The invitation arrived on a silver platter carried by a vine.
> To the Engineer,
>
> Tonight, we celebrate beauty. Do not wear grey. Do not smell like sulfur.
>
> If you ruin the aesthetic of my party, I will feed you to the hydrangeas.
>
> — Valerius
"I hate parties," Taylor groaned, holding the card. "Socializing is inefficient. It requires small talk, awkward dancing, and fake smiles. I prefer blueprints."
[System Message: Socializing is a necessary evil. Think of it as 'Networking'. Or 'Reconnaissance'. Also, please wash your hair. You smell like gunpowder and stress.]
"I smell like progress," Taylor corrected.
***
[The Dress Code Disaster]
The first problem was the wardrobe. Taylor only owned work trousers, boots, and oil-stained shirts.
"We need formal wear," Taylor announced. "Luna! What do we have?"
Luna rummaged through a dusty trunk.
"I found... this," Luna said, holding up a dress. It was... interesting. It was neon pink, covered in ruffles, and had massive shoulder pads.
"It looks like a flamingo exploded," Taylor stated. "I cannot wear that. I need something structural. Something elegant. Something that says 'I build bridges, but I can also ruin your life'."
Violet stepped out of the shadows. She was holding a bundle of black silk.
"I made this," Violet whispered.
She unfolded it. It was a sleek, black evening gown. It was simple, form-fitting, and had a high collar. It looked dangerous.
"It has hidden pockets," Violet added, pulling a dagger from a fold in the skirt. "For knives. Or wrenches."
"Violet," Taylor smiled. "You are my favorite sister. Ren! What are you wearing?"
Ren walked in. He was wearing... a suit of armor. But he had tied a bow tie around the neck of the breastplate.
"I am ready for formal combat," Ren declared.
"Ren, it's a party. Not a siege. Take off the helmet."
"But what if the hors d'oeuvres attack?"
***
[The Arrival]
The group arrived at Valerius's castle in a carriage Taylor had "upgraded" with leaf springs for better suspension.
The garden was breathtaking. Bioluminescent flowers glowed in the twilight. Vines formed intricate archways. A fountain sprayed water that sparkled like diamonds.
"It is... actually beautiful," Taylor admitted. "Inefficient biological energy usage, but aesthetically pleasing."
Viscount Valerius stood at the top of the stairs. He was wearing a suit made entirely of white peacocks feathers.
"Welcome!" Valerius spread his arms. "To the Sanctuary of Style!"
He spotted Taylor in her black dress.
He froze.
"Black?" Valerius gasped. "You wore Black to a Garden Party? It is the color of death! Of void! Of... hopelessness!"
"It is the color of Carbon," Taylor replied coolly. "The building block of all life. Including your flowers."
Valerius paused. He tilted his head.
"Carbon..." he mused. "The diamond in the rough... the charred remains of passion... Hmmm. Very well. It is... chic. 8 points."
***
[The Social Engineering]
Inside, the party was in full swing. Nobles were sipping nectar and gossiping about pollen.
"Ren," Taylor whispered. "Do not get lost. Stay by the buffet."
"Understood," Ren nodded. He turned left toward a potted plant. "Is this the buffet?"
"No, Ren. That is a fern. The food is over there."
"The fern looks delicious though."
Taylor left Ren to argue with the salad and went to find Ria.
Ria was already in the kitchen (she had snuck in).
"My Angel!" Ria whispered, popping up from behind a stack of cheese wheels. "I have infiltrated the enemy food supply! Their canapés are soggy! Their tartlets lack crunch! I must save this party!"
"Ria, no cooking battles yet. Just... observe."
"Too late," Ria growled, eyeing a chef who was arranging fruit. "He is cutting the melon wrong. It is an insult to the fruit. I must correct him."
***
[The Dance of Danger]
"May I have this dance?"
Taylor turned around. Valerius was extending a gloved hand.
"I don't dance," Taylor said. "I calculate trajectories."
"Then calculate the trajectory of your feet," Valerius smirked. "Unless you are afraid you will step on my toes with your... industrial boots?"
Taylor looked down. She was indeed wearing her steel-toed work boots under the gown.
"Fine," Taylor accepted his hand.
They moved to the dance floor. The music was a waltz played by living violins (literally, the instruments had leaves).
"You are planning something," Valerius whispered as he spun her. "I can smell the sulfur on you. Even under the perfume."
"And you are planning something," Taylor shot back. "I saw the giant flytraps near the gate. Are they for decoration? or disposal?"
"Both," Valerius smiled. It was a sharp, dangerous smile. "Beauty requires feeding, my dear Engineer. And tonight... the garden is very hungry."
He dipped her.
As Taylor leaned back, she saw something hanging from the ceiling. A massive, pulsating green pod directly above the dance floor.
"What is that?" Taylor asked.
"A surprise," Valerius pulled her back up. "For midnight. I call it... 'The Pollen of Truth'. It reveals the inner nature of everyone it touches."
[System Message: Pollen of Truth? Sounds like a hallucinogen. Or a truth serum. Or just really bad allergies. I suggest you don't breathe at midnight.]
"Ren!" Taylor hissed into her earpiece (a primitive copper wire device). "Get the saltpeter ready. Midnight is going to be explosive."
"I cannot," Ren's voice crackled back. "I am currently dueling a waiter. He tried to take my fork."
[Ding!]
[Quest Updated: Survive the Party]
[Time until Midnight: 30 Minutes]
[Current Status: Awkward Dancing]
---