, only to realize a shape was approaching the house from beyond the glass doors.

Backing up even further, Steven gave the doors a wide berth just as they burst open. A winged shadow swooped in and landed where he'd been standing mere moments earlier. As the shadow became visible in the chandelier's light, Steven tipped his head ever so slightly and hid a grin behind his glass. How amusing, their host was the god of death herself. He couldn't deicide if the audacity was ridiculous or admirable.

The Yveltal stared at each of them in turn, but rather than wither beneath her glare, Steven met her gaze with a confident smirk, lowering his glass so she could see his full expression. Just like any masquerade, there was no reason to hide when one wore a disguise. He only hoped his signature smile translated on an Empoleon's features. Nonetheless, he was more than familiar with intimidation tactics, and whatever their host could throw at him, he could return tenfold.

He settled in comfortably for the opening speech that was sure to follow such a grand entrance, but instead, what the Mademoiselle said nearly made him laugh aloud.

She eyed the gathered crowd intensively before a glint of disappointment swept through her features. "Is that it?" she demanded to no one in particular.

The sound of Steven coughing in an effort to hide his laugh echoed in the silence of her wake. "Forgive my forwardness, Madam, but I'm inclined to agree with you for a multitude of reasons."

 

[Dragonfree]

May's head was spinning. She pushed her hands against the hard floor she was lying on, and... they were shorter than they should be.

She blinked at the blue paws under her. What...?

As soon as her brain clunked back into place, a cold chill ran down her spine, and she scrambled to her feet, examining her body. She was... she'd turned into... a Meowstic?

She sucked in a breath, looking wildly around. A mansion? Something hooked vaguely in her memory. A mansion. She'd gotten this weird invitation to a banquet, something she'd vaguely assumed was a Pokémon trainer thing, and... Was this it?

More importantly, how the heck was she a Pokémon.

She had no time to wonder before a deafening clock-chime followed by the arrival of... Yveltal?

She wasn't Mark with his encyclopedic knowledge of every legendary Pokémon, but she did know Yveltal was the legendary Pokémon of death. Another chill crept down her spine as she watched it, wary. Was this a dream? She tried to force her eyes open as hard as she could, but nothing happened.

Is that it? asked the legendary, as if nothing were more natural. May swallowed, looking around. A few other Pokémon were here; no humans. Were they all...?

 

[Fusion]

Is that it?

Zen should have expected the host of this gathering to be as posh as the Empoleon, but that didn't make him any less disappointed. Discontent was practically his default.

"From the looks of it, yes," he answered, maintaining an air of politeness with a slight bow. "Unless others have yet to wake, which I would assume too be the case. I'm not one to enjoy a crowd, but this place feels suspiciously empty."

He hoped there were more, if he had to stay in the same room with dazed Pokemon and the vain one-percent, Zen wouldn't know how long he would last before he strangled someone.

 

[Inkedust]

Mademoiselle studied the bisharp closely. "I see..." she mused, just barely keeping any signs of annoyance out of her voice. "It seems that the one I am looking for is not here. But seeing how much effort I put into this, I may as well see it through to the very end."

The sound of Steven coughing in an effort to hide his laugh echoed in the silence of her wake. "Forgive my forwardness, Madam, but I'm inclined to agree with you for a multitude of reasons."

Mademoiselle's gaze snapped onto the empoleon. "And would you care to explaining those reasons to me, Empoleon?"

 

[ShiniGojira]

The clock-chimes shook Litno down to his very core, both figuratively and literally.

He took in several breaths to calm himself, attempting to recover from the sudden shock.

The doors flung open, causing him to jerk into one of the table's legs, eliciting a surprised squeak from the slimy dragon.

He peeked from under his hiding spot, staring at the newcomer in shock.

A legendary?

His eyes widened, gulping at the sight of the Goddess of Death.

He knew what he had gotten himself into when he joined his trainer but he didn't think he'd be meeting a legendary this early.

Litno glanced at the two Steel-types, noticing how they were meeting the Mademoiselle's stare with their own.

He wondered whether he should just brave up and introduce himself to the host, if only to just be polite.

He could feel his heart quickened as he thought about talking to another Pokémon, a stranger.

Maybe I'll just wait till they notice me.

He made his presence as small as possible, for once thanking his small size as he opted to hide and observe the spectacle.