( the roof, the roof, the roof is on fire )

[elegiaque]

WHO: Gwenaëlle Vauquelin, Thranduil, Wren Coupe, & division heads and anyone in their quarters or offices.
WHAT: A quiet night in goes awry.
WHEN: Forward-dated slightly to the 6th.
WHERE: The Gallows, main tower. Also, Halamshiral.
NOTES: Violence, drugging, attempted assassination. Also, the division head quarters are slightly on fire. Toss any queries in here!

CLOSED

In less than a week, the Vauquelin household is shut up for the remainder of the winter; savvy enough not to want to have to instruct an entirely new staff on her particular idiosyncrasies, Gwenaëlle sends most of her servants home with generous stipends to cover the lost work and the expectation of seeing them all again in the spring. Kieran decamps for Sundermount and his mother, and with her small menagerie (birds, hound, horse, Thranduil's fucking pony, the elk) she retreats to the Gallows and quietly takes up residence in a fifth floor room of the Templar tower.

Or, at least, is seen to have done that. Many of her belongings are there, certainly, and her lady's maid occupies the second bed. Were anyone to glance in, they would have every reason to assume that they have merely caught her out - indeed, when Felix Guilfoyle is discreetly dosing the wine that will be taken up to the research division head, it's where he expects her to be for the evening. An oversight, one of several, that he will live to regret—

but he is not as young as he once was.

It's only late into the night, having set the fire and preparing the final touches, that he discovers his mistake in the sight of Gwenaëlle's slight form sleeping peacefully beneath the weight of Thranduil's arm over her waist, their sleep-murmurs echoed dozily by a pair of peculiar birds in a cage in the corner.

OPEN TO PEOPLE IN THE DIVISION HEAD QUARTERS & OFFICES

It's a slow start - increasing warmth, the faint smell of burning and then the stronger smell of smoke -

but there is definitely a fire spreading from the division head quarters.

Comments

[aestivation]

Casimir steps from the stairwell with unhurried serenity. A disinterested glance to Beleth — then along the hall —

"It's coming from research. Try not to breathe."

The smoke, of course. He begins unwinding the sash from his own robes (a daytime breed), to wrap up about his face. It won't do much, and wants for water, but it's something. Papers can wait. More papers will burn if they don't put this out,

His papers, which makes this at least partly his problem.

shows up late with a starhalla latte, what up kids

[wickedchase]

He thinks about possibly remarking that the tower's on fire because they're so hot, but Twisted Fate thinks better of it no matter how horribly tempting it is. Because it's a fire, and there's probably better times to crack jokes about it. Like, after the fire. That's probably a good time to joke about it.

So instead, he's fetching his hat, because otherwise he will absolutely die without it. Three important articles of clothing: pants, boots, and hat. Anything else can be replaced, really.

"Really? Your papers? Is that so terribly important right now?" Fate grouses, taking out a handkerchief to cover his mouth. He wishes he could say being inside a place with fire is a first for him, but it certainly isn't.

Upon hearing Casimir, Twisted Fate unabashedly responds from Beleth's bedroom: "Oh, good. The fire is from research. Hopefully nothing is burning that'll kill us. Besides the fire."

[arlathvhen]

"Ah, I just have to not breath. Of course."

Beleth is not usually one for sarcastic grumbling at strangers, but the man's strangely unworried demeanor--and her own current situation, with Twisted Fate right there, already has her nerves fraying. She gives him a Look as she steps out again, peering into the hallway.

"They're important papers. Leliana would have my hide if I had to explain that I lost them because of a fire." From her drawers, she fishes out one of her scarves, dipping it into her wash basin and then wrapping it around her lower face. "I guess if we stop the fire in research, that'll keep it from reaching Scouting." Is there time to grab more clothing? No, this'll have to do. Nightclothes are hardly surprising for a woman to wear in the middle of the night.

"You really do have the most bizarre luck, you know." She grouses at Fate as she begins to make her way to research. "If I die like this, I'm putting a curse on you."