faderift | [OPEN] That which makes you different...

WHO: Vivienne and OPEN
WHAT: Catchall for November, including Mage Liason availability, prospective clothing choices for the Winter Palace, Knight-Enchanter training, and etiquette lessons
WHEN: Start of the month, leading up to Winter Palace event
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Open to all, if there's something not listed here you'd like to do, lemme know or dive on in.

[Balcony]
So much is happening now and in the weeks to come. As always, Vivienne is installed at her balcony, holding court in a sense. Most days, her attention is given wholly to the business of meeting and working with the mages in the Inquisition in all their varied backgrounds and philosophies. No matter how petty, or grave, their concerns, she listens to them with undivided attention. Uncouth behavior will earn them a displeased stare, but those instances are few.

There is, however, an addition to her balcony in the form of a favored tailor. The Inquisition will be present at the Winter Palace for peace talks, as security and support. But they absolutely cannot show up at the Empress' home in Halamshiral looking like scruffy ragamuffins. The Iron Lady is pleased to offer advice, and the services of the tailor, to assure that a good and respectable impression is offered and maintained. Both in fashion and in manners.

[Courtyard]
Mentoring the young mages is just as important to Madame de Fer as is being available to the adults in their number. In truth, she finds the proper care and education of the apprentices and novices to be just as crucial as putting forth the proper foot when mingling with the nobility. As she has reminded others, there is nothing so dangerous to a young mage as a lack of knowledge. Vivienne has no intention to be thought of as negligent when it comes to the training the children. And privately? She enjoys it.

The First Enchanter stands in the center of a gaggle of youngsters, delivering a lecture on staff creation by apprentices. It's a skill they should all acquire and practice as it will serve them all their lives. The lesson is going less than ideal, however, as random outbursts of giggling break out when some apprentice thinks she's not paying attention. The source of their glee appears to be a copy of Thunderstorms In Your Room! being passed around with only middling sneakiness.

[Chapel]
Typically Vivienne keeps her personal devotions both personal and private. There is, naturally, a small icon of Andraste which she's had added to her balcony, but beyond that, she makes no grand showing of her faith. Some cynics could argue she expresses it in her adamant support of the Circles and their place under the care of the Chantry. (They wouldn't be wrong.)

But today is something of an outlier. In the early hours of the morning, she breezes into the chapel, as if strolling into the summer breakfast room at Bastien's estate. On entering, she crosses her heart and then lowers her head to recite the Chant. Only someone who frequents the sacred space regularly might realize how unusual an event this is. Has she turned more devout or is there something pressing on her heart? And does she even have a heart?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Of course I shall; wild darkspawn couldn't keep me from such a grand fayte," Zapp assured her, his usual bravado bolstered by both her recognition and friendly welcome. So many people in Skyhold were either elves or Ferelden that barely any of them knew who he was or had heard the tales of his grandeur. To meet someone who was...better informed was a boon.

"I was reluctant to go dressed as I am," Zapp explained and waved a hand dismissively over his shoulder. "I mean, this is fine for mountain cabins and keeps, but one needs an outfit with some class if they intend to travel to the Winter Palace!

"So that brings us to the point, my dear lady, might I borrow your man? I'd loan you Kif while I do but he's off playing with a dog somewhere, the loveable scamp. Ah! And speaking of my manservant, I'll need to commission a matching garb for him, if your tailor has the time. Can't have him dressed poorly out there, after all."

Before Vivienne can even answer, the tailor's eyes are already lighting up with visions of gold before his eyes. This of course, being the reason why he was coaxed into trekking up a mountain leaving a wife behind to cuckold him: profits. Gerrard is just as eager to accept the work as it seems Zapp is to have it done.

"I wouldn't dream of speaking for Gerrard..." She doesn't have to, he's already nodding his agreement, "...but I'm quite certain he'd be delighted to attend to both of you. We cannot have our Orlesian heroes arriving at court looking anything but their finest."

She does wrinkle her nose delicately. Playing with a dog in a Ferelden fortress is almost a guarantee to be one of those smelly mabari they're so terribly fond of. "Though you might wish to coax your manservant into the hot springs for a good soak after romping with the dogs." They are decent to have in a fight but their odor is strong and pervasive.

"Naturally," Zap agrees, his own expression going a bit seriou, as though the threat of Kif stinking like a dog were truly grave. "I can't bring myself to stifle the poor elf's enthusiasm for nature and all that, but I would never allow him to do his reputation harm by stinking up the Winter Palace."

Zapp pauses and regards the tailor. The man already seems enthused enough about taking his order, and Vivienne had already granted him leave to use the tailor, but she was still here. It would be positively barbaric if he failed to include her in decisions about their apparel. Insteadof speaking to Gerrard he addresses his next question to Vivienne.

"Say, you dont suppose I should hedge that bet and have a pocket sewn into Kif's jerkin? Something to hold oh cloves or something citrus, you know, something to drown out that dreadful local perfume. I've heard tell that the scent can linger for quite some time?"

The threat of any servant smelling of Ferelden wet dog in the Winter Palace is serious indeed. Vivienne is relieved to see there is someone who understands just what a terrible faux pas this could be and willing to take actions to prevent it. Sometimes she really thinks that the Orlesians are the only ones with any sense of civility to them.

"What a marvelous idea. An interior pocket with cloves." Body heat would warm the cloves and yet keep the lines of the outfit from being marred by an exterior pocket. "It's quite true about the smell. I had to consign my whole wardrobe to the flames just from a short stay in Haven. There simply was no getting the odor out of the fabric just from being in close proximity of mabari owners. I never touched a one of them."

Zap is not, on the best of days, particularly skilled at hiding his reactions to things. He has never seen the value in schooling his expression and, frankly, he isn't about to, not with masks readily available. Unfortunately, he isn't wearing a mask today, and so his look of horror as he glances over her current outfit and back to her face is on full display.

"The whole of it? Maker's breath, this will not stand." Zapp's expression toughens and, were he actually standing in armor and not his casual clothing, he might've looked rather picturesque and heroic. His attention snaps to the tailor immediately.

"You, there! I'll have interior pockets sewn into all my garments, all Kif's garments, and--" He pauses and shifts back to Vivienne. His expression is grave but sympathetic. "Please allow me to replace some of what was lost to the tragic ravages of Haven. I'll see if I can't have some proper perfumes shipped out here, I only hope there's enough time.

"We can't stand for the ruining of perfectly good clothing by simple proximity to Ferelden."

The vigorous nodding from the tailor is not merely joy at the rapidly compounding piles of money he will be making from this single transaction. It's relief that finally finally someone else appreciates how serious the clothing situation is with all these Fereldens and their dogs. Vivienne shares that sense of relief. It's been an uphill battle convincing anyone not Orlesian the importance of putting forth a proper impression. Or to stop wallowing about on the ground with the mabari for fun.

Zapp's offer is gratefully received with a smile. The Iron Lady is not about to turn down any opportunity so generously made. It'd be so dreadfully rude to say no and deprive him of a chance to be magnanimous. Even if Bastien had rather laughed about the bonfire of clothing and offered replacements himself already.

"My dear, what a treasure you are! You will allow me to gift you with a bottle of spiced brandy I've brought back from a little trip to Antiva to thank you, will you not?" She in no way expects to be told no. "It's such a relief to have an ally who understands the importance of quality attire."

[OPEN] That which makes you different...

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I'm laughing my arse off right now

AS AM I

/brb loling forever