A Very Official Party

[arlathvhen]

WHO: Division leaders and everyone who signed up
WHAT: The leaders + the viscount are throwing a very fancy party to introduce Inquisition people to Hightown nobles and prove that they aren't demons
WHEN: 29th of Harvestmere (day before Satinalia)
WHERE: Some mansion in hightown
NOTES: OOC post!

The mansion of the hightown noble tasked with hosting the party is tastefully decorated for the event.
There's a few references to the approaching Satinalia here and there, but it is clearly not a costume
party, and none of the nobles are wearing masks. Tomorrow they may done their costumes, but for now,
it's important for the Inquisition for faces to be be seen.

There's plenty of food to be had, either on a table off to a side, or via one of the servants carrying
around trays, filled will little snacks and glasses of wine. Inquisition guests will be forewarned
that while they are not prohibited from drinking--It would, after all, look super sketchy if the
entire Inquisition abstained from drinks--they are under no circumstances to become intoxicated.

The other guests are the nobles, who look like an indecisive mixture of excited, gleeful, and
terrified. There's an air about them as they chatter amongst themselves that they are currently
engaged in something quite thrilling, if dangerous. Talking to the rifters! Possible demons, right
before their eyes! They clump into their own groups for the most part, but as the party starts in
earnest, braver souls will begin to peel off from the others to go inspect the guests and speak to
them. As the party winds on, the groups will slowly begin to disperse and mix with the Inquisition
freely.

Inquisition guests are, naturally, encouraged to approach these groups or individuals directly.

Closer to the end of the night, the division leaders will break off from the rest of the party, and
along with the Viscount, make their way off to a private room to converse on how the affair has gone.

Try to behave while they're gone (and in general) or you might find yourself facing a list of the
worst jobs Petra could concoct the next morning.

Comments

[faithlikeaseed]

"Holding you to that," Myr says lightly. "Can't leave all my admirers lonely for too long." There's a bitterness to the words that he manages to keep largely from his voice, there in one breath and gone the next. They're the Maker's children, too; he agreed to this; he'll survive it and the rest of the world.

It's cold out on the balcony and he shivers accordingly, hunching his shoulders up around his pointed ears a moment like an unhappy songbird. "Brr. Don't know that I'm up to four more months of this," he mumbles, because the weather's safe and gives him something to fix on.

Likewise, worrying about someone else: "How've you been holding up, then?"

[ragweed]

"How've you been holding up, then?"

Kit's already got his cigarette lit and is taking the first drag off of it to get the cherry burning. That question gives him momentary pause, his eyes gone distant beyond the balcony, but then he puts on a smile, chuckles a little, and leans against the railing. "Oh, you know," he says through an exhalation, blowing smoke out past his mouth, "hanging in there. Figure it could be a lot worse, all things considered."

(He could be a child, alone and abandoned in a warehouse, or one of the casteless in the red lyrium mines, the red eating them up inside--)

"I know I've been--" a pause--he's been what, exactly? A ghost? "--hard to track down lately. I'm sorry," he adds, sincerely, and rests his hand on Myr's shoulder in lieu of meeting his eyes.

[faithlikeaseed]

That gets a laugh out of Myr, and not a happy one--likely because his thoughts are along much the same lines. "It could always be worse," he acknowledges, "and thank the Maker it's not."

He's chary of the edge of the balcony himself; it shows in how carefully he sets his hands on the railing, how his shoulder is just a little stiff beneath Kit's hand. "It's forgiven. You've been there when I needed you--and I'm sorry it hasn't been for anything good."

He favors Kit's direction with a wan smile. "Something chasing you you want to talk about?" It's not likely, he knows; his tone makes as much clear. But he's got to ask.