SPA TIME [closed]

[faderifting]

WHO: Beleth Ashara, Cassandra Pentaghast, Isabela, Rachette Dakal, Thranduil, Vivienne
WHAT: SPA TIME
WHEN: Kingsway 15
WHERE: Orlais (near Lydes)
NOTES: OOC plotting post

The famously exclusive spa at which the Grand Duchess Florianne is relaxing in luxurious treachery is Bains-les-chers, located on the coast near Lydes, across from Val Royeaux. Perched high on a rocky cliff, it is ideal for taking in the warm, salty breeze off the Waking Sea, considered to be good for one's health and complexion. Originally the summer escape of a royal cousin, the place is built almost entirely of white stone, with high walls on three sides and the sea on the fourth.

The palace itself is a large square around a huge central courtyard where the main spa facilities are located, and the ground level of the building is all open, made up more of pillars and curtains and pools than conventional rooms. Pristine fabric billows, bright sun filters through canopies, and the finest and most attractive masseuses in Thedas pad about the grounds in soft, silent sandals.

About a dozen nobles and their retainers occupy the various areas, alone or in small groups, lounging in warm pools, soaking in deep tubs, reclining on padded benches. Wine flows as freely as the springs that drew them here originally. It's a quiet place; guests are typically encouraged not to speak unless necessary, providing a respite from the constant babbling gossip of The Grand Game that fills the rest of the empire. Each visitor receives a suite of rooms in the upper level. Because of the large windows looking out over the courtyard and the surrounding landscape, they are less private than they sound, and noise carries far, as some have learned the hard way in the past.

Comments

[arlathvhen]

Beleth stares for a few shocked seconds at the duo, and just as she's forming the words to lecture the servant on her appalling lack of standards, there's a shout, and Beleth is being rudely shoved aside--see, servant girl?? See what noble men are like???--and the two are fleeing. She takes a moment to gather her thoughts, and try to commit the man's face to memory. If nothing else, she can take the information to Leliana for possible blackmail.

Once she...learns who he is. Makers damn these shemlen.

But now is not the time to reflect on the ills of man. She takes off, momentarily forgetting that she'd discovered the couple by being lost in the first place. Well, she might have no idea where she's going, but she's getting there at a fast clip, at least. She has no cleavage for hiding knives either, it's okay Thranduil, but with a quick glance around to make sure no one is witness to her act of impropriety, she hikes her skirt up to take the small knife that had been hidden far higher up her leg than she would have preferred. Fucking shemlen.

[visus]

Florianne, like any lady of fine breeding, has impressive poise. Enough poise, in fact, that she is able to progress from complete undress to “passable decency—”

Okay no she doesn’t, but there is a blouse and small clothes, and that will have to do. The rest of her belongings are shoved into a bag she snatches from a serving girl - who is unceremonious knocked into a giant fruit arrangement - and slung onto her shoulder, along with her bow.

The strike against the serving girl is a brutal one, but so too is it tactical; it sends pineapple spears cutting viciously through the air, leaving Thranduil accosted by tropical fruit. Other projectiles include but are not limited to citrus, melon, and more grapes than have ever been witnessed in such a battleground as this, leaving the ground a perilous landscape of squishy, slippery grape entrails. A couple of cherries, still on the stem, land rather perfectly on one of his ears.

Beleth unfortunately, lost lamb that she is, is right in the path of being mowed down by Florianne. Ever the pragmatist, Florianne is so thoughtful as to shove the Inquisition’s inked rabbit into a mud bath as she runs past. Terribly good for the skin, very thoughtful, what a good Grand Duchess she is.

And as for Cassandra? Well, she gets a little closer, but Florianne in all her roguish wisdom and experience uses the age old tactic of “you can’t catch me,” and is just going to keep this beautifully sculpted hedge (or this… giant green leafy swan) between her and Cassandra. If Cassandra runs left, she runs right, etc etc. She’s that bastard in tag, okay? Okay.

Everyone else… everyone else is possibly getting unhelpfully hindered by inconveniently placed marble status. SO MANY STATUES.

[rowancrowned]

He'll save the cherries for a post-battle snack, ignoring the feel of grapes underfoot even as he feels them squish between his toes to reach the garden, stumbling briefly on the impromptu jam underfoot before he hauls himself to his full height. The cherries bounce against his hair as he looks right, left-- there's Cassandra, and there's Florianne, by the mockery of a swan.

At least it's easier to run on grass, coming up beside her with knife in one hand and ready to spring.

"Your choice, Seeker, right or left--" because she's a lady, and gets first choice. He's happy to address the side she can't-- or, perhaps, the Grand Duchess will attempt to get fancy and leap over the swan.

[stabsbooks]

Cassandra stops as soon as she realizes what Florianne's doing, fuming and glaring at her over the swan. She's just considering hacking away at the leaves and charging right through - damn the lack of her sword, she'll do it with her dagger if she needs to - when Thranduil appears and makes his offer.

"Right," she snaps at him, and darts to the left, trying to catch the Duchess off guard before she can react. "Go!"

[arlathvhen]

There is loud, angry swearing in Elven as Beleth is ungraciously toppled into a mud bath, and a great deal of splashing. Precious time is wasted hauling herself out of the damned tub and trying to wipe some of the mud off--then she spots Cassandra and Thranduil coming up on her, and realizes that it wasn't just some rude noble jerk that had pushed her. No, it was a rude Orlesian jerk that they were supposed to be trying to catch.

--Wait, shit.

Beleth makes a promise to herself to give Florianne a good kick if they ever catch her, and she takes off (feeling slightly ridiculous, still being mostly covered in mud. Fucking Orlesians). However, there's still a good gap between the two, and Beleth, thinking quickly, decides that it couldn't hurt to at least try to narrow the gap with Florianne's own help.

"You may be a criminal, Florianne," She shouts at the woman, "But honestly, I think the real criminal is whoever told you that those smallclothes looked appealing. Yikes."

At the very least, it makes Beleth feel better.

[sistertohermen]

The very nice thing about everyone being shocked and surprised (admittedly, her as well) is that it gives a sneaky surprising dwarf time to actually go. With some shiny things that should fetch a good price on any market stuck in her cleavage, she takes advantage of the chaos to get out the window fully.

It's a near thing not to slip and fall, but she edges back along the way. Good luck trying to follow her out there, guards. But instead of going back the way she came, there's that balcony that helped Florianne down. The vines can hold her, or they'd better, because it's not a pleasant way down from there.

In all of her jingling, jangling glory, she'll try to catch up with the others, because if something happens, they'll know the damn way to go from there.

[madame_de_fer]

Maker take that woman and her wily move to escape. Vivienne hasn't trusted Florianne for decades now, nor should anyone with personal ties to the current Empress of Orlais. They cannot afford to let her get away. The information she holds is far too vital to the Inquisition.

Wasting no time, Vivienne fade steps to the edge of the balcony, watching the grand duchess make her attempted escape. Wasting no time, she throws a wall of ice towards the ground below. With luck it will serve as a barrier to trap her in place. Or if she happens to slip and fall, perhaps skewer her bare backside with some of the sharper points jutting up. To encourage that end, Vivienne sends a line of ice magic, like one would coat a weapon with, to slide along the vines. It will unfortunately kill the plants, but in so doing will make them unsuitable for holding onto. Not to mention the misery of the chill on bare hands.